Ling Yin finished speaking, and seeing the instructors still standing motionless, a mixture of anger and heartbreak washed over her. She sank to the ground and let out a loud, wrenching sob.

Under the influence of such collective emotion, one person crying easily triggered a responsive outbreak. In less than three minutes, every single girl was weeping, each one more wretched and sorrowful than the last—it was like a competition of misery.

The dignified ones wept streams of pearly tears; the reserved ones let out soft, muffled sobs, but the majority had lost all composure, completely forgetting their usual dignified images, seemingly trying to cry out every ounce of suffering they had endured until that point. The most terrifying, however, was Ling Yin, who cried with earth-shattering intensity, blotting out the sun and moon.

The instructors finally reached their breaking point, stuffing bullet casings into their ears to block out the high-decibel wails.

Seeing they remained unmoved, Ling Yin became even angrier, raising her hands and feet to kick at them. The poor instructors could only endure, biting back their reactions again and again.

The girls sitting farther away began picking up stones and pebbles from the ground, hurling them at the instructors, nearly making some of them spit blood.

When Ziye returned, she was met with the sight of a circle of girls engaged in a weeping contest, surrounding Ling Yin as she attacked the instructors for entertainment.

Ziye rushed to Ling Yin’s side. The circle was small, and as soon as she emerged, everyone saw her, eliciting a chorus of surprised gasps.

Ziye had no time for formalities. She shouted, “Ling Yin, are you alright?”

Ling Yin turned her head, suddenly letting out a shriek, “A ghost!”

Ziye couldn't help but feel bewildered.

She stepped forward, placing her hands on Ling Yin’s shoulders, asking with concern, “What’s wrong with you?” Has she lost her mind?

Ling Yin looked at Ziye, then at the corpses on the ground, and shrieked again. Annoyed by the sharp sound that made her own brain ache, Ziye decisively clamped a hand over Ling Yin’s mouth. “Calm down.”

Ling Yin looked at her with tear-filled eyes, then suddenly pried open Ziye’s hand and threw herself onto her, pinching Ziye’s cheeks and pounding her shoulders, confirming she was indeed alive. Her tears and snot flowed freely. “Waaah, Ziye, I thought you were dead. I didn’t expect you to be reborn. I’m so relieved.”

Ziye managed a wry smile, patting her shoulder. Once Ling Yin’s emotions settled slightly, she asked, “Where did I die?” Ling Yin pointed to the pile of bodies stacked to the side.

Ziye looked up at the sky. It seemed quite a few people had truly ‘died.’ She walked over to the pile of corpses. Hers was placed on top, eyes bulging, face ashen, with dried blood clotting at the corners of her mouth—a picture of a death unfulfilled.

Ziye believed she possessed sufficient mental fortitude, yet seeing herself in that state still caused her face to drain of color. Indeed, only when truly experiencing such a ridiculous ordeal could one understand the true flavor of it.

She stared fixedly at the corpse. Little Bean Sprout, hanging from her waist, burst into laughter. “Hahaha, Ziye, you look just like her!”

That sudden interruption from Little Bean Sprout brought Ziye back to herself. She lifted a smiling face, reached out to embrace the corpse, and turned around, positioning the body to stand beside her. She laughed, “Who will help me take a commemorative photo?”

Many hadn't processed what was happening when they saw Ziye’s action. They froze in momentary horror, then realizing the situation, adopted expressions of disgust. “How dare you hug your own corpse?”

The instructors sent grateful glances toward Ziye. Her move had instantly resolved the issue of them being wrongly accused. The Major walked over, smiling. “This is the prize for this military training exercise. Feel free to take it home.”

Ziye shot him a withering look. “Please, Instructor, keep the body properly preserved. Have it sent to the cruiser later, express delivery to my apartment. Thank you.”

With the exception of the students who had ‘died’ midway or suffered mental breakdowns who were sent back to Lingsi early, most students remained. After a day of reorganization, everyone finally regained their composure, and the Major gave a brief, relieved summary.

“This activity was primarily intended to maximize students’ survival capabilities and stress resistance. Due to insufficient instructor numbers, serving as temporary planners was ill-advised. The military sincerely apologizes for this. Fortunately, students, your instinct for survival in adversity is exceptionally strong. Even though the officers’ capacity to handle stress was less than ideal, the exercise was ultimately a resounding success…”

Of course, they also notified Lingsi University that upon the return of the students from Cruiser 0, they would require a full month of psychological counseling to prevent long-term aftereffects.

To lessen the students' resentment, the Major arranged an activity conducted with full transparency. He announced, “For the next activity, students must absolutely forget the prior unpleasantness and move forward bravely to create excellent results for this military training.”

This activity brought them back to the sea, titled, “Exploring the Underwater Battleship.”

The battleship was named the Cavalry, utilized by the Star Federation during its expansion into new sectors three hundred years ago. It was renowned for its formidable strength. It was supposed to engage in a decisive battle, but on its way to the conflict zone, it encountered a spatial-temporal depression.

Spatial-temporal depressions are not uncommon in space; ships can fall into them accidentally, but escaping one is harder than ascending to heaven.

The Cavalry was trapped in the depression for a full 127 days before being blown out by a void storm. By then, all personnel aboard had starved to death. Without anyone controlling it, the Cavalry eventually plunged into the ocean, forever guarding the heart of the sea.

Since diving was required, the instructors explained all necessary precautions before entering the water, clarifying, “This time, there will definitely be no conflict. Each small team’s mission is to search for treasure.”

Searching for treasure meant locating items pre-hidden by the instructors within the battleship. The first group to complete the task would secure first place.

Teams were formed by drawing lots.

Ziye’s group consisted of three girls and five boys. Faced with what seemed like an “effortless” task, the boys thumped their chests, assuring her, “Leave it to us.”

Ziye was eager for this; a battleship from three hundred years ago!

It was absolutely an antique treasure, and she absolutely had to bring back something good!

Donning their diving suits, they descended to the seabed and reached the designated target. Ziye gazed at the battleship lying silently on the ocean floor and suddenly froze. It felt like a castle from an ancient age, its faded, battered exterior sighing in the water.

This was definitely a prime location for exploration!

Ziye’s eyes lit up, and Little Bean Sprout’s shone even brighter. It was practically vibrating like a cat catching a mouse, happily poking Ziye for shared excitement, not forgetting to scan the periphery. “Look, look, a super antique! So rare!”

Three hundred years ago, the technology using centrifugal force fields to simulate gravity for energy conservation was very common; most battleships were annular. The Cavalry was no exception. Archaeological teams had breached a hole in the top of the ring structure, and now everyone entered through that opening at the apex.

The battleship was enormous. Before Ziye could even fully grasp its majesty, Little Bean Sprout guided her to a corner, projecting a light screen to analyze the hull surface. It spoke in an expert tone, “Look, there’s a massive hole here. The outer hull is dented inwards—it definitely suffered an external impact or explosion.”

Ziye looked at the images above and murmured, “An explosion inside the spatial-temporal depression? Unlikely, right?”

Little Bean Sprout probed deeper and stated gravely, “The Cavalry used a space-time ripple engine with decentralized power configuration, which was popular back then and is still valuable for research today. The explosion generated a large amount of high-energy ion beams, which corroded the hull after cooling. So, you see, they didn’t die in the depression; they were destroyed by the explosion.”

Ziye couldn't help but gasp, “You’re more powerful than the military mainframes.”

Little Bean Sprout chuckled smugly, “Of course. You should see who I am.”

Her teammates passed by Ziye, seeing her squatting in the corner doing something unknown, and quickly used their diving suit communicators to call out, “Hurry up, hurry up, we need to fight for first place.”

Ziye smiled, “Didn’t you say you had it covered?”

The boys laughed sheepishly. If they could scratch their heads at that moment, they certainly would have. “We’re fine, of course, but having one more person always helps.”

Ziye nodded and followed him into the ship.

From an archaeological perspective, the Cavalry held little intrinsic value. Everything of worth on the vessel had already been removed by experts; what remained was merely the empty shell of the battleship itself.

Everything inside was clearly marked, with lighting and route indicators.

However, Ziye wasn’t here for archaeology; she was here to study the battleship, so none of that affected her. Upon entering, she immediately broke away from the group, taking Little Bean Sprout to search the Cavalry.

As Little Bean Sprout scanned, the outline of the entire battleship gradually became clear: crew quarters, annular corridors, the central spine, the main control room, the ripple engine matrix… This was Ziye’s first opportunity to examine the interior of a battleship in such detail, and she was immensely excited.

She wanted to examine every single part, almost wishing she could haul the entire battleship back to study at her leisure.

Of course, that was impossible.

So, with every step she took, she impatiently directed Little Bean Sprout to scan. Little Bean Sprout’s optical sensors flashed with programming light, greedily devouring everything that could be scanned and analyzing everything possible instantly.

It wasn’t afraid of water, and its light screen was impervious to moisture.

Even underwater, Tai [referring to the AI/system] could fly freely.

Ziye, meanwhile, acted like a thief, secretly taking out her metal blade and carefully scraping off samples of every metal in inconspicuous spots, preserving them meticulously.

Many students were spread throughout the battleship, moving back and forth, searching for the treasures hidden by the instructors. Most were tapping walls or searching in corners. Seeing Ziye lying on the deck scraping something, they assumed she was searching for something too and couldn't resist teasing, “Are you trying to dig three feet deep?”

Ziye merely smiled without responding.

Little Bean Sprout poked her head with a small tendril. “I found something good!” It then spread its wings and flew ahead through the annular corridor. Being translucent and flying high, hardly anyone noticed its presence. Ziye followed it all the way to the mecha hangar.

The hangar bay was empty.

Little Bean Sprout pointed to a crevice. “There are mechs inside!”