The prosperity of the Pioneer Team’s endeavors—both direct and indirect—accounted for over half of Sincere Kingdom’s total fiscal revenue.

This nation of a million souls maintained a standing army of thirty thousand. Only ten thousand were tasked with maintaining public order, trained to face human adversaries.

The remaining twenty thousand were professional soldiers wielding Wish Power as their primary weapon, confronting the unknown geographies and creatures encountered during pioneering missions.

Every one of these twenty thousand held the potential to become a pioneer discovering a “New Continent.”

In this nation, there was only one path to becoming a hero recognized by the people: to make exceptional contributions during state-led pioneering operations.

Yet this path inevitably reeked of blood and death…

Individuals. Groups. Those reliant on weapons. Those reliant on abilities. No form of strength could ever face one enemy with full confidence.

That enemy was the “Unknown.”

…………

…………

Calm down. Though reality diverged wildly from my expectations, it wasn’t utterly dire.

It wasn’t hard to deduce: this was a military-led pioneering operation, and I was in the recruitment testing ground.

Pioneering was manual labor too. In this environment, no one would leave you guessing what to do.

At worst, I’d endure some scolding and hardship. Once I became a seasoned hand, advancement opportunities would open up.

And with military escorts, safety was incomparably higher than with spontaneous Pioneer Teams.

Pay… would undoubtedly be far more reliable too!!

At this thought, my anxiety instantly dissolved.

Join the Pioneer Team. Start from后勤 labor, learn while working, and carve out a suitable position for myself.

Career prospects? Becoming a soldier of this nation? I’d cross that bridge later. Compared to adventure, I preferred stability.

If stability was possible, I’d always choose to stay far from danger.

Setting these thoughts aside—for now—I, Seventh Ju, accepted this challenge!

Eagerly grabbing the data sheet I’d just received, I focused on the text—

Seventh Ju: ………………

—My mind went blank.

I’d forgotten one crucial fact—

I damn well couldn’t read this world’s writing!!!

Miss Poppy had hinted at communication issues, suggesting 10 points for language-related abilities would suffice.

Before leaving, I’d wished to the gods for “the ability to communicate verbally with humans in this world”—costing 10 points.

I’d even tested it on a villager before departure; they understood Chinese memes, proving the gods’ power.

But Miss Poppy advised against using Wish Power to learn writing.

Literacy here wasn’t universal. While most citizens recognized basic daily characters, advanced literacy was rare.

If someone noticed my refined writing skills, they’d ask which school I graduated from.

My fabricated backstory would collapse.

Miss Poppy had crafted my identity thus:

“I moved to a newly pioneered village with my parents at age six. We lived there ten years before they died of serious illness. Medical debts piled up.”

“A creditor abducted my beautiful fiancée, forcing me to sign a contract: if I couldn’t repay the debt, he’d do ‘this’ and ‘that’ to her.”

“To clear my debts (and rescue my bride), I left home for the city to make a living.”

—End of story.

Naturally, I’d absolutely, positively never use the second sentence or the parenthetical part.

This background implied no access to formal education or specialized skills.

The setup matched my real-world ignorance, making literacy implausible.

No one decreed interdimensional travelers must hide their origins—but here, ancient legends painted them as either world-wrecking demons or demon-slaying heroes.

These baseless tales captivated people. Especially in Sincere Kingdom, where pioneering culture thrived, the military even actively sought interdimensional travelers.

Miss Poppy had already done “excessive” things for me. If others discovered my true origin, who knew what chaos would follow?

Her advice to stay hidden made sense. I agreed.

To preserve my cover and avoid exposing my otherworldly origin, I hadn’t wished for literacy.

So… how was I supposed to read this paper?

I scanned the tent. Many burly figures filled the space. Judging by appearances, few looked like scholars—likely many were barely literate.

The blond officer had said to “take it easy,” implying the text was simple enough for average readers.

Should I ask someone to teach me? I had no eye for trustworthy faces. Being mocked as an illiterate fool was best avoided.

What then?

Seventh Ju: ………………

I, Seventh Ju—the bookworm exam-taker—flustered by a simple test? A disgrace to my life.

No. Don’t panic. Recall the most shocking exam you’ve faced.

Right. That time I prepared for physics, only to receive a geography paper.

I survived that impossible crisis. Here, the test hadn’t even begun—this was just pre-exam prep.

There had to be a way.

At the tent’s far end, the blond officer sat rigidly, his aide standing nearby. They seemed uninterested in our “studying.”

Most people silently read their sheets alone. Others huddled in groups, whispering.

A thought struck me: in this setting, someone must be muttering aloud while reading.

I just needed to find one such person and memorize what they recited.

My listening skills were sharp—I was a product of China’s exam machine. Simple auditory tests were child’s play.

I spotted a target nearby and crept behind him.

Lean middle-aged man: “Ahhh… these things…”

Lean middle-aged man: “Haven’t changed much from ten years ago. Passing is guaranteed…”

Lean middle-aged man: “Just don’t assign me shit-duty again. Gotta climb higher this time…”

Lean middle-aged man: “After the test, I’ll find a woman to celebrate…”

Lean middle-aged man: “I wanna bury my face in ample cleavage… grab a big, pale ass…”

Seventh Ju: ………………

Ugh… such people existed. What had I just heard?

Half my time was already wasted. I needed a useful mutterer—fast.

A few steps away, another voice grumbled.

Round-bellied man: “‘Absolute obedience’? Pfft. Obvious crap.”

Round-bellied man: “Even as a laborer, I’d be army-employed.”

Round-bellied man: “The military’s golden rule is ‘obey orders.’ Even a dumbass like me knows that.”

Round-bellied man: “Test something useful! Do they think I’m an idiot?”

Round-bellied man: “‘Sexual assault of girls under fourteen is a capital crime’? Tch tch tch—”

Round-bellied man: “What kind of disgusting law is this? Discrimination! You hear me?”

Round-bellied man: “It’s indirect discrimination! It shackles little girls’ charm! A human rights violation!”

Round-bellied man: “Doesn’t Sincere Kingdom appreciate lolis? Hmph. Once I make it big, my first act will be repealing this law!”

Round-bellied man: “Freeing lolis from this army-enforced oppression is my sacred duty!”

Seventh Ju: ………………

I caught snippets, but I’d never finish the whole sheet in fifteen minutes at this rate.

Plus—why did every mutterer obsess over women? With such weird fetishes?

Were all self-talkers like this?

No—! I thought my plan was flawless!

Suddenly, a low, rhythmic muttering reached my ears.

Its measured cadence and precise intonation reminded me of high school morning readings.

This voice was reliable.

I tiptoed through the crowd and spotted its source.

Near the tent’s center sat an abnormally built figure facing away, cross-legged on the ground, head bent over his sheet.

He wore only a grimy tank top and denim shorts—like a construction worker.

His back was thirty percent wider than a human’s, his bone structure subtly alien.

Especially that black hair flowing down his spine… all the way to his lower back…

A tail?

Definitely not human.

A two-to-three-meter radius around him stood empty. Others crowded the tent’s edges rather than approach him.

I glanced at the blond officer across the tent. His gaze seemed idle but lingered on this non-human.

Recalling Miss Poppy’s cultural briefings, I identified him: a Seasonal Wolf.

A coexisting intelligent species. Wolf-tailed. Thirty to forty percent larger than humans. Stronger. Equally intelligent.

Every hundred days, their physique and temperament shifted dramatically with the seasons—hence the name. But at least half the year, they were as stable as humans.

People avoided him, likely fearing his temper. In a fight, no one here matched his size.

I felt no fear. The officers’ relaxed posture reassured me.

It was like facing an unsolvable exam problem you knew wouldn’t appear on the test—why panic?

I stepped out of the crowd and sat behind the Seasonal Wolf, pretending to read my own sheet. Every eye in the tent locked onto me.

Lean middle-aged man: “Ah… a ‘brave soul’ appears!”

Round-bellied man: “Fool rushing to his death…”

Whispers swirled, but I focused solely on the Seasonal Wolf’s voice. He remained undisturbed, absorbed in his reading.

Black-haired Seasonal Wolf: “Obey superior officers unconditionally.”

Black-haired Seasonal Wolf: “Abide by all current Sincere Kingdom laws.”

Black-haired Seasonal Wolf: “Do not leave camp during rest periods.”

Black-haired Seasonal Wolf: “In danger, do not flee. Regroup with military personnel and comrades.”

Black-haired Seasonal Wolf: “Carry personal belongings. Deposit valuables before departure.”

Perfect.

I only needed to hear this once.

Lost in listening, I closed my eyes. This simple test would be a pleasure.

Black-haired Seasonal Wolf: ………………

Unaware, the still-reading Seasonal Wolf had turned his head, fixing me with a razor-sharp stare.