He bent down and took a box out of the desk drawer. “This is a communicator issued by the Investigation Department to all official members. It’s just the basic model, but you can use it for now.”

Blake White took the box and said, “Thank you, Captain.”

She couldn’t help but reveal her true nature and added, “Do the other teams’ Captain care about their members’ lives as much as you do? If they don’t have a Captain as gentle and considerate as you, I’d never apply to transfer out of the field team.”

Eric Shaw: “……”

He cleared his throat and pretended not to hear.

“If you really can’t get over the hurdle of killing, go to the psychological counseling office,” Eric Shaw instructed at last. “Director Director Young at the counseling office is an excellent therapist. He’ll help you work through your troubles.”

……

Logan Hill stood like a fool on the first floor of the Investigation Building, found a spot, and sat down to wait.

The questioning had ended long ago. As a witness, he hadn’t seen much, and there wasn’t much he could say.

The interrogator had hooked him up to some high-tech device like a lie detector, asked him a few questions, and then let him go.

He was waiting for Blake White in the first-floor reception hall.

Ten minutes passed. The numbers above the elevator started counting down, the doors opened, and Blake White walked out.

“You’re still here?” Blake White said in surprise.

“Waiting for you,” Logan Hill replied.

“Then let’s hurry home. The light rail stops running at midnight,” Blake White said.

Logan Hill nodded quickly, thinking to himself that he’d been waiting for her to say that.

The Second World had long since become a cashless society. He was unfamiliar with everything here, didn’t even know how to pay, and couldn’t find his way home. What if he got lost alone? So he thought of Blake White. Blake White also lived on Anning Street, so once she finished her business, they could go back together.

Blake White led Logan Hill to the light rail waiting area like she knew the place inside out.

Logan Hill looked around curiously, and when he saw the floating projection ads, he gasped softly, amazed by the brilliance of the holographic technology.

“What year are you in?” Blake White probed, not missing a beat.

“Freshman. I just got my admission letter this morning—got into the mechanical engineering department.” Logan Hill scratched his head.

“Black Sea Academy’s tuition isn’t cheap. Have you found a way to get a loan?” Blake White probed further. To make her questioning seem less deliberate, she added, “Back when I went to college, I took a lot of detours. Just a heads-up—don’t touch high-interest loans.”

“Okay.” Logan Hill asked, “Is the tuition really… that expensive?”

Blake White recalled what she’d read. “Over two hundred thousand a year, not including living expenses.”

“What?!” Logan Hill was shocked. “Why don’t they just rob people! This is supposed to be a university for cultivating talent! How many outstanding students will be blocked by such high tuition?”

Blake White looked at Logan Hill oddly. He lowered his voice, deflated: “This tuition is outrageous, completely off the charts!”

“There’s nothing to be done. That’s the rule,” Blake White said.

Logan Hill muttered, “Well, I’ve really seen it all now…”

Educational monopoly, huge wealth gap, class stratification—this was the reality of the Second World. The rich could afford college and higher education; ordinary people, if they couldn’t manage it, could only take lower-paying jobs. Over time, the wealth gap widened and classes became more rigid.

Education in the Second World wasn’t about cultivating talent—it was about consolidating the interests of the elite.

“Senior!” Logan Hill moved closer to Blake White. “Is there any way to get a legal loan?”

This kid sure knew how to flatter—already calling her “senior.”

Blake White said, “The bank, but whether they’ll give you a loan is another matter. Sometimes the interest is pretty high.”

Logan Hill said miserably, “I’m really afraid I won’t be able to go to school.”

The Second World was a capitalist society. How could profit-driven capitalists ever do charity?

Even when the light rail arrived, Logan Hill still looked miserable.

This was interesting. Blake White had already confirmed that Logan Hill was a player. Logically, he’d only been in this world for less than a day and shouldn’t feel any attachment, yet he was genuinely worried about tuition.

Blake White herself had triggered the game system’s “Investigate the Port Bombing Case” mission. Could it be that Logan Hill’s mission was “Successfully Enroll in Black Sea Academy”?

If that was the case, then his behavior made sense.

“Let’s get on.” Blake White walked ahead and paid by facial scan.

Logan Hill followed, also trying to pay by facial scan, but the machine prompted: “Insufficient balance, facial scan payment failed.”

Logan Hill: “…?!”

He tried again, but the machine still said: “Insufficient balance, facial scan payment failed.”

Blake White looked at him sympathetically, walked over to the scanner, and scanned for him: “Facial recognition successful, payment complete.”

She patted the dumbfounded Logan Hill and said, “I paid for you. Thanks for coming with me to the Investigation Department.”

Logan Hill almost burst into tears. “Damn, why am I so poor? Can I really hope to go to college?”

“Work hard, and you’ll have a chance.” Blake White gave him a look of shared misery.

This was not just a case of fellow townsfolk meeting, but of two paupers recognizing each other.