The rise of artificial intelligence and the ensuing war brought humanity on Earth together like never before. At the brink of extinction, people finally chose to unite. This isn’t a superhero movie; there are no genetically modified or mutated humans, nor are there benevolent visitors from the M78 nebula coming to the rescue. The only hope lies in the unity of humanity, working together to reclaim the lands occupied by AI and rebuild safe zones suitable for human survival and development.
Now, a century has passed since the initial war, and the establishment of the United Government is nearing its hundredth anniversary. Over the past century, the common languages remain Chinese, English, Spanish, Russian, French, and Arabic. All children are educated in these six languages from birth and are required to master at least four of them. Other languages, such as Italian, German, Korean, and Japanese, are considered regional languages and are offered as optional extracurricular subjects.
Military personnel face even stricter requirements, needing to master all six languages. Ivy, determined to join the exploration team, worked hard to learn German in addition to the six.
Human unification has further promoted the blending of races. Surnames are no longer as significant in this era. As long as parents and individuals agree, one could even choose a surname like “Dream of Salmon” without objection. Only a few people can still trace their ancestry through names, such as the typical Zhao, Qian, Sun, Li, Zhou, Wu, Zheng, and Wang, or “Smith,” “Johnson,” “Williams,” “Müller,” “Martin,” or “Suzuki,” “Sato,” and “Takahashi.”
Most names are a mix of everything. History enthusiasts name themselves “Emperor Gaozong of Tang,” while those with hometown pride might choose “Emperor Wuhan.” Not to mention the ever-popular names like “X Zihan,” “X Yinuo,” and “X Yuxuan.”
Ivy and her partner Hector’s names are as common as they come. In this world, there are hundreds of “Ivy” and “Hector.”
The name “Lorin,” however, is far less common.
Judging by his hair color, eye color, and delicate skin, this handsome yet cold teacher likely has Asian genes, but his bone structure leans more Western—his prominent brow bone gives him deeply expressive eyes, though his demeanor is as cold as titanium alloy.
No wonder Nana whispered to Ivy that he seemed to be using a fake name.
Nana, a year younger than Ivy, is lively, talkative, and always smiling. She majored in paleontology research and conservation in university and joined the exploration team as a clerical worker, a position with less demanding physical requirements.
Their dormitories are close, and on the first night of school, Nana brought her laptop to Ivy’s room to show her something.
“Look,” Nana said, “I searched the news from the past thirty years and found no officer named ‘Lorin’!”
Ivy, focused on drafting her divorce agreement, responded, “Maybe he’s involved in some classified missions?”
Nana pondered, “That’s possible too.”
The glow from the computer screen illuminated Ivy’s face, casting a clear, bright light.
She had rewritten this divorce agreement three times, finding it more agonizing than squeezing out her thesis. Every word she typed felt like the death cry of a brain cell.
Half an hour of effort yielded just two lines.
Her mind was now a blank canvas, devoid of inspiration and language, filled only with the wandering ghosts of dead brain cells.
Still, she had to continue.
This data-matched marriage had revealed significant issues.
When Ivy first considered divorce, she subtly probed her parents’ opinions.
Unsurprisingly, they were also somewhat dissatisfied with her “widow-like marriage” and had their own complaints. They probably wouldn’t oppose her decision to divorce.
As for Hector, who had vanished like mist after the wedding, Ivy figured he must also despise this breeding-like arrangement.
Five minutes passed, and Ivy struggled to type two more words.
Nana, curious, peeked over, “What are you writing?”
Ivy quickly closed her laptop, “Nothing.”
She changed the subject, asking Nana, “Did you find any information about Teacher Lorin?”
“I was just about to tell you! You were right,” Nana said with a smile. “I just hacked into the training school’s backend database and found that Teacher Lorin’s information is indeed classified as top secret!”
Ivy gasped, “...Don’t act so innocent while doing something so terrifying! Do you know hacking into military systems is illegal, Nana?!?! Get out of there! Ahhhh, don’t show me—I don’t want to get expelled!!!”
Two nerve-wracking days passed.
Only after confirming that neither she nor Nana had been arrested or expelled did Ivy finally relax.
If she lost the opportunity she had exchanged for marital freedom over something like this, she would curse Nana to never find a fork in her cup noodles again.
Nana, with her impressive hacking skills, tried for a long time but regretfully told Ivy that she couldn’t uncover Lorin’s background or his exact military rank. The only thing she confirmed was that “Lorin” was his real name.
Unfortunately, Nana couldn’t enroll in Lorin’s classes, as he only taught frontline soldiers—like Ivy.
On the third day of school, Ivy finally attended Lorin’s first class.
The course was well-structured. Lorin taught students how to use new military weapons, including but not limited to guns, cannons, and portable explosives—all things Ivy was interested in.
On the first day, Lorin strictly laid out the rules for training and classes.
First, during training, everyone must address him as “Teacher.”
Second, this temporary “teacher-student relationship” exists only during training. Once it ends, they will have no further connection.
...
Hearing this, Ivy’s ex-boyfriend Song Xu whispered to her, “He probably doesn’t want us asking him for favors in the future.”
As he spoke, his golden hair shimmered, and his sapphire-like eyes gazed at her. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before.”
Ivy and Song Xu had parted on good terms.
Though their romance didn’t work out, they remained friendly. She kindly reminded him, “Stop talking and pay attention.”
Just as she finished speaking, Lorin, holding a black pointer, looked at them and said in a calm but firm voice, “Ivy.”
Ivy jolted, “Here!”
She stood at the back of the classroom, near the door.
They were much closer than during their first meeting, and Ivy didn’t want to look directly at Lorin’s face. His appearance was too aligned with her taste, and she didn’t want to risk being disrespectful by staring at her teacher during class.
“You seem to have something urgent to say,” Lorin asked, “Do you?”
Ivy replied, “No, Teacher.”
Lorin said coldly, “Then wait until I’m done speaking—this is the third rule: no whispering during my lectures, no matter how much you miss your classmates.”
Ivy’s face burned.
Lorin turned away and continued his lecture.
The 100-minute class finally ended.
As soon as class was over, Song Xu complained to Ivy, “The teacher is way too strict. We’re not kids anymore. Does he really need to control us like this?”
Ivy turned around, making a “stop” gesture, her head throbbing, “Don’t forget he’s a soldier. Physical punishment is allowed in the military—did you notice the pointer in his hand? Next time you break the rules, he might just whip you with it.”
Song Xu was startled, “No way?”
Ivy kept a straight face, “Who knows? Just don’t talk to me during class. Don’t drag me down with you.”
Song Xu stopped her, hesitating for a moment. Seeing Ivy’s impatience, he finally blurted out, “Hey, it’s not like I want to either, okay? You’ve had my number blocked for half a year—it’s been so long. Are you still mad?”
Ivy was stunned, “What?”
She took out her phone and checked. Sure enough, “Sweet Little Squirrel” was in her block list.
No wonder she hadn’t heard from him in six months.
Ivy had no memory of blocking him, though he could be quite clingy at times.
Song Xu looked at her with a mix of resentment and longing, “I admit, the breakup was partly my fault. Back then, I shouldn’t have argued with you, but—”
“Ivy.”
A voice as cold and lifeless as titanium interrupted them.
Ivy stood straight, her posture rigid. “Good evening, Professor.”
Lorin, clad in a stark black military uniform, approached steadily, stopping at a reserved distance. The fading twilight cast a glow on his face, his long, dark eyelashes casting emotionless shadows over his deep-set eyes.
Ivy averted her gaze, refusing to look at his face.
She realized that when she met his eyes directly, she could only see the sharp line of his Adam’s apple and the pronounced veins running along his neck.
He was tall, his broad shoulders perfectly accentuated by the epaulettes of his black uniform, his lean waist cinched by a military belt.
Ivy felt a sense of unease around him.
Perhaps it was because he had truly been on the battlefield.
His gloved hands no longer held a pointer. Instead, Lorin was flipping through two thin sheets of paper, which Ivy recognized as her application forms.
“I need to verify the direction of your application,” Lorin said. “You’ve submitted two requests to join the team. The first was for the position of an inspector, and the second was for a front-line reconnaissance and cleanup mission.”
Ivy answered stiffly, “That’s correct.”
Song Xu looked at her in surprise. “No wonder you’ve been attending classes with me… You didn’t choose the front line because of me, did you? Silly girl—”
“Quiet,” Lorin cut him off sharply. “I wasn’t asking you.”
“...The application isn’t a mistake,” Ivy carefully explained to Lorin. “I believe I’m more suited for the front line.”
Song Xu’s gaze softened, almost melting into a pool of tender affection.
“That’s merely your opinion,” Lorin said, flipping through the papers with an air of finality. “Your physical test scores are decent, but you’ve had no prior military training. Contact Xin Lan now and request a change in position.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to change it. There’s still six months of training left,” Ivy insisted, worried about being barred from the front line. “I’ll work hard.”
“Work hard?” Lorin’s tone was icy. “Work hard to die with more dignity in front of an out-of-control robot?”
Ivy: “...”
His words were so cutting!
“I won’t teach you,” Lorin handed the two sheets of paper back to her, looking down at her with no trace of warmth in his expression. “You know I can’t be your instructor.”
