Chapter 42: The Return of the Prodigy

On the outskirts of City 37.

The orphanage covered a large area but the buildings looked a bit worn.

Still, that didn’t stop the children’s laughter from spilling out from within.

Clearly…

Life here was pretty good for the kids in this orphanage.

“I wonder how Little Yu is doing these days?”

Outside the orphanage’s front gate, a woman in her forties stood with a worried look on her face.

At first, she’d been truly happy when Lin Yu joined the Federation Fleet.

After all, that’s a path most people dream of, and with peace these days, there was little danger of war.

But now…

The Federation hadn’t told the public about the Fourth Fleet or the truth that war had already started. All they said was there’d been potential alien sightings at the edge of the Solar System.

Many people didn’t take it seriously, but Director Wang Jing knew better.

After all…

Her husband used to be an officer in the Federation Fleet and had made major by the time he was thirty—a bright future ahead.

But an accident cut his life short.

After that, she used all her savings, his pension and a few of her husband’s connections…

Handled all the paperwork and got a plot of land from the government to open this orphanage.

Come to think of it, Lin Yu was the very first orphan she took in after opening the place, and…

He’d been left at the orphanage gate by someone, though no one knew who.

In other words, Lin Yu was the first to grow up here, and every other child was just like his younger sibling.

He was also the only one who’d joined the Fleet.

So naturally Wang Jing worried about him the most.

“Don’t worry, Sister Wang!”

“Even if Lin Yu didn’t get into the First Fleet he still made it into the Fifth. That fleet’s just formed and not even at full strength yet. Even if there’s trouble out by the Kuiper Belt, it won’t involve Lin Yu at all.”

A caretaker beside her tried to reassure her.

Just then, a military hover car appeared at the end of the road, heading toward the orphanage.

Moments later it pulled up right in front of them.

The car door opened and a tall, straight-backed figure stepped out, walked to Wang Jing and snapped off a salute.

“Reporting in, Sister Wang—Lin Yu back on duty!”

Two stripes and two stars. In the Federation, they call that ‘two hair two’—a lieutenant colonel’s insignia.

Wang Jing was a military wife, and Lin Yu had come home in uniform.

She would never mistake the insignia on his shoulders.

She knew better than anyone how tough it was to reach this level.

She couldn’t help but stare at Lin Yu, who at eighteen was still a child to her.

Her mind drifted back to her husband’s ten years with the Federation Fleet—always outstanding, always bringing home new medals: three third-class, one second-class.

And even so, it took until he was twenty-eight for him to make major.

But Lin Yu?

He was only eighteen, and already a lieutenant colonel.

She’d never even heard of anything like this, much less seen it.

Just how much had Lin Yu accomplished? How much danger had he been through to get here at just eighteen?

Wang Jing had no idea what Lin Yu had gone through these past few months.

But there was one thing she did know…

In the military, if you want to climb ranks fast, you need real achievements in battle—the bigger the merit, the greater the risk.

“Child, with your talent you’ll be a general one day—no need to rush it. Just don’t go doing anything dangerous again!”

Wang Jing pulled the young man into a hug, her voice thick with emotion.

“Uh, Sister Wang, you’ve got it wrong. I didn’t do anything dangerous…”

“Don’t give me that. How’s an eighteen-year-old get straight to lieutenant colonel if it wasn’t dangerous? Don’t forget, I’m a military wife—I know how this works!”

“No really, you’re misunderstanding. My promotion to lieutenant colonel isn’t about any big heroics or achievements. In fact… I haven’t even earned a single medal!”

Lin Yu explained.

Wang Jing, after releasing him, locked eyes with him.

She tried to see if he was lying but soon realized…

She wasn’t actually any good at that—she couldn’t tell a thing.

“Then explain—what’s really going on?”

“Well… The academy’s assessment was wrong at first. Later, when I retook the tests with the Fifth Fleet, the results shot up… and the Fleet’s admiral wanted to promote me. So here I am!”

There were things Lin Yu would never hide from Wang Jing. But this was the Federation’s highest-level secret—he just couldn’t tell her. Even so…

He’d basically already given her all the hints she needed.

As long as you understood the context, you’d figure it out.

Was he promoted for an outrageously high innate brain development score?

Just how high did it have to be for this treatment?

Nowadays, the average person’s brain development is around ten to nineteen percent.

A few centuries ago, that could’ve made you a once-in-a-hundred-years genius, but now…

Sorry, you’re just average.

True geniuses are those with innate brain development over twenty percent.

So far, among humans, the highest public record to two decimal places is twenty-four point ninety-seven percent.

At least, that’s what’s publicly revealed.

Beyond that is the first human to ever break twenty-five percent—Mu Qingxue.

But ordinary people don’t know any of this.

Wang Jing’s late husband was barely past the genius threshold—just about twenty percent, one of the lowest among geniuses.

Still, it meant he counted as one of them.

Through him, Wang Jing had met several other human geniuses. One even came close to twenty-four percent.

Even so, that person had to climb the ranks the usual way, and only matched Lin Yu’s rank at twenty-six.

So just how high could Lin Yu’s score be, for him to go from cadet to captain straight out of graduation—then immediately jump again to lieutenant colonel?

The answer…

Had to be truly staggering.

“Little Yu, don’t tell me… you’re over twenty-five percent?”

“Well, the Federation put my profile under 3S top secret status, so…”

“Say no more. I get it!”

Wang Jing nodded again and again as Lin Yu spoke.

She was certain now—Lin Yu’s innate brain development had to be above twenty-five percent.

Otherwise, even his personal records wouldn’t be classified at the Federation’s highest security level.

At the same time, she felt relief.

The more vital Lin Yu was, the more the Federation would keep him safe and far from the front lines.

But as it turned out, her guess was off this time.

Still…

Lin Yu would never tell her the truth.