Chapter 1
“Hello, I need to get a certificate of no criminal record. I need the sub-district office to stamp it for me.” Right at the 5:30 PM quitting time, a man in a dress shirt with a platinum badge pinned to his chest rushed through the door and headed straight for Bai Hewei.
Today was Bai Hewei’s shift to be on duty, and according to regulations, he had to stay until midnight. He could have refused to stamp the document for the Evolver in front of him, but it was better to avoid unnecessary trouble. Why make things difficult? Otherwise, if this Evolver called the 12345 hotline to complain about him discriminating against Evolvers, it would be a nightmare.
Yes, an Evolver.
Any Evolver who had registered and been verified by the state received a platinum badge. This badge had to be pinned to the chest to show that they were state-recognized Evolvers. Its most important function was to prevent ordinary, bounty-crazed citizens from reporting them and wasting police resources.
Of course, Evolvers below Rank B weren’t strictly required to wear it, but many still chose to do so voluntarily to avoid trouble.
According to regulations, reporting an illegal, unregistered Evolver came with a hundred thousand yuan reward.
Before the massive wave of Evolver registrations, quite a few people had made a fortune just by reporting them.
“Getting your record so soon? A public institution job, not bad. Congratulations.” Bai Hewei picked up the stamp while filling out the reason in the seal registry. He handed his pen to the Evolver, asking him to sign his name in the “User” column.
“If I can pass the provincial exam this time, I might have to come back again. But my score came out right after the exam, so I’m afraid I didn’t make the cut.” The Evolver signed his name. Spotting the Five-Year Comprehensive Guide to Civil Service Exams on Bai Hewei’s desk, he realized the man in front of him was a fellow suffering exam-taker, and immediately started pouring out his grievances.
“I’ve been taking these tests for three years. I’ve tried every exam, big and small, but it’s just so damn hard.” The Evolver’s eyes reddened. “Five years ago, when Evolvers first appeared, we were in such high demand! With just a nod, you could be fast-tracked into the Special Operations Department. Friends who signed up early back then are now section chiefs with real power, getting promoted right on schedule. I was young and ignorant back then, thinking I was the Chosen One. I was incurably stupid.”
Bai Hewei nodded awkwardly. “It’s fine. It’s not too late to pass the exam now. It’s still better than eating prison food.”
“True. There are still some idiots who refuse to surrender to this day. They’re hiding out in the deep mountains and old forests like deadbeat debtors.” Thinking of those guys, the Evolver’s mood improved a little.
Happiness is all about comparison.
Bai Hewei looked at the form the man had brought in, feeling incredibly envious.
This guy had only been taking the exams for a mere three years. Bai Hewei had been at it for six.
He had toured the country taking twenty different exams, and hadn’t made it to the interview stage a single time.
The only thing remotely close to “landing a government job” was his current temp position at the Heping Sub-district Office.
Yes, even for a temp worker—a labor dispatch job that paid a measly 2,850 yuan a month after deducting his social security and housing fund—he still had to compete to get hired.
These days, finding a job was hard.
Finding a stable job where you wouldn’t get laid off was even harder.
Even before “Evolution Day” arrived, taking the civil service and public institution exams was already one of the best choices for young people globally. Countless youths were forced into a death spiral of endless competition.
Now, the situation had grown even more severe.
After Evolution Day, the financial situations of countless companies had deteriorated. Venues were locked down from time to time, severely disrupting market stability and leaving countless people unemployed. As the final fallback for modern youth, the single-log bridge of the civil service exams became hopelessly crowded with ordinary people desperate for a secure job, as well as Evolvers.
Originally, Bai Hewei had only treated this job as a stepping stone, but who knew that the longer he worked, the more it would become his main career. Every time he took an exam, before the test it was always “If not me, who?” but after the test it was “Time waits for no man.” He had been a temp for three or four years now. His provincial exam scores improved every year, but his rankings kept dropping. How could a single word like “miserable” even begin to cover it?
After seeing off the Evolver, Bai Hewei finally went to slurp down a bowl of rice noodles near his workplace, asking for extra spice.
It was almost midnight. Bai Hewei saw a message from his shift supervisor telling him he could get ready to go home.
Just as Bai Hewei packed up his briefcase, he saw the duty phone, which had been completely silent, suddenly start ringing.
The phone had to be answered within three rings, or else he’d be held accountable. Bai Hewei lunged forward and picked up the call.
“Is this the Heping Sub-district Office?” a voice on the other end asked.
“Yes, how may I help you?” Bai Hewei lowered his voice, adopting a gentle tone.
“I’m by the river right now. A lot of young people have gathered here, saying they want to see this once-in-a-ten-thousand-years meteor shower. It might cause a safety incident. According to the principle of localized management, this falls under your sub-district’s jurisdiction. Please send someone over immediately to maintain order.”
Bai Hewei agreed with a smile, but the moment he hung up, he viciously kicked his desk.
He didn’t know if he had violated some cursed urban legend rule, but whenever he was about to get off work, the duty phone would inevitably receive a complaint. It was terrifyingly supernatural.
And then there was this damn “localized management” principle. It sounded nice—sharing rights and responsibilities, letting local townships and sub-districts manage all affairs within their jurisdiction. But in reality, it was just a thuggish loophole.
Whether it was emergency flood control, fires, earthquakes, noisy renovations, or criminal homicides, the sub-district office was held responsible.
If the grassroots level had to do everything, what was the point of having all those specialized government departments?!
I have to pass the exam and leave. I absolutely have to leave. I can’t do this garbage job anymore.
Yet, by the time Bai Hewei actually rushed to the riverbank and threw on the sub-district volunteer vest, he was still diligently holding a megaphone and evacuating the crowd.
“Everyone, please be mindful of your safety. Do not push, please step back.”
“Please step behind the yellow line.”
…
By 2:00 or 3:00 AM, he had finally managed to keep all these young people in a safe area.
“Little Bai, how are things going with that blind date I set you up with last time?” Before Bai Hewei could even catch his breath, he saw an older colleague from the neighboring sub-district office coming over to chat.
Their Heping Sub-district Office and the neighboring Hexie Sub-district Office were right next to each other, with many overlapping areas of responsibility. Therefore, the people from both units mingled as if they all belonged to the same office.
Although Bai Hewei was a temp worker, he was a local, and most importantly, he was good-looking. That was a huge advantage!
For some unknown reason, the guys who managed to pass the exams and get into the system were either short, dark-skinned, or ugly—or short, dark-skinned, and ugly. The rare ones who were somewhat passable were either married or already taken.
Thus, someone like Bai Hewei, who was tall, fair, and handsome, naturally became highly sought after.
It made Bai Hewei wonder if his good looks were the very reason he could never pass the exam. But he couldn’t exactly disfigure himself just to get a government job.
“She’s great, but I’m not good enough for her,” Bai Hewei sighed. “She’s about to be promoted to deputy section chief, and I’m still a temp. How am I a match for her?”
“The girl doesn’t mind!”
“I still want to pass the exam first.” Bai Hewei shook his head. “Please don’t introduce me to any more blind dates. I really have no interest right now.”
“Haha, you might not want to go on blind dates, but every time you go to the city office to drop off materials, a bunch of girls start asking about you,” the older colleague said with a beaming smile. “So many people are dying of envy and jealousy. Just look at so-and-so from last time—his eyes were glued to the ceiling, dead set on chasing the leader’s daughter, but even she ended up running after you instead. You’re already 26, you can’t afford to be too picky.”
Looking at Bai Hewei’s face, the older colleague sighed with emotion.
So what if he’s a temp? Girls these days didn’t care about that at all. Being good-looking and a local meant that lacking an official government position wasn’t Bai Hewei’s flaw; rather, it was a selling point.
“I still have a few girls who want to meet you, wait—” Before the older colleague could finish his sentence, they saw a group of people wearing special uniforms and custom masks file in, directly pulling up a long cordon line along the riverbank.
Immediately after, Bai Hewei noticed that his sub-district’s Party Secretary, the District Mayor, and the Deputy Mayor had all rushed over at the first opportunity.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry! Evacuate the crowd! Pull up the cordon line immediately! Not a single civilian can remain here.”
“Go manage the journalists and those independent media folks filming over there. Don’t let them film indiscriminately.”
…
Leaders that were usually only seen during major district assemblies had all shown up in the middle of the night.
Bai Hewei, as a lowly temp, was naturally shoved to the side.
The only thing capable of commanding such a grand display couldn’t possibly be a meteor shower. It was because of that group of people in the special uniforms.
The Special Operations Department.
It was a newly established national department with immense authority. Once they mobilized, all other relevant departments had to cooperate.
Not only that, but this department recruited through the national exam, the provincial exam, public institutions, and even contract roles. The salary was roughly three times that of other civil servants at the same level, not even counting performance bonuses. It had its own unique promotion system and didn’t compete with other departments for the same positions.
Furthermore, it offered perks like triple funeral benefits, bonus points for children’s college entrance exams, housing allocation, and more.
Thus, even though the jobs were notoriously grueling, exhausting, and prone to accidents, the number of applicants remained sky-high every year.
Bai Hewei had applied 8 times himself.
Either he passed the written exam but failed the physical, or he failed both. He never made it to an interview. Now that he was over 25, he was no longer eligible to apply.
Whenever the Special Operations Department appeared, it meant that something like an ability riot, a cult gathering, or even a forbidden zone anomaly had occurred locally.
Bai Hewei had encountered a similar incident once before and had also undergone regular emergency training. So, at this moment, he expertly went about evacuating the crowd, obediently sticking to his duties.
The area cordoned off by the Special Operations Department’s yellow line had already turned pitch black from the outside.
Supposedly, it used some kind of quantum technology. Bai Hewei didn’t really understand it anyway; it wasn’t on the civil service aptitude test, so he hadn’t bothered to learn about it.
“Brother Bai, long time no see.”
Once Bai Hewei finally managed to evacuate the young men and women who had come to watch the meteor shower, he heard a familiar voice ring out behind him.
He turned around to see a radiant, beaming face.
“Brother Bai, it’s me, Lu Chengshuai.” A young man wearing the same uniform, but without a mask, looked at Bai Hewei with a smile, still carrying a hint of childishness on his face.
“Ah, it’s you, Little Lu.” Bai Hewei thought for a moment and immediately remembered. This was an intern who had come to their sub-district office during his senior year of college. Back then, it was Bai Hewei who led him around and showed him the ropes.
Handy interns were hard to come by, and Lu Chengshuai was one of them, which was why Bai Hewei remembered him.
“I didn’t expect you to get into the Special Operations Department,” Bai Hewei said sincerely. “Congratulations. Now that you have a government position, you’re set.”
“It’s all thanks to the free civil service prep courses you shared with me, Brother Bai,” Lu Chengshuai rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I just got lucky, too. They were only hiring one person, and I ranked seventh. I thought I had no chance at all. But unexpectedly, the top five all failed the physical test, and the guy in sixth place passed the national exam instead, hahaha! So I just slipped right in and filled the vacancy.”
Hearing this, Bai Hewei felt like he had just been heavily punched in the chest, so stifled he couldn’t speak.
When he saw other people pass the exam, he was envious, but not jealous.
But hearing that someone had secured a spot by picking up a vacancy? That made his eyes go red with true, unadulterated jealousy.
He had placed third or fourth for positions hiring only one person so many times, so why had no one ahead of him ever dropped out?
“Little Lu! We thought it looked like you earlier. You got into the Special Operations Department! Amazing, amazing, come on, let’s take a group photo!”
“Hahaha, Little Lu, do you have a girlfriend?”
…
Watching the other sub-district leaders walk up one by one to chat with Lu Chengshuai, Bai Hewei was so envious he was about to cry.
Sure enough, being a temp just didn’t cut it. He had to pass the exam. He had to get a permanent government position.
Sigh, why aren’t the results for this provincial exam out yet?
Bai Hewei was standing there zoning out when he noticed that cracks were beginning to appear in the black area across the river. Crack, crack. It seemed like it was about to shatter.
Oh, it looks like it’s almost over.
He didn’t have to wait long. Bai Hewei saw a few people in uniform walking out, leading over a dozen individuals handcuffed together. There were men and women, young and old—a complete mix.
“They’re from the ‘True God of Doomsday’ cult,” Lu Chengshuai finally slipped away from the greetings and whispered quietly to Bai Hewei. “It’s an obscure little sect, seems to be funded by foreign forces. These guys are all just Rank E Evolvers. That’s why the team we deployed this time is mostly made up of rookies who joined a year or two before me. The people from the Research Institute didn’t even show up.”
Hearing this, Bai Hewei couldn’t help but be startled. He frowned, “Aren’t you violating confidentiality rules? I didn’t hear anything just now.”
“It doesn’t count. Reporters will be coming over for interviews in a bit anyway. This cult doesn’t even know how to pick a name. Adding ‘Doomsday’ to a church’s name might work abroad, but people don’t buy that stuff domestically. They’re going to be reported on as a typical case study. By tomorrow, it should be plastered all over the major official media accounts.”
Lu Chengshuai shook his head. “These Evolvers are just small fries, they can’t amount to anything. If you really calculate the crimes of the minor cult members we’ve caught in the past, forming an illegal organization is usually their lightest offense. The really serious ones are things like human trafficking, criminal offenses, economic crimes, and espionage.”
Bai Hewei wholeheartedly agreed.
Grassroots workers like him were required to follow those official media public accounts. Whenever he saw the Evolvers or small factions that got busted, they were always boundlessly stupid.
There were those who proclaimed they were going to be the Emperor and brazenly started selecting concubines; those who claimed to be the savior and demanded everyone tribute a bag of rice to them; and those who barged into banks, forcefully demanding to stop paying their mortgages…
Did they really think becoming an Evolver meant they no longer had to obey the law? Evolvers had friends and family too; they had mortgages and car loans too. Plus, now that reporting an illegal Evolver rewarded a hundred thousand yuan, everyone was keeping a very close eye out.
“They’ve just got something wrong with their brains.” Bai Hewei clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Of all the things they could be doing, they do this? It’s so easy for Evolvers to find jobs! They get bonus points applying for your Special Operations Department, and there are extra subsidies for joining the Research Institute. Those are public institution positions, too!”
“…Those Evolver positions with bonus points produce exam gods year-round, especially the ones for the Research Institute.” Lu Chengshuai wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Brother Bai, you have no idea. There’s this one freak whose Aptitude Test score has never dropped below a 90, and he actually scored a 90 on the Policy Essay too. He should be the one writing the next Five-Year National Plan…”
“There’s actually an exam god like that? Quick, send me his contact.” Bai Hewei was shocked. This was a living, breathing god of the civil service exams! He needed to worship him immediately and rub off some of that high-score luck.
“I don’t have it eith—”
“Little Lu, we’re leaving.”
Lu Chengshuai quickly responded, waved hastily at Bai Hewei, and jogged off.
Once the Special Operations Department pulled out, the remaining cleanup naturally fell to the sub-district’s grassroots personnel, who also had to ensure the evacuated crowd didn’t return.
“Little Bai, you’re the one on duty today. Wait until this place is cleaned up before you get off work. It’s already 4:00 AM, so get some rest. You don’t need to come in this morning.” The supervising leader checked his phone, dark circles prominent under his own eyes. “Fortunately, there are no inspections lately, so hurry up and rest. Give me the duty phone. I have a meeting to attend in the morning anyway, so I’ll handle the handover for you along the way.”
“Okay, thank you, Director.” Bai Hewei sighed in relief and quickly handed the duty phone to his superior. If he had to work a normal shift after staying up this late, his only option would be to head back to the office and take a quick nap.
Though the job was grueling, exhausting, and low-paying, at least the unit leaders didn’t put on airs. The work environment was decent, which was the only reason Bai Hewei could force himself to keep pushing through.
The people who had hurried over now hurried away.
However, everyone could only complain verbally; in reality, they were all thoroughly accustomed to this kind of thing. There was nothing they could do about it. The Special Operations Department’s work was just like that, often taking place in the dead of night. If you ran into it, you could only chalk it up to bad luck.
Bai Hewei cleaned up some trash along the riverbank and checked to ensure the “No Swimming” and “No Fishing” warning signs were still in their original spots. That was about it, though he was in a somewhat foul mood.
He hadn’t been this anxious originally, but seeing the intern who used to work under him successfully pass the exam and get a permanent position while he was still stuck as a temp left a bitter taste in his mouth.
The heavens are so unfair.
Bai Hewei took a deep breath. Catching a glimpse of a reflection in the river out of the corner of his eye, he immediately looked up.
In the sky, a massive meteor shower was streaking rapidly downward.
It was crystal clear, even to the naked eye.
A once-in-a-ten-thousand-years meteor shower!
It was truly beautiful. Bai Hewei gazed at the sky, mesmerized for a moment.
Failing his exam really didn’t matter. Compared to the vast cosmic galaxy, he was nothing but…
Before he could fully express his feelings of insignificance, Bai Hewei suddenly remembered an age-old legend: making a wish on a shooting star is very effective.
This was a once-in-a-ten-thousand-years meteor shower. It would definitely be even more effective.
“Please, let me pass the civil service exam. I really don’t want to keep taking these tests anymore. I’m going to grow old just taking exams,” Bai Hewei clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and muttered to the streaking meteors. “If that’s truly impossible, then just let the world end. I really can’t take this anymore.”
Right after, to ensure his wish was heard by the meteors and wouldn’t be attributed to the wrong person, Bai Hewei rattled off his ID number and home address to the shooting stars. He finally felt much more at ease.
Maybe, when he woke up, the provincial exam results would be out, and he’d have first place by a landslide! As long as he didn’t literally beat up the interviewers, he’d secure his job. He could even save money on interview prep classes!
Feeling that he had done all he could and left the rest to fate, Bai Hewei snapped a few time-stamped work photos by the river, sent them to the WeChat group, and finally went home.
By the time he got home, his grandmother and parents were already asleep.
Bai Hewei cautiously returned to his room, not daring to disturb them. Instead, he turned on his computer and logged onto the personnel examination website to check his score. The exam prep agencies had said again that the provincial written exam results might be released tonight.
Of course, the agencies had been saying the results were coming out “tonight” for a week now.
Sometimes, Bai Hewei really wanted to report them. Couldn’t the Market Supervision Bureau fine them for false advertising? How was this any different from peddling anxiety?
Because of this fake news, he hadn’t slept well for several days in a row. It was agony.
Bai Hewei focused his eyes on the screen. It still said “Unable to query.”
Left with no choice, he sought out a few AI cyber fortune-tellers for psychological comfort.
On the other hand, the civil service exam prep groups he had joined were flooded with a terrifying number of messages.
999+ was WeChat’s display limit, not the limit of the group members’ chatting capabilities.
Because the exams grew more competitive every year, everyone’s mental state was incredibly ‘moving’.
“I passed! I passed! I finally landed a job! [Fan Jin Passes the Exam meme]“
“Another one’s gone crazy, carry him away. The results aren’t even out yet.”
“I heard another batch of illegal Evolvers was caught by the river? I’m begging on my knees that all my competitors are as stupid as these Evolvers. Taking the civil service exam is good, taking the civil service exam is great, taking the civil service exam is top-tier.”
“…An Evolver has gone crazy too, carry him away, carry him away.”
“If you guys fail the exam, the worst-case scenario is that you don’t have a job. But if small-time Evolvers like us fail, we might get arrested! Everyone is studying like their lives depend on it. The first-place provincial exam scorers from both last year and the year before were Evolvers, sobbing.”
“True, reporting an illegal Evolver rewards you with a hundred thousand. That pays for the written and interview prep classes right there.”
“I’m super curious, can an Evolver still take the civil service exam after being arrested?”
“It’s fine, as long as you don’t get caught. And if you do get caught, isn’t that just another kind of iron rice bowl?”
“I heard the scores are coming out. Ahhhhh, I’m completely doomed! Please, can the world just end? Why do exams even have to have scores?”
“I told my wife that the moment I pass the exam, the first thing I’ll do is slay her, my beloved. She was very touched, saying there’s no vow more enduring than that.”
…
Bai Hewei read through the messages, feeling a mix of exasperation and amusement, along with deep empathy.
The pain of failing to pass the exam was truly pure torture.
“Ahhhhh,” Bai Hewei banged his head against the desk with a heavy thud, thud. “Better a quick pain than a long one! Just put me out of my misery already! Why aren’t the results out yet?”
Perhaps he was just getting older and couldn’t pull all-nighters anymore. Bai Hewei felt his body grow heavy. Before he even had time to play on his phone a little longer, he fell into a deep sleep.
…
At Evolutionary Research Institutes and Evolution Testing Departments all over the world.
At the exact same moment, the machines responsible for monitoring data suddenly lost control, their readings skyrocketing wildly.
Top researchers who had been processing evolutionary data stopped what they were doing, staring in a daze at the out-of-control numbers before them.
An Evolver who had just plunged a knife into an enemy’s chest paused his movements. The evolutionary factors in his body briefly lost control before quickly returning to a state of calm.
Groups of Evolvers at banquets lost control, shattering countless wine glasses.
Even comatose Evolvers lying in hospitals suddenly snapped their eyes open at this moment.
Even the stars and the moon in the sky seemed to suddenly lose all their luster for a split second, before regaining their brilliance in the very next moment.
Everyone, without exception, looked toward a certain direction.
They were terrified, suspicious, or utterly bewildered. Tonight, none of them were destined to sleep.
From out of the unseen void, a voice seemed to echo in their minds.
The strongest Evolver in this world had been born tonight.
