The maneuvering device remained activated. Wen Jifei soon woke, regaining consciousness faster than the vast majority of recruits from the morning session. He had likely flipped again.

“Oh no!” he yelped in terror the instant he opened his eyes. He curled up, face to the ceiling, scrambling backward on all fours, like a damsel in distress being cornered by a bully.

The person squatting in front of him, checking on his condition, was Zhang Dao’an.

Han Qingyu and Mira sat farther off, shelling peanuts and laughing at the scene.

“Scared me to death.” Wen Jifei wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, rubbed the side of his head to check for bumps, and looked up. “Old Zhang.”

Wen Jifei probably didn’t even realize he had called Zhang Dao’an so casually. Han Qingyu and Mira exchanged a silent glance, both a little impressed.

“What...