C5 Opportunity

"Don't miss out on this chance as you pass by! Folks of all ages, come and see!" A gruff voice, speaking in a less-than-perfect universal language, boomed over an open area on the outskirts of the slums.

A strapping man, radiating strength, was holding a massive megaphone and bellowing advertisements to all those nearby. In today's interconnected world, it was rare to see such old-school tactics—shouting through megaphones—to drum up attention, particularly in the slums where Jun Lindao lived. This was a place seldom visited by the upper crust, a place ordinary citizens typically steered clear of.

"The Academy of Science's secret division is hiring testers! Take a look, everyone! Spots are limited—first come, first served!"

Jun Lindao was roused from his sleep by the commotion. It was the weekend, and he had planned to catch up on some much-needed rest, especially after spending the previous day as a temp in a low-tier factory, where he had exhausted himself debugging hundreds of new smart machines.

Despite being awakened by the burly man's booming voice, he wasn't irritated. Instead, he felt a twinge of curiosity—why was someone recruiting in the slums?

Approaching the window, he peered out to see a crowd gathering around the man, looking on with interest. Among them, a few inquisitive souls with a bit of nerve were making inquiries.

"Hey, big guy, what's the pay for these tester jobs you're talking about?" asked a skinny young man, seemingly more interested in the compensation than the job details.

"The pay? You'll be more than pleased! Ten resource points a day—how's that for a deal?" the big man replied with a chuckle.

Resource points were the common currency, each roughly equivalent to the bare minimum a regular person needed to get by each day, including essentials like nutritious food, clean water, and electricity. A single resource point was enough to sustain a modest lifestyle without hunger.

At the mention of the pay, the crowd pressed in closer, their circle tightening around the man as they buzzed with excitement.

In the slums, most residents relied on the government's relief fund to survive, an amount that fluctuated monthly based on tax revenue. At its lowest, it was a mere 30 resource points, and at its highest, it barely exceeded 50. In essence, it was just enough for the slum dwellers to scrape by.

In our society, the average job pays between 300 to 1,000 resource points per month. Naturally, these positions are reserved for the Awakened—those who haven't experienced awakening are typically ineligible for long-term employment and often resort to odd jobs.

Take Jun Lindao, for example. He's known for his diligence in the slums, yet he barely manages to scrape together just over 200 resource points a month, and that's only if he's lucky enough to find work every day. During lean times, when suitable gigs are scarce, he might earn a mere 100 resource points, barely more than the idle folks in the slums who simply wait for their monthly relief checks.

In the slums, earning 10 resource points a day is considered a handsome wage.

"So, what exactly is the role of a tester?" someone finally broached the crucial question.

The burly man cleared his throat and took a brief pause before responding, "We're looking for testers to participate in drug trials for our researchers. Rest assured, this isn't the kind of science experiment that involves cutting you open with multiple incisions. There's no risk to your life. We're talking about innovative drugs that have already been validated by the top scientists at the Great Academy of Sciences. These drugs pose no harm to humans at low dosages. The trials are simply part of the standard process. Any new drug must undergo trials with at least 100,000 participants before it can be released to the market."

A wave of realization swept through the crowd. Some began to grumble, "So we're just guinea pigs to them. The Awakened wouldn't touch this kind of work, which is why it falls to us—the cheap, un-Awakened labor."

"Hmph, I figured it wasn't going to be anything great. If an Awakened person were to test, they'd earn at least 40 resource points a day. But they're too scared, worried about potential risks to their health. They value their lives too much, even 100 resource points a day wouldn't tempt them. But what do we, the un-Awakened with our shorter lifespans, have to lose? If it means living a bit more comfortably while we're still here, why not?" Another voice chimed in, stirring the crowd. His words resonated, and heads nodded in agreement. The idea seemed to spark interest, with many considering signing up.

Jun Lindao was holed up in his ramshackle dwelling, skeptical of the burly man's proclamation. The claim that he represented a "secret organization under the Academy of Science" immediately raised red flags. A genuine clandestine agency wouldn't recruit openly but would discreetly outsource the task to other companies under different guises. Shouting from the rooftops simply wasn't their style.

Moreover, the man didn't fit the bill of an Academy insider. His language, demeanor, and attire were a far cry from those Jun Lindao had encountered in the past. He wasn't just an outsider to the Academy's inner workings; he seemed entirely disconnected from its periphery.

Then there was the setting: the slums. A place predominantly inhabited by the unawakened, which hardly aligned with the Academy's focus on the awakened majority of the universe. Testing drugs on the unawakened seemed futile when the target demographic was elsewhere.

But Jun Lindao's keen intellect and discerning eye caught even more inconsistencies. His IQ might not dwarf that of the awakened anymore, but his thought process was continuously honed, offering him a unique perspective that soared above the average awakened individual.

Awakening undoubtedly boosts one's IQ, equipping them with greater smarts and learning capabilities. Yet, there's an element that remains elusive to mere intelligence enhancement—wisdom. Wisdom transcends cleverness, not confined to those with high IQs; it's a trait that can manifest in anyone, regardless of their cognitive prowess. It's the embodiment of an individual's thought process, stance, perspective, and even lifestyle.

And Jun Lindao had wisdom in spades.

Over the past two years, he had deliberately honed his cognitive skills, refining his thought patterns. Each day, every decision, every action was an opportunity to engage his brain in the ideal mode of problem-solving—weighing pros and cons, considering fallbacks, and calculating success rates. His approach was to be thorough and rational, eschewing impulsivity for measured deliberation. This way, his decisions would be as sound as possible.

Jun Lindao, with his keen intellect, had detected something extraordinary about the burly man. He suspected the drug trial might be a ruse or conceal a dark secret.

He had been about to close the window and return to sleep, still fatigued from yesterday's labor-intensive work.

"My physical condition really can't compare to that of an Awakened," he sighed in resignation.

As he was securing the door and windows, preparing to dive back into sleep, a phrase caught his ear and jolted him to a halt.

In a flash, he bolted from his ramshackle abode, weaving through the crowd to confront the burly man, demanding, "What did you say? Repeat what you just said!"

The burly man looked bewildered and replied, "I... I didn't say anything special. Just mentioned that the initial drug trial is three days, and if successful, the next phase is ten days."

"Not that part," Jun Lindao pressed, his voice tinged with urgency.

"The part before? Let me think," the burly man said, his thoughts visibly churning. After a brief pause, he continued, "I was talking about the Great Academy of Sciences conducting this drug trial specifically for those who haven't Awakened. In theory, it could increase the chances of awakening by 1% and the chances of mutation by 10%."

"That's it! That's what I needed to hear! I'm signing up—scam or not!" Jun Lindao exclaimed, snatching the register from the burly man and inscribing his name with conviction.

The other unawakened individuals around them seemed indifferent to the burly man's words. Resigned to their fate, they were content with a simple life free from the burdens of awakening—healthy, worry-free, and well-fed until old age. After all, what good was a mere 1% increase in awakening odds?

Little did they know, it was the latter half of the statement—the "10% mutation probability"—that had captured Jun Lindao's full attention.