This was a standard school-style building, with a rigorously symmetrical gate, an academic-looking architecture, badges that bore historical and classical sedimentation and excavation elements, as well as school members who wore exploration, curiosity, and a thirst for knowledge on their faces.
Rod presented his introduction letter, and the doorman immediately invited him in.
Upon entering, he faced a salon-style hall where each round table was filled with books, blueprints, and various oddly shaped tools. People dressed in the school’s standard long robes sat in pairs or groups at the tables, conversing either gently or intensely.
They were genteel, polite, sometimes wildly unrestrained and sharply sarcastic, using pretentiously artistic vocabulary that made Rod, still a simpleton, unable to understand many words.
The doorman shouted, "Professor Bins, Professor Bins, the academy’s collaborator has arrived—you can set off now."
An elderly man with white hair and a plethora of wrinkles but spirited and dressed in practical work attire stood up—he was clearly more than just a scholarly lecturer.
"Nightwing, Molly, let’s go."
A tall young man and a redhead woman stood up and followed the old man over.
"You are the academy’s collaborator?" the elderly man sized up Rod.
With both hands, Rod handed over Dean Theodore’s introduction letter, "Yes, Professor Bins."
After reading it, the old man nodded.
"Wait a second," the tall young man shouted loudly, "What combat level are you? What is your spiritual power level?"
"Uh, I am a combatant reservist, with a spiritual power level of 2."
Upon hearing this, the tall young man’s face darkened as he loudly asked, "You’re not just here to gold-plate, are you?"
The redhead woman gently tugged at him, "Nightwing, stop it."
"Why shouldn’t I say it?" the tall young man fiercely rolled up his sleeve, "Why should we be treated like a dump? Does preparing for an operation not consume energy or resources? Why bring a useless burden to increase our load?"
Rod coughed, "Well, I am a special student."
This was a foolproof explanation, as Jinworth’s special students held a kind of magic in many people’s minds, surpassing even combat levels and spiritual power levels.
Although Rod did not understand its origin since he had not interacted with other special students, it did not prevent him from utilizing this fact.
Sure enough, the tall young man’s expression softened slightly, though he was still unsatisfied.
"You are too young; uncovering history requires depth. What can you contribute? Just try not to hold me back."
Do intelligence, heating, and vibration count?
Rod silently scoffed to himself and explained normally, "My spiritual vision is high, and my pistol skills are strong—both fast and accurate, never missing a shot."
The tall young man nodded slightly, with a hint of satisfaction appearing in his demeanor:
"What’s your tactical style? What positions do you prefer? Since it’s just the two of us as combatants, your abilities had better be versatile."
Rod carefully recalled various tactical positions, cautiously selecting a few from the back.
"Rear scouting, rear support, rear firepower support."
"My style is stable, careful, cautious, and never reckless."
Nightwing’s pleasure +1
Uh, it seems you really type of teammate.
Nightwing nodded in satisfaction.
"This is exactly what a good Ash Excavation Squad needs. Perform well this time, and there might be more opportunities for collaboration in the future."
Professor Bins said briefly, stepping out the door first.
Nightwing shouted, "The seventh Vakino operation begins!" following him out.
The redhead girl approached Rod and whispered apologetically, "I’m sorry, I’m sorry. The professor is always reticent, and Nightwing is quite intense, but they mean no harm. Please don’t take it to heart."
After she said this, she bowed deeply to Rod, her collar falling down, her snowy throat and delicate collarbone particularly striking.
Well...given your sincere gesture, I’ll forgive you.
If you weren’t wearing that inner garment either, it would be even more sincere. Rumor has it that the activity level of spiritual energy is higher when excited, so the speed of shooting would be faster.
Well, that must be nonsense... Rod ended this unreliable conjecture, silently thinking that if their efficiency was too low, he would just stay alone in the sewers after the mission was over.
After all, he had a whistle given by the Dean, if he couldn’t fight, couldn’t he just run away?
If only I could craft such powerful items, there are too few items on the stone platform right now...I need to find more recipes.
Rod’s thoughts were chaotically tangled as he continuously loaded and unloaded bullets from the Spirit Gun.
This was practice; under normal circumstances, he would only use True Silver Bullets, but if the monster was strong, he would immediately switch to Sealing Spirit Bullets.
Otherwise, with his ultra-fast pistol speed, twenty Sealing Spirit Bullets would be gone in an instant.
He was not yet at the point where bullets were plentiful, not even True Silver Bullets.
Why am I always so broke, no matter where I am? Can’t they just give me the status of a prince or princess?
In the midst of such fanciful thinking, the Ash Excavation Squad set off on their journey.
Along the way, the tall young man Nightwing kept talking loudly, Professor Bins remained silent, and the redhead girl Molly occasionally chimed in.
The Spirit Car moved further into the Inner City District. Today, there were fewer people on the road, but there were still many Spirit Cars about, not just four-wheeled carriages, but also large iron vehicles and fancy small cars. Rod even noticed a group of people in a corner setting up something resembling a tram.