1: My life goal was to lie down and relax, but I ended up with a death warrant.

Excellence, a name that lived up to its meaning—it was the weightiest and most wishful expectation his parents had for his life. This name was like a glittering Golden Hoop tightened around his head since birth, hoping he would blaze a trail of sparks and lightning, break through the horizon, rush toward the sea of stars, and eventually stand shining at the pinnacle of the pyramid of human achievement, bringing glory to his ancestors.

However, the gap between reality and the ideal was often more tragic than the difference between a "buyer's show" and a "seller's show."

At this moment, Excellence was like a puddle of liquid slime with its bones removed, its soul gone, and all its dreams lost. He was sunk into a creaking wooden dorm chair that might be older than he was, which sounded like it would fall apart at any moment, in a posture that maximized his adherence to gravity. On the computer screen, bizarre game graphics flashed frantically, reflecting his hollow, lifeless eyes that were almost crossing. In his headphones, the angry roars of his teammates and a high volume of "mom-related" insults intertwined into a chaotic heavy metal symphony, but he seemed deaf to it all, merely moving his mouse mechanically.

By his hand was a half-finished bottle of Fat Happy Water. The carbonation had long since escaped, leaving only a cloyingly sweet syrup flavor to accompany a few potato chip crumbs that had fallen into the keyboard gaps in some unknown era.

There were exactly seventy-two hours left before the makeup exam that would determine the life or death of his fundamentals of analog circuits. As for the textbook at the corner of the desk—so new one could still smell the fresh scent of ink (mostly because it had sat there so long it gathered dust, which mixed with the moisture to produce a strange ink-like smell)—Excellence could swear on his conscience (if he had any left) that since the day it was invited back from that dark corner of the school bookstore, its inner pages had never been contaminated by any fierce beast known as "knowledge," save for being unfortunately touched by the dust of time. It was as pure as the snow on an Alpine peak.

"If I fail, I fail," Excellence let out a long, lazy yawn, squeezing out a few tears from the corner of his eyes—a purely physiological reaction with no hint of sadness. He muttered to himself, his voice so soft it was as if he were talking to his own butt, "If the sky falls, the tall ones will hold it up; if I fail the makeup exam, my dad will catch me. At worst, I'll pack my bags and go home to inherit my dad's hardware processing factory, the one known as the 'Technical Benchmark of the Ten-Mile Radius.' I'll listen to the roar of machine tools and smell the mellow industrial fragrance of metal cutting fluid every day. At least I won't starve."

He, Excellence, a contemporary senior master of lying flat, had a life philosophy that was just that simple, unadorned, and boring: As long as I lie flat enough and in a peaceful enough posture, the tornado of involution won't even touch a single hair on my head! Excellence? That name was just a massive flag. Whoever wanted to be excellent could go right ahead; he just wanted to be a quiet, world-shunning salted fish. Occasionally, when life fried him until he couldn't take it anymore, he would slowly flip over to let the sun hit the other side, striving to be evenly salted and thoroughly dried.

Just as the game character he controlled, named "Sovereign Blade of Stars," suffered another magnificent death under the crotch of a dungeon boss because its operator's consciousness had left his body... or rather, just as the entire screen plunged into a desperate gray and the teammates' curses reached an unprecedented peak in decibels—

[Ding! Strong 'Civilization Stagnation' energy field and extremely high 'Undeveloped Potential' fluctuations detected! Binding conditions met! Initiating forced installation program!]

An emotionless electronic voice, cold as an old radio dug out from deep within the Siberian permafrost yet somehow carrying a hint of "I'm here on official business, don't try to get close to me" disdain, exploded directly in his mind without warning, like high-voltage electricity!

[The Civilization Advancement (Youth/Mini/Castrated/Basically the Budget-Deficit Version) System is dedicated to serving you! Hello, Host! Congratulations, you have 'luckily' become the 'Star of Hope' for this era's civilization (Provisional; this can be revoked at any time if performance during the observation period is poor, and a punishment program will be initiated)!]

Excellence's hand jerked, and the half-cup of long-dormant Fat Happy Water finally found an outlet, splashing precisely onto his casual pants, which he had probably worn for a week and were a color somewhere between gray and black. The icy sensation stimulated his skin through the fabric, making him shudder and almost launch himself out of his chair.

"Holy crap?? Did I hallucinate from gaming all night? Or did the cola expire and produce neurotoxins?" Excellence shook his head vigorously, trying to shake the voice out like earwax. "This hallucination is quite unique; it comes with its own AI voice acting and a mockery aura?"

[Warning: Host 'Excellence'. Name Evaluation: Grade A+ (Extremely high potential and symbolic meaning, a piece of high-quality unpolished jade... unfortunately, it looks like the kind found in a latrine). Current Status Evaluation: Grade F- (Serious waste of talent and social resources, an inert gas turned spirit, a stumbling block to civilizational progress, a VIP among the reserve of parasites). Comprehensive Assessment: The name does not match the reality, the virtue does not match the position; urgent reform required! Recommendation: Return to the furnace for reforging (if this cannot be achieved on a physical level, then perform a mental-level formatting using electroconvulsive therapy)!]

Excellence: "..." How did this hallucination come with personal attacks? And they were extremely aggressive, hitting right where it hurts!

[Initial Task Released: 【Glimmer of Civilization】]

[Task Requirements: Within 30 natural days, independently manufacture and successfully operate a 'Miniature Nuclear Fusion Reactor (Verification/Knockoff/Good-Enough-to-Work Version)'. The energy output must be no lower than the standard required to continuously light a 10W LED bulb (must last for more than one minute). Success will contribute +0.0001 to this civilization's progress. It is hoped that the Host will make persistent efforts and strive to light the spark of civilization as soon as possible (though currently, it looks like a fart-induced spark the size of a match head).]

[Task Reward: 【Controllable Nuclear Fusion (Simple Kitchen Version) Technical Feasibility Argument Report and hand-crafted Guide.pdf】 (Contains detailed steps, precautions, and a backup plan for how to quickly clean up the scene and explain to relevant departments in case it explodes).]

[Task Failure Penalty: 1. 720 hours (i.e., 30 days) of continuous high-intensity bio-electric stimulation therapy (ensuring the Host remains conscious throughout to experience every millisecond of ultimate refreshment); and 2. 【Ultimate Invincible Deluxe Social Death Package】 (The system will ignore any physical isolation or network security measures to publicly release all of the Host's browser history since owning electronic devices, all socially-disastrous chat records, all hidden file lists on cloud drives, all game top-up records, and all dark history including but not limited to: wetting the bed in third grade, secretly wearing mom's high heels in fifth grade, the love letter written to the class beauty in seventh grade that was returned, and the contents of cheating notes from monthly exams in high school. This will be pushed via big data with precision to ensure that every one of your friends, family, classmates, teachers, and even potential future blind dates receive a pop-up notification immediately).]

Excellence suddenly sprang up from his chair. The movement was so violent that the old bones of the chair almost passed away on the spot, and his own old waist nearly groaned under the unbearable burden.

His face was pale, and cold sweat instantly gushed out like the Baotu Spring, soaking his graphic tee that read "Otaku on the March, Not a Blade of Grass Remains."

Browser history?! Wetting the bed in third grade?! And that love letter he thought he'd destroyed all evidence of, which was full of typos and the sour stench of a pretentious youth?!

What kind of devil's punishment is this?! Not even the eighteen levels of hell could come up with something this wicked and smoking! Compared to this, high-intensity electric shocks were practically a gentle massage in a SPA!

"Wait! System? Is this real? Are you fucking serious? Nuclear fusion?! Do you even know what that concept entails?!" Excellence shouted in the empty dorm, his voice cracking with terror. "Is that something that can be described with the words 'hand-crafted'?! And a simple kitchen version?! What, should I use a pressure cooker as the reaction vessel, or an eggbeater to stir the plasma? Cut the palladium with a kitchen knife? And finally, do I have to use a microwave for timed heating??"

[Host, please mind your language. Foul language is detrimental to the image of civilization. This system comes from a highly developed and morally noble civilization, aiming to guide low-level civilizations toward healthy development (although the evaluation of the Host's current civilization has been downgraded to 'in need of emergency rescue'). The task has been released; please complete it actively.] The system's electronic voice carried a cold decisiveness of "do it or wait for social death," as if saying "I am just a heartless task-releasing machine."

[Warm Tip: To assist the Host (this piece of unpolished jade that doesn't look very optimistic) in completing the task, a basic material list and procurement suggestions have been generated. Please check them. In the spirit of efficiency and economy (extreme stinginess), it is strongly recommended that the Host make full use of localized resources (mooch if you can, borrow instead of buying, and carry forward the style of hard work and plain living).]

A semi-transparent blue light screen appeared out of thin air before Excellence's eyes, looking like the effect of low-quality VR glasses. On it was listed a string of ridiculous items that made his eyes nearly pop out:

Industrial-grade Diamond (5mm×5mm×1mm): 2 pieces. (Link attached: Taobao shop "Old Wang's Diamond Wholesale." The owner's avatar is an old man smoking a pipe. Shop bio: Specializes in various industrial diamonds, supports laser coding, honest business, no cheating of old or young. Price: ¥99.8 with free shipping. Note "System Recommended" and you might even haggle for 5 yuan off.)

Ultrapure Water (≥15MΩ·cm): 500mL. (Note: Can be "borrowed" from the innermost part of the third reagent cabinet under the window of the second laboratory on the west side of the third floor of the school's Chemistry Department Lab Building. Every night from 19:30-20:00, the administrator Uncle Zhang will go to the stairwell toilet to smoke a lonely cigarette without fail, lasting about 8 and a half minutes. Please seize the opportunity, move quickly, maintain a cool posture, and bring your own similar-looking empty bottle to swap it out just in case. System tip: Uncle Zhang has a keen sense of smell; do not use bottles that have held drinks.)

Oxygen-free High-conductivity Copper Wire (2mm diameter): 10 meters. (Note: Can be drawn by the Host's family factory, "Zhuo Yue Precision Machining Factory." For detailed parameter requirements, see Appendix: "Feasibility Report on Using Own Factory Equipment to Draw Oxygen-Free Copper Wire Meeting Nuclear Fusion Requirements (Including Dad's Possible Reactions and Counter-strategies).")

Borosilicate Glass Beaker (1000mL): 1 piece. (Link attached: Pinduoduo "Lab Glassware Clearance Sale." The shop is flooded with positive reviews: "The beaker quality is great, just the right size for making instant noodles!" "Bought it to drink beer, friends all say it looks domineering!" Price: ¥9.9, as low as ¥7.9 with a coupon.)

Palladium Powder (99.9% purity, 50g): (Link attached: A manufacturer on Alibaba, supports small wholesale, starting from ¥500. Customer service "Xiao Li" says the price for small quantities is negotiable, but no invoice will be provided. System suggestion: You can say you are making handmade jewelry.)

... (There's a long list following, including but not limited to specific models of capacitors that need to be scavenged from second-hand markets, a reflective layer that needs to be processed from soda cans and tin foil, and a certain lithium salt suggested to be extracted from scrapped electric vehicle batteries, etc.)

Excellence stared at this devilish shopping list that seemed like a tag-team effort from Pinduoduo, Taobao, and Alibaba, further blended with street smarts and a crime manual. Especially that note about "borrowing" Ultrapure Water—he felt his CPU (brain) had completely fried, and he even smelled something burning.

"System... Great One... You..." Excellence's mouth twitched, and his tone involuntarily took on a respectful air. "Were you... in procurement before? And the kind specifically in charge of saving money, who could split a penny into eight pieces? This 'castrated version' of yours... the thing that was castrated wasn't the budget and your integrity, was it?!"

[Countdown starting: 29 days 23 hours 59 minutes 58 seconds...] The system completely ignored his complaining and began the countdown with a cold, death-warrant-like electronic voice. Each number felt like a small hammer striking Excellence's fragile soul.

Excellence slumped back into the creaking chair, staring blankly at the character "Sovereign Blade of Stars" in the game, which had automatically respawned and was standing there stupidly. He looked down at the sticky cola stain on his pants, then thought about the social death penalty that was like a dark joke and that ridiculous material list.

He felt that his life as a salted fish—that flat, comfortable highway where he could occasionally sunbathe—had truly, at this moment, collapsed with a thunderous boom. Then, he was forced onto a rugged mountain path leading toward an unknown nuclear explosion... or social death... by a mudslide named "System."

And in the bottom right corner of his old laptop, whose fan was whirring as if it were about to take off for freedom, a news push window he usually ignored was persistently flashing a headline: "Recent abnormal solar activity, weak unknown energy fluctuations observed in many places globally. Experts say it may be related to new astrophysical phenomena, no evidence yet of impact on Earth..."

This line of small text and the death-warrant countdown voice in his mind seemed to produce a subtle, bone-chilling resonance.

"Dammit..." Excellence muttered to himself, finally accepting reality. "First... I have to deal with that Uncle Zhang who watches the toilets?"

For the first time, his gaze truly and forcedly fell upon that brand-new fundamentals of analog circuits. Maybe... perhaps... possibly... this thing had a tiny bit of a fundamental connection to hand-crafting nuclear fusion?

A salted fish's journey to turn over often begins with a forced threat sufficient to make one wet their pants. Excellence's life seemed like it was really going to become "excellent," though the direction seemed a bit... too energy-oriented.