17: Chapter 17: A Novice in a Romance Show Instantly Transforms into a Special Forces Soldier!

The aisle in business class was half as narrow as in first class, and the seat density instantly doubled.

Li Li walked through the middle section. Cen Ye was slumped in his seat, wearing headphones, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the beat-making software on his phone screen.

A blue Number 1 card was slapped directly onto the small tray table in front of him.

It made a crisp sound.

Cen Ye took off one headphone and lifted his eyelids to glance at it.

"What is this?"

"A program segment," Li Li said concisely. "You take this Number 1 card, and then pass the Number 2 card in your hand to the next male. Choose anyone."

Cen Ye picked up the card, flipped it over to read the rules, gave a lazy "Oh," and began to ponder. His gaze swept between Han Xubai across the aisle and Gu Zeyan and Shen Jue in the rows behind.

A second later, he stood up and walked straight toward Han Xubai.

"Give it to Han the Mouthpiece," he muttered, as if talking to himself. "He talks a lot and can chat with anyone, saves trouble."

Han Xubai was pushing his gold-rimmed glasses onto his forehead, feigning sleep. Feeling a weight on his chest, he opened his eyes.

The Number 2 card was casually stuffed by Cen Ye into his crisp shirt pocket, with only a blue corner showing.

"What is this?"

"For the program," Cen Ye said, already turning away. "Read the rules and pass it on."

Han Xubai pulled out the card, held it between his fingertips, and flipped it over twice. The commercial smile on his lips faded slightly. He immediately understood the information gap.

His gaze swept over the remaining Gu Zeyan and Shen Jue.

His choice took only half a second.

He stood up, walked to Gu Zeyan, and handed over the Number 3 card, his movements polite yet distant.

"Zeyan, it's your turn."

The sunny smile on Gu Zeyan's face didn't change at all as he reached out to take it. However, his right index finger rubbed the edge of the card, not light and not heavy. The motion didn't look like he was reading it, but rather weighing the card.

He didn't even ask why. After reading the rules, he turned and handed the final Number 4 card to Shen Jue at the end of the line.

Shen Jue was holding his phone, livestreaming. Seeing the card handed to him, he froze for three seconds.

He looked down at the Number 4 in his hand.

Then he looked up and scanned the room—Cen Ye Number 1, Han Xubai Number 2, Gu Zeyan Number 3.

His signature comma-shaped bangs seemed to droop.

"Wait a second," he said to his livestream camera, his face full of confusion. "Does this Number 4... mean I'm last?"

No one answered him. Because apart from the card issuer, no one knew the true meaning of the numbers was matching.

"Why do I feel like this number is unlucky..." he muttered, but still tucked the card into his hoodie pocket.

On the other side, the transmission on the women's side was completed almost simultaneously, and even faster.

Jiang Rumu's Number 1 card had long since reached Qi Wanyin. After reading the rules, Qi Wanyin didn't hesitate at all; she stood up and gently placed the Number 2 card on Yin Ruoying's small table.

Yin Ruoying pushed her sunglasses onto her head, revealing a pair of sharp phoenix eyes.

"What kind of trick is this again?"

Although she complained, her hand had already deftly pulled out the Number 3 card and passed it to the back row without even looking at it.

Fang Ruowei immediately accepted it with a smile, her posture elegant and appropriate.

Thus, the final Number 4 card landed in Wen Ditang's hands.

Her fingertips trembled almost imperceptibly as she took the card. Her long eyelashes hung down like two small fans, covering the emotions in her eyes. Her lips moved silently.

Her other hand, inside her dress pocket, was tightly twisting a ribbon.

Round and round.

The transmission ended.

The final matching results were settled invisibly—

Number 1: Qi Wanyin × Cen Ye.

Number 2: Yin Ruoying × Han Xubai.

Number 3: Fang Ruowei × Gu Zeyan.

Number 4: Wen Ditang × Shen Jue.

And, the one holding the dealing rights—Li Li × Jiang Rumu.

Li Li returned to his seat in first class.

Jiang Rumu looked up, shifting her gaze from her magazine.

"Finished distributing?"

"Finished."

She gave an "Mm" and lowered her eyes, continuing to read her magazine.

She didn't ask another word.

The moment Li Li sat down, his left wrist suddenly burned.

This time, blue characters popped out rapidly, the font size was a size larger, and it was surrounded by a dazzling gold border—

[Ding!! Side quest "Follower Growth Operation" progress update!]

[Current follower count: 198,743.]

[Progress to third tier reward (100k followers) — Achieved!]

[Progress to hidden tier reward (200k followers) — 1,257 people left!]

[Estimated arrival time: 1 hour and 47 minutes.]

[Rewards calculating—]

[First tier (10k followers): Five-person individual tactical ration pack.]

[Second tier (50k followers): Arabic · Proficiency.]

[Third tier (100k followers): Close-quarters combat · Proficiency.]

[Note: Yes, these three rewards have absolutely nothing to do with the Dating Reality Show.]

[Further note: The system doesn't know why a Dating Reality Show quest would issue battlefield equipment. But the system advises the host not to investigate. Investigating easily leads to baldness.]

Li Li stared at the blue characters on his wrist, his mind racing.

Vehicle proficiency for flying planes and driving tanks.

Emergency landing procedures.

Tactical rations.

Arabic.

Close-quarters combat.

Clues twisted into a rope in his mind. The system wasn't preparing for a romantic date; it was preparing for a war.

He stood up and pulled down his sleeve to cover the blue light.

He walked straight toward the storage area at the back of first class. His worn-out black backpack was stuffed in the most inconspicuous corner of the luggage rack.

He unzipped it.

His left wrist burned again.

At the bottom of the backpack, five palm-sized, vacuum-compressed aluminum foil blocks had appeared out of thin air. On the khaki packaging, a line of cold English was printed—

"MRE-TACTICAL / Individual Tactical Ration / Calories 3200kcal / Shelf life 5 years"

Five packs, stacked neatly.

On top lay only his only change of T-shirt and a pair of socks.

Li Li silently pushed the five ration packs deeper into the backpack, but he didn't withdraw his hand.

He turned and opened the refrigerated cabinet in the small galley next to him.

Half a cabinet of portable snacks. Energy bars, nut packs, small cookies, chocolate, dehydrated fruit slices.

All complimentary items for first class.

Li Li didn't say a word; he crouched down, pulled out his worn-out bag, and started stuffing them in.

His movements had no hesitation, methodical and efficient.

He tore open the energy bar boxes, inserting them one by one vertically into the gaps between the ration packs; he used the nut packs as filler, stuffing them into every corner; the cookie boxes were pressed on the very top. Finally, he tucked several rows of chocolate into the interlayer between the T-shirt and socks—fearing they would melt.

His hands didn't stop.

What ran through his mind wasn't "Should I take it," but "Is it enough."

The experience of delivering 9.9-yuan takeout on an e-bike in a rainstorm in his past life had engraved the conditioned reflex to the word "free" into his bones—take it, take as much as you can.

But this time, what drove his hands wasn't just the instinct of a poor person.

It was more the news about the destroyer and the closed airspace, and this outrageous skill tree on his wrist, from "knowing how to fly a plane" to "knowing how to fight."

The system was telling him one thing in the simplest and crudest way—

After landing, food might not be something you can just buy if you want it.

"Sir?"

A voice came from above him.

It was the blonde, brown-skinned flight attendant. She had stopped beside him at some point, the gold wing badge on her uniform collar gleaming under the lights.

She watched as a first-class passenger crouched on the floor, frantically stuffing free snacks from the refrigerated cabinet into a worn-out backpack with a broken zipper.

A crack appeared in her professional smile.

Li Li didn't even look up.

"Can I take these?"

The flight attendant's gaze shifted from his backpack, which was bulging like an explosive pack, back to his unusually calm face, pausing for two seconds.

"...Yes, you can, sir."

"Thanks."

The last piece of chocolate was stuffed in, and the zipper was pulled shut with effort and difficulty.

He shoved the backpack back into the luggage rack and sat back down in 1E.

Jiang Rumu had put down her magazine at some point.

She looked at him, saying nothing.

The announcement sounded at the right moment, repeating in Chinese, English, and Arabic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this flight has begun its descent and is expected to land at Dubai International Airport in one hour and twenty minutes..."

Li Li leaned back against the seat.

His phone screen lit up.

On the TikTok backend, the follower count had jumped to: 203,441.

The hidden reward for 200k followers was also obtained.

He knew how to fly a plane, how to fight, how to speak Arabic, and his backpack was stuffed with rations and snacks.

He turned off his phone.

Outside the porthole, the coastline of the Persian Gulf revealed itself from beneath the clouds, sunlight smashing onto the sea surface, shattering into a blinding white.

On the horizon in the far distance, a gray shadow was moving.

Li Li's pupils constricted slightly.

The silhouette was too narrow, the draft was too deep, and the superstructure was dense and low.

It wasn't a cargo ship, nor a cruise ship.

In his mind, the "Global Sea, Land, and Air Vehicle Encyclopedia" forcibly instilled by the system opened automatically, and a page of cold data and images smashed directly into his cognition—

Arleigh Burke-class destroyer.

It was no longer just a line of text in the news.

It was right there, like a silent shark, patrolling outside the coastline where the plane was about to land.

The seatbelt sign clicked on with a "pop."