After Lily dropped her harsh words to the Magic Research Association, all the other clubs that had previously tried to recruit her vanished into thin air.
Even if Lily ultimately didn’t get into the association, they no longer wanted to invite her either: an ordinary club couldn’t afford to host such a big-shot Buddha.
Even the student council stopped coming around to see Lily.
If she performed well in the tower challenge, she’d probably go straight into the association.
If she couldn’t even pass the minimum requirement and got “returned” by the association, then the student council wouldn’t really want her either—otherwise, it would make them look inferior to the association.
Lily was busy with classes and preparing for the tower challenge, so she didn’t take these cold shoulders to heart.
The only thing on her mind was: she might actually have to start a new club of her own after all.
Just then, someone knocked on her dormitory door.
“Who is it?”
“Hello, Lily. I’m Claire, vice president of the Magic Innovation Research Society. I’m here for recruitment.”
Lily had a vague impression of this club. Its name sounded a bit like the Magic Research Association, but that was where the similarity ended. The actual difference between them was even greater than between the “Student Council” and a “Monk Student Council.”
The association was a giant among campus clubs, while the Magic Innovation Research Society… well, let’s just say she’d seen their recruitment booth set up on Academy Avenue, and it had almost no foot traffic.
There were so many interesting clubs on campus—anything with “research” in the name just sounded dull. And if someone was genuinely passionate about research, they’d fight tooth and nail to get into a powerful, prestigious association, not hang around with some club that had no standing at all.
Rumor had it that the Magic Innovation Research Society didn’t rely on setting up booths on Academy Avenue for recruitment. Instead, they fooled new students during freshman orientation by trading on their name’s similarity to the association’s.
At that time, the new students had just arrived and most didn’t know it was a knockoff, so they’d join the club in a daze.
Lily’s expression turned odd: A club bold enough to copycat the association—and they’re still brave enough to come knocking when every other club is steering clear of me!
She opened the door and let the vice president in.
Claire, the research society’s VP, was a bespectacled third-year senior who looked refined and capable.
Once inside, she didn’t let her gaze wander and got straight to the point:
“Lily, are you thinking of starting your own new club? If so, why not take over the Innovation Research Society instead? Not only can we offer you a position, we can offer you the presidency. The previous president graduated and left, and we haven’t settled on a new one yet.”
Lily’s heart jolted.
Even Chris, who was cooperating with her, didn’t know she might want to start her own club. Maybe Avril had guessed a little, but aside from that, she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone!
Lily kept her composure. “Senior, what are you talking about? I’m currently locked in a battle with the association…”
“Mhm, I know about that. That’s exactly why I think you’re not planning to join the association. Other clubs aren’t coming after you, and you’re not in a rush either—that means you’re preparing to start your own club.”
If that weren’t the case, Claire wouldn’t have come. Given what a mess the research society was in, the chances of successfully recruiting Lily were just too low.
But with Lily stirring up all this trouble, Claire felt that an opportunity had arisen instead.
Claire had hit the nail on the head so squarely that Lily felt like playing dumb would be awkward and pointless.
Lily was baffled: She’s dealt with Avril before, so it makes sense that Avril knows she’s no pushover. But this senior—haven’t they never interacted before?
After a moment of silence, Lily said helplessly, “Senior, how did you figure it out?”
“I saw it.” Claire took off her glasses and handed them to Lily.
Lily took them with some confusion. When she put them on, she began to understand.
These weren’t glasses for nearsightedness or farsightedness—they were more like a screen that could project relevant information about the target!
When Lily looked at Claire, the lenses displayed: Claire, 21 years old, Vice President of the Magic Innovation Research Society…
Key events Claire had been involved in since enrollment were all recorded.
“These are the Omniscient Glasses our society developed. We collect and input information into them, and when there’s enough data, they can perform analysis and feedback for us.”
Claire explained to Lily:
“Now, tell the Omniscient Glasses, ‘I’m going to jump off a building,'” Claire said.
Lily did as she was told.
A red cross popped up on the lenses: Information mismatch! Information mismatch!
Clearly, based on the data the glasses had previously collected and analyzed, Claire wouldn’t jump off a building. This new piece of information was either wrong or missing crucial context.
“We’ve collected some important information about you since you enrolled. But when we told it that you were being too arrogant or that you’d been provoked by the association, it also flagged an information mismatch.”
Lily understood: this was a magical version of AI!
People could be misled—especially when Lily acted exactly as they expected, they’d subconsciously believe what they wanted to believe. But the AI wouldn’t.
“You’ve made something this impressive, and you still can’t beat the Magic Research Association?” Lily was a bit shocked.
At that, Claire looked a little embarrassed. “Well, this Omniscient Glasses project drained the club’s budget for several years, but in the end we only have this one pair. And the functionality… is kind of mediocre.”
Their original idea was that the glasses could scan anything and produce all the information instantly. In reality, that wasn’t possible. They had to collect the data themselves. But that involved other people’s privacy and such—why would anyone tell you?
The glasses could display information about Claire because she was a club member who’d voluntarily entered her own key details into the system.
And they had information on Lily because she was a high-profile figure on campus—everyone knew about her affairs, so they’d simply recorded that corresponding information.
If Lily went out wearing the glasses right now, they probably wouldn’t be able to read much of anything on most people.
An AI with major flaws in both its database and intelligence had limited use and could even produce significant analytical errors. On top of that, it had consumed enormous resources, and the club couldn’t afford to make a second pair.
That aside, the glasses had helped them publish quite a few papers and earn plenty of academic credits back in the day. At the time, they thought surpassing the association was just around the corner! Too bad those glory days were long gone.
Lily was also mulling things over in her mind: with the academy’s support, even these small clubs had their own hidden aces and unexpected talent—nothing to be underestimated.
If she could really take over an existing club directly, it might not be any worse than starting a brand-new one!
Lily asked, “Even if I fail the tower challenge and make a huge fool of myself, you’d still be willing to let me be president?”
“Yes.”
Claire said calmly:
“But I won’t deceive you either. To be honest, the club is in a bad spot right now—there’s a risk of it being shut down. I don’t have the confidence to fix everything on my own, which is why I came to you. Whether you can lead the club forward or go down with it depends on your abilities. Even if you succeed in the tower challenge, you’ll still have to face this problem.”
Lily nodded.
This was within her expectations. If things weren’t like this, there’s no way such an easy opportunity would’ve fallen into her lap.
Unless she started her own new club, a first-year student dreaming of becoming a club president was basically impossible—no matter how small the club.
“Then it’s settled.” Lily shook hands with Claire.
They didn’t go into further details. Even if Lily wanted to take over, it would have to wait until after the tower challenge.
It was just a verbal agreement, but Lily wasn’t afraid of Claire backing out—she could always reconsider starting her own club.
After seeing Claire off, Lily put the matter aside and turned her focus back to preparing for the tower challenge.
Right—she needed to ask Aaron for more inside info about the Magic Tower!
Lily had wanted to ask for a while, but she hadn’t seen Aaron for two days.
His office was empty. She’d also checked his lab—Aaron wasn’t there either, though there was a scruffy old man who’d been hanging around the whole time.
Well, given that the man was wearing the standard-issue instructor’s robe, Lily figured it was more appropriate to call him “Grandpa.”
Lily was actually a little curious: was this old man a friend of Aaron’s? She hadn’t heard him mention anyone like that before—and he was actually willing to give someone else lab access?
It couldn’t be that Aaron had hired him for help, could it? He didn’t have the money for that.
The old man never paid Lily any attention and didn’t seem easy to get along with. Lily didn’t dare to barge in rashly, so she could only suppress her curiosity and wait for Aaron to come back.
But because Avril had reminded her, Lily decided to go ahead and bother him anyway.
“Hello, Professor. Do you know where Aaron has been lately? When will he be back? I have some questions I’d like to ask him.”
“You’re looking for me? What is it?” The scruffy old man looked up, irritably ruffled his hair, and spoke in Aaron’s voice.
Lily’s pupils dilated in shock: Did I just time-travel a few decades into the future again?!