Chapter 8: Merit Transfer

“From now on, whenever you get a mission, come ask me first—I’ll help you review it.”

Chen Yanan sat on the hospital bed and instructed, “I’ll send you a summary of key points and precautions for patrol duties—study them carefully and remember them.”

Lin Qing nodded, feeling a warmth he hadn’t known in a long time.

For people in the end times, care, love, family ties… these were luxuries, and he hadn’t felt them in years—he didn’t resist them.

Even if all betrayal has its price, human nature cannot be tested.

The ebb and flow of warmth and coldness in human relationships is normal; being clear-minded is enough.

“You’re assigned to Group Two under Captain Han, right?” Chen Yanan asked.

“Yes.” Lin Qing asked, “What’s Captain Han like?”

“Han Linsong is a good man.”

Chen Yanan said, “He’s obsessive-compulsive, a bit rigid, and strict about rules, but he’s fair and upright. Working under him won’t get you any graft, but at least you won’t have to worry about him pulling tricks or stealing your merits—that’s what I trust.”

Lin Qing raised an eyebrow slightly.

He’d heard that patrol work sometimes offered graft—like during raids on casinos or nightclubs, where you inevitably stumbled into sensitive illegal zones, and bosses would offer “gifts” to avoid trouble.

Of course, even if there was graft, it had nothing to do with temporary patrol officers, so he’d only heard rumors.

“No wonder…”

Lin Qing suddenly frowned. “No wonder Xiao Pei specifically assigned me to Group Two—he doesn’t want me to get graft, does he?”

He looked at Chen Yanan. “Is Xiao Pei afraid I’ll steal graft to pay for your leg treatment?”

Chen Yanan nodded slightly. “I used to have big ambitions—I didn’t care about petty gains and didn’t want to ruin my future, so I rarely took bribes and saved little.”

She sighed. “Now I need money badly, and that Xiao probably fears you’ll take advantage of this time to steal graft and raise funds for a better prosthetic limb.”

“If my strength doesn’t drop too much, his chance of becoming permanent shrinks.” She smirked. “But he deliberately placed you under Han Linsong—someone rigid and upright—so you won’t get any graft for a while.”

Lin Qing shook his head slightly.

Xiao Peidong, a man with no shame, clearly had deep cunning.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Chen Yanan said dismissively, “Xiao’s overthinking. Between recovery and preparation, you’ve got at most two or three months before I need the prosthetic surgery. You’re just a newly permanent patrol officer—even if you were allowed to steal graft, how much could you gather in two or three months?”

She patted Lin Qing’s hand. “Just being assigned to Han Linsong’s group is already the best outcome.”

“But…”

Lin Qing frowned slightly. “If I could gather more money, maybe I really could get you a better prosthetic limb?”

“Don’t overthink it.” Chen Yanan shook her head. “Between our savings, my work injury insurance, and disability compensation, we’ve got about two million. Your brother asked his contacts in the urban zone—this amount can buy the Dawn Group’s G21L prosthetic limb and spare power cells.”

“The next tier, the G53 series, starts at five or six million.”

She shook her head. “Even if you somehow scraped together another million or two in a few months, spending that much only improves endurance and minor specs—it doesn’t change performance fundamentally. There’s absolutely no need. Do you understand?”

Lin Qing nodded slightly.

He’d just had that thought—if he could gather enough, he’d gladly help.

“Good that you understand.”

Chen Yanan looked at him with satisfaction. “You’ve grown up.”

She silently thought: she’d protected this child too much, shielding him from hardship. Now that she’d been hurt, he’d matured quickly.

It’s changed… Lin Qing muttered to himself, then asked, “Sis, how can I learn combat techniques faster?”

“Besides earning merits, how else?” Chen Yanan glanced at him.

“If you took down the escapee who injured you, how many merits would that be?” Lin Qing suddenly asked.

Chen Yanan couldn’t help but look at him. “Don’t go looking for death.” “I was just curious,” Lin Qing shook his head. “I’m not that foolish.”

“True…”

Chen Yanan then said, “If you took him down, it’d definitely be a first-class merit. He’s far stronger than me, almost no weaknesses—even bullets barely hurt him, and he can escape even when surrounded. Only Director Yuan Anping of the city bureau’s elite unit could handle him.”

Bullets barely hurt him? Lin Qing felt a surge of longing.

Wasn’t this the strength he sought? Too bad—even his cousin couldn’t match him, and his own strength was far weaker.

“Merits…”

Chen Yanan paused, then said, “I still have two unused third-class merits. I’ll apply to transfer them to you. Once you earn one more third-class merit, you can try learning a combat technique.”

“Merits can be transferred?” Lin Qing was surprised.

Chen Yanan nodded. “Third-class merits can be transferred, but honors and records can’t—so you can’t use them for promotion. But for tangible rewards tied to merits, transfer is allowed.”

She sighed slightly. “All eight of my third-class merits and two second-class merits were used trying to learn combat techniques.”

“So you’ve learned six combat techniques?” Lin Qing asked.

Three third-class merits for one technique. One second-class merit for two techniques.

Chen Yanan’s total merits, after learning six techniques, left exactly two unused third-class merits.

“Six?”

Chen Yanan glanced at him. “Those were six attempts—not six successes. I tried six, and only three stuck. Only two are truly mastered.”

“So hard to learn?” Lin Qing asked, intrigued.

“Of course. The patrol bureau’s archive has four series—twenty-three techniques total. There’s always one you can enter, but it depends on luck.”

Chen Yanan said, “I was very lucky—six attempts, three successes. Someone unlucky might try ten and get none.”

Lin Qing understood.

He wasn’t worried—he could learn combat techniques after finishing the Four-Six Version of the Morning Practice.

“I’ll give you both my third-class merits.”

Chen Yanan looked at Lin Qing. “You still need one more third-class merit—get it yourself.”

“I’ll handle it.” Lin Qing nodded.

She’d already cut half the difficulty—he was grateful.

“Aren’t you good with firearms?”

Chen Yanan warned, “Get promoted to Level Three Patrol Officer fast—you need that rank to carry a gun.”

Lin Qing grunted.

Soon. If things go well, maybe this month.

…

After leaving the hospital, Lin Qing didn’t bother going to school—he was on the patrol path anyway; the college entrance exam didn’t matter much.

He returned home.

After eating a cheap but tasteless lunch, he began practicing the Four-Six Version of the Morning Practice to “repay his debt.”

Only sixty-five perfect repetitions left—felt manageable.

But after just one session, Lin Qing sensed something was off.

(End of Chapter)