William Bolton wasn’t a fool. He had put in a lot of effort to write this report, of course hoping to make a name for himself through it. But he was just a trainee reporter, and although Gefeng Morning News wasn’t a major newspaper, there was no way they’d give a trainee an exclusive front-page headline. It was always easier to thrive under a big tree; he just wanted to ride on someone else’s reputation for a bit of fame.

William Bolton put on a fawning smile and said, “Chief Editor Bennett, I suggest that after you revise it, this report should still be published under your name. You’re a renowned journalist of your generation—only then will it have greater social impact and attract more attention.”

That flattery was well delivered. Eric Bennett had already been itching to claim this brilliant article as soon as he saw it, but as a senior, he couldn’t openly propose taking credit for a junior’s work. “That wouldn’t be appropriate, would it?”

William Bolton said earnestly, “Our responsibility as media professionals is to establish the right social values and awaken more conscience and awareness in people’s hearts. Without the editor-in-chief’s inspiration, this report wouldn’t exist. I’m just the pen and paper; you’re the guiding mind, the true creator.”

Eric Bennett beamed with delight. This kid really knew how to flatter, but he did make a good point. He was the one who had asked for the article, and if he’d written it himself, it would surely have been even better. If it was published under his own name, the social impact would certainly be broader.

“I have just one request.”

Eric Bennett’s heart skipped a beat—so there was a catch after all. He immediately became wary.

William Bolton placed the photos he’d taken at the pig farm in front of Eric Bennett. “Could you put my name under the photos?”

Eric Bennett thought it was something serious, but this request wasn’t excessive. He smiled and said, “No problem, I’ll arrange it. But shouldn’t you use a pen name?” The name William Bolton didn’t sound very dignified to him; the word “合欢” had some suggestive connotations in his mind.

“No need!” William Bolton wanted to make a name for himself—he wasn’t about to change his name or use a pseudonym. He was William Bolton, after all. He was actually worried that if he used a pen name, the reputation points wouldn’t be credited to him.

Eric Bennett looked over the photos William Bolton had provided and nodded. “Not bad, but there’s still room for improvement. Today, the Ministry of Culture’s Teacher Scott took a photo that was truly stunning. The paper has already decided to put it on the front page for Student Aid Day. You should study it carefully.”

William Bolton was sure that the photo was of the big-eyed girl he had taken. He hadn’t expected Emily Scott to be so shameless as to blatantly steal his photo. What mattered to William Bolton was the right to be credited; that was directly tied to his reputation points, and those points were tied to his life. What Emily Scott had done was a threat to his very existence—this was intolerable.

William Bolton didn’t expose the matter in front of Eric Bennett. After leaving the editor-in-chief’s office, he went straight to find Emily Scott.

“Teacher Scott!”

Emily Scott was editing her report, eyes fixed on her laptop screen, not even glancing at William Bolton—whether she was truly busy or just dismissive was unclear.

“I heard your report on left-behind children is making the front page?”

Emily Scott smiled. “It won’t be published until next week. You’re well informed.”

“Did you use my photo?”

“What photo?”

“The big-eyed girl. Teacher Scott, you really are forgetful.”

Only then did Emily Scott stop working and turn to William Bolton, her expression unchanged. “Yes, I used it.”

“Will my name be on it?”

Emily Scott laughed. “You’re just a trainee reporter. According to the paper’s rules, you don’t have the right to be credited. Don’t worry, I’ll recommend your articles when there’s a suitable opportunity in the future.” She knew she was in the wrong, so the second half of her sentence was an attempt to make amends, hoping to compensate him later.

“Trainee reporters don’t deserve to have their names on things?”

“It’s not about deserving—it’s about the rules.”

“I still insist on my right to be credited.”

Emily Scott was clearly getting impatient. “That’s not something I can decide.”

“Then I’ll talk to the editor-in-chief.”

Emily Scott chuckled. “No wonder Teacher Miller says you like to tattle, Little Bolton. I suggest you don’t go to the editor-in-chief—you should go straight to the president.”

“That’s a good suggestion!”

Seeing Emily Scott’s fearless expression, William Bolton understood—she was confident she had the upper hand. There was no way he was going to let all his hard work go to waste. His phone rang; he stepped aside to check the message, and this time there were several new options.

—Your reputation points: 12,222. To exchange for life points, press 1. To exchange for time pause, press 2. To exchange for remote detonation, press 3.

William Bolton immediately dismissed the first option. Living one day more or less didn’t matter to him—he still had three years left. He’d wait until he’d earned enough reputation points to cash them all in at once. Time pause? Didn’t seem useful. Remote detonation—now that sounded impressive.

William Bolton pressed 3. There was an explanation: within a five-meter range, you can detonate any low-power digital device you lock your gaze on. Special note: it will not cause any bodily harm. Each remote detonation requires 12,222 reputation points to exchange—clearly designed to wipe out his points.

To choose option 1, return to the previous menu and press 0.