Chapter 179: The Loser Club
Peter, Will, and Dylan were sitting in their dorm room, drinking and chatting.
Peter was a slender young man, tall and thin, wearing black-rimmed glasses that gave him a refined look. Yet, this unassuming young man was the very same person who had just invented the groundbreaking room-temperature superconductor!
"Pete... man, a room-temperature superconductor! You just casually invented it without saying a word?" Will asked, his voice thick with envy as he popped open another beer and enthusiastically handed it to Peter.
"Yeah, Pete! When you become a big-shot scientist, you’ve got to look out for us!" Dylan added with a fawning smile.
Both Will and Dylan were struggling to process reality. How was Peter so lucky? A complete turnaround in life, all in just a few days? It was absolutely unbelievable.
The three of them had originally been a trio of slackers, just coasting through life on the ship. But now, one of them had suddenly turned his life around and become a superstar. It felt entirely surreal.
"...No problem, no problem," Peter said, playing the part of the magnanimous friend as he took a large gulp of his drink.
Because he hadn’t had alcohol in a long time, he felt a buzz after only two beers. Of course, the dizziness wasn’t just from the alcohol; the sheer thrill of his recent success played a part, too.
It was incredibly refreshing! Whether it was the joy of drinking or the rush of his new status, Peter didn’t care. He was just having a blast.
Alcohol had become a rare luxury, only available for purchase with the new Federation credits, and it was incredibly expensive. Will and Dylan had clearly emptied their wallets to treat him like this.
"I’ll definitely hire you guys when I get my own research institute established," Peter said out loud, though inwardly, he was dreading the idea. He really did want to help his friends, but if he hired these two good-for-nothings, wouldn’t he end up doing all the work himself? He would be exhausted! Research institutes were expected to actually produce scientific results, after all.
"However..." Peter added, quickly finding an excuse, "You guys need to take some basic doctoral courses first and improve your education. Otherwise, even if my institute is established, it will be shut down for lack of results. You know this isn’t the era of nepotism anymore. I can’t carry an entire research facility by myself."
Will and Dylan stared at him, stunned and speechless.
It made sense. The competition between research institutes within the Federation was notoriously fierce. If a project failed to produce results for an extended period, its funding was pulled and the team was dismantled.
Will and Dylan had experienced a very tough few years. Because they lacked any specialized skills, they had been bouncing from one menial job to another without finding anything stable. They mostly relied on temporary labor assignments for the government. With no steady income, they struggled to make ends meet.
While basic daily necessities in the community sectors were free, there was an unspoken social rule about taking only your fair share. So, they only took the exact average amount of rations and never dared to hoard more. It wasn’t a matter of courage or cowardice; even though they were slackers who drifted through life, they still had their pride and basic decency. They never caused trouble.
As for the people who did cause trouble and commit crimes, they had long since been locked away in the prison sector.
Rumor had it and it was only a rumor, that a prison boss named Calvin had taken control of the facility with the tacit approval of the officials. He was reportedly running a strict, draconian collectivist system inside. The psychological conditioning and behavioral transformation methods used there were highly sophisticated.
Anyone who went inside underwent forced ideological reform. Upon release, they were either completely brainwashed, fanatically preaching about the "Son of God" or they became so completely terrified of breaking the rules that they never dared to step out of line again.
Just thinking about the prison sent chills down Will and Dylan’s spines. The people in there were dangerous, and a stint in the facility changed a person for life. Will used to run with a larger crowd, but anyone from his circle who got sent to prison came back obsessed and cut ties with the group. It was a terrifying reality.
"The good old days are gone forever," Peter advised them earnestly. "We can never go back to how things were before Earth was destroyed. What’s the point of just wasting your lives like this? This is an era that values intellect, and it’s going to stay that way."
Inwardly, Peter was cursing himself. When did I become such a serious buzzkill? he thought. But he had to get used to it. Now that he was a renowned scientist, he had to maintain a high level of professionalism. He couldn’t let the scientific community down! If Will and Dylan weren’t his oldest friends, he wouldn’t have bothered giving them this lecture.
"Sigh... you’re right, Pete, you’re right," Will admitted. They might be lazy, but they weren’t stupid. They had understood this harsh reality for a long time.
Peter wasn’t the first of their social circle to make this change; several of their old friends had already read the writing on the wall and forced themselves to start studying. The harsh environment of space demanded it.
But studying was exhausting, and Will and Dylan had simply been too lazy to commit. This time, however, they were genuinely moved. If Peter, who had always seemed like a fellow slacker could secretly study and transform into a world-class scientist, maybe there was hope for them.
Another member had officially graduated from their group of losers, leaving only the two of them behind. Peter was leaving them in the dust!
"We’ll start studying right away. We promise we won’t hold your research institute back," the two men vowed confidently as they left the dorm, though Peter had no idea how long their newfound motivation would last.
After finishing the last drop of his beer, Peter adjusted his glasses, laid back on his bed, and let out a heavy sigh.
"Son of a..." he muttered, swearing in a way that was completely uncharacteristic of a ’great scientist.’
He lay there, lost in memories of the past.
The three of them had been wealthy kids back on Earth, the absolute elite of high society. They had originally left Earth aboard the *Victory* spacecraft for a luxury vacation to the moon.
Yes, a tourist trip to the moon!
The ticket had been exorbitantly expensive, costing over ten million dollars per person, an amount only the ultra-rich could afford. The old global governments had deliberately inflated the price to make lunar tourism an exclusive status symbol, using the massive profits to fund the Lunar Base.
At the time, the Victory carried about eighty passengers, bringing in a staggering $800 million in revenue for a single flight. The rest of the ship’s manifest consisted of engineers, scientists, and military personnel who, of course, rode for free.
In that era, traveling to space was the ultimate trend among the global elite. In upper-class circles, if you hadn’t been to the moon, you were looked down upon. It was the absolute pinnacle of luxury, making private jets and supercars look like cheap toys.
But then, the unthinkable happened: the Earth was destroyed.
In an instant, all their vast wealth turned to dust. All their powerful political connections vanished. Everything was wiped out, and humanity had to start from scratch. It didn’t matter if you used to be a millionaire or a billionaire; in the cold reality of space, a wealthy kid’s social value was vastly inferior to that of a basic mechanic or a miner.
For these spoiled heirs, life had plummeted from heaven straight to hell. Many of them had completely broken down, unable to cope with their sudden loss of power and privilege.
But who cared about their lost money? Everyone was grieving the loss of their home planet; no one had the time or sympathy to coddle a bunch of broke billionaires.
Peter, Will, and Dylan had cried themselves to sleep many times. Although they had been raised in high society and had received elite educations, they were still just kids in their twenties. Despite their big talk, they had never actually faced a real hardship in their lives. When they realized everything they owned was gone forever, they nearly lost their minds.
Those who committed crimes during their emotional breakdowns were ruthlessly arrested and thrown into the prison sector. The rest had no choice but to grit their teeth and endure.
Trauma naturally creates small, tight-knit communities. The eighty-odd wealthy passengers from the Victory had formed a support group to confide in each other. As long as it remained a peaceful support system, the new Federation government turned a blind eye.
But there were always those who couldn’t let go of the past. Some tried to demand their old privileges back. A few spread malicious rumors to smear the Federation and were quickly arrested. Others tried to bribe officials to restore old-world corporate policies, but their empty promises of ’future wealth’ were completely ignored.
Unsurprisingly, the support group quickly dissolved.
Peter chuckled self-deprecatingly in the dark. That group could have honestly been called "The Losers’ Club." They were a bunch of people with no survival skills and no real-world leverage. What made them think they could stand out? Did they think their old underhanded corporate tactics would work in a fight for survival? If an entitled, unskilled slacker could somehow rise to power here, humanity wouldn’t last a year in this dangerous universe.
Over the years, the remaining heirs had finally accepted reality. Their old way of thinking was dead. With Earth gone, they couldn’t buy their way to the top anymore. They had to adapt and integrate into the new society.
Under the strict guidance of the Federation, a large number of these unskilled former elites joined the military and were thoroughly disciplined. Another group went back to school and slowly integrated into the working class.
Now, out of the original eighty passengers, only a few were still drifting through life doing nothing. Namely, Will and Dylan.
They weren’t actively rebelling, but they had no skills and were too lazy to learn. They were just wasting their days. If they kept going like this, they would never survive.
Peter sighed heavily. Given the current situation, he had no choice. He had to drag his useless brothers into the future, didn’t he?