Ascending the Demon Realm

After striving so hard to enter Eastern University, our first assignment was... cleaning toilets?

Though Sister Mei was our supervisor, none dared question her. Questions bred complications, complications led to trouble, and trouble meant potential point deductions!

This simulated demon realm society.

Sister Mei now represented our corporate superior.

When superiors issue incomprehensible orders - comply or challenge?

Yesterday's briefing already clarified: professors here don't teach. They solely evaluate whether we qualify as elite candidates for demon realm positions.

Credits meant everything. Sister Mei holding our scores equated to holding our fates.

"Could this be a test?" The debate ignited.

"Testing bathroom maintenance skills?"

"Wait! Maybe it's assessing willingness to start from the bottom!"

"Why should we?" Avian demon Cuilin snapped. "We're Eastern University students, not janitors!"

The toilet debate nearly escalated.

"I refuse."

"What if they deduct points?"

The rebel fell silent.

Zhu Zhu intervened: "Eastern University operates on hidden rules. Compliance ensures safety - at worst, we break even."

Nods spread through the group.

"There must be bonus points here!" The atmosphere shifted palpably.

Suddenly, camaraderie evaporated. Toilet cleaning became strategic gameplay - everyone eyeing potential credits.

The scoring system offered no manuals. Colleagues became competitors.

I leaned against a stall, maintaining calm. Yesterday's perfect score gave me breathing room. Following orders seemed safest, though I'd considered challenging tasks for specific majors.

The rest engaged in mental gymnastics while we stood at attention like bathroom attendants, avoiding even phone checks despite knowing Spy-Eyes (living camera organisms evolved from ancient ocular demons) couldn't permeate restrooms.

When two ministry officials entered discussing promotions, nearby students' eyes lit up - juicy gossip!

Canine-eared Luoluo suddenly flattened her ears. Others belatedly followed, realizing: eavesdropping prevention might be the test!

My capybara-faced composure revealed nothing. Let them wonder.

The officials entered expanded stalls (complete with bathing facilities - demonkind takes bathroom luxury seriously). Soon, cigarette smoke wafted from my neighbor's stall while Luoluo's side cried: "No sanitary pads here!"

Others remained statue-still, ears covered. Responding would prove they'd overheard earlier gossip.

"Anyone-"

Cutting through the tension, I responded: "One moment, please." Knocking on my neighbor's door: "Ma'am, may I retrieve supplies from your stall?"

The door opened revealing an elephantine hoof.