Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest! - Chapter 262

Chapter 262: Two Degrees
“Hey!” A friendly voice broke through his thoughts.

A guy about his age jogged up, wearing a bright orientation team shirt and a smile. “I’m Mark. I am part of the freshman helping team. What department are you in?”

“I’m in a few departments. I’m in the computer science department and the medicine department.”

He’d chosen these two degrees carefully.

The combination would prove useful for his long-term plans.

Mark’s jaw literally dropped, his clipboard lowering. “Are you joking?”

Noah fixed him with a level stare, expression neutral. “Why would I joke with you when I just met you?”

The question hung in the air, neither accusatory nor defensive, just matter-of-fact. This was the approach that unsettled people most—the complete absence of the need to impress.

Mark scratched the back of his head, suddenly self-conscious. “You’re right. My bad. It’s just that these are one of the two hardest degrees and you’re doing both of them simultaneously, it’s very impressive.”

Noah nodded once. “It’s alright.”

No explanation offered, no humble brag about his intelligence or work ethic.

The less he said, the more people filled in the blanks themselves.

Mark seemed to recover his demeanor, pointing across the quad.

“Alright, you see those two groups over there. The first one is for computer science students, the second is for Medicine. Approach them and take the leaflet, it should tell you everything you should know about your course and it also has a map.”

“Thanks.” Noah moved past, heading toward the computer science group first.

His earpiece buzzed again—not his AI this time, but a call. Noah checked the display on his watch.

Leo from the gold shop. Probably about the latest gold shipment. That would have to wait.

The computer science group was exactly what he’d expected—a mix of stereotypical coding prodigies who’d been building apps since middle school, wealthy international students with perfect test scores, and a few older students changing careers.

The group leader, a woman in her thirties with a PhD student badge, was explaining course requirements.

Noah collected his materials, mentally cataloging the professors’ names.

As he turned toward the medicine group, a notification flashed across his phone. Another million added to his morning’s work. The algorithm was performing perfectly.

The medicine group had a different energy—more intense, more competitive. These were future doctors, after all. The stakes were higher, and it showed in their faces. Noah slipped into the back of the crowd, observing.

A tall, distinguished professor was addressing them, speaking about the rigors of medical training. “—commitment unlike any other field. If you’re here for prestige or because your parents expect it, I suggest you reconsider now. Medicine demands everything. It will take 90% of your time.”

“You will be in your room with cramming work, whilst your friends are going out and having fun. Do not think that you could pass by luck or by last minute revision, because you won’t.”

Noah suppressed a smile.

“Thompson? Noah Thompson?” A

Noah turned to see another orientation guide checking a list of names.

“Yes?”

The guide looked down at the picture next to the name, then ticked it.

“Professor Whitaker wants to see you. Computer Science department head.” The guide looked impressed despite himself. “Says it’s about your application.”

Around them, other students whispered. Pre-orientation meetings with department heads were rare, usually reserved for exceptional cases—scholarship recipients or, occasionally, those who needed to be talked out of a program they weren’t qualified for.

Given Noah’s credentials, it was clearly the former.

“Where?” Noah asked simply.

“Maxwell Building, third floor, room 312. I can show you—”

“I’ll find it.” Noah headed off, leaving the guide blinking in surprise.

His phone buzzed again. Leo was persistent today.

“Yes?” Noah answered quietly, keeping his pace steady.

“Boss, we’ve got a situation at the shop. Someone’s asking questions about our inventory sources. Says he’s from regulatory compliance.”

Noah’s mind shifted gears smoothly. “Standard procedure. Show him the legitimate invoices only.”

“Got it, boss.”

The call ended as Noah reached Maxwell Building. Built in the 1800s but recently renovated, it housed the Computer Science department’s administrative offices. Room 312 was at the end of a long hallway lined with research posters and achievement plaques.

He knocked once.

“Enter,” came a clipped voice.

Professor Katherine Whitaker sat behind a desk covered in organized stacks of papers. Despite being in her fifties, she had the intense energy of someone half her age. Her eyes fixed on Noah immediately.

“Mr. Thompson. Dual enrollment in Computer Science and Medicine. Perfect test scores. And a rather interesting project submission with your application.” She gestured to the chair across from her desk. “Please, sit.”

Noah took the seat, maintaining eye contact. “Professor.”

“I’ve been teaching at Cambridge for twenty-three years, Mr. Thompson. In that time, I’ve seen exceptional students come and go.” She leaned forward slightly. “But I’ve never seen an AI algorithm like the one you submitted with your application. It’s at least five years ahead of current commercial technology.”

Noah offered a modest shrug. “I’ve always been interested in machine learning.”

“This goes beyond interest.” She held up a tablet displaying his submission. “This is graduate-level work. None of the PhD students I have seen could design something this elegant.”

Noah did not give the algorithm he had been using, he had given one that was slightly more advanced than what was currently available. Furthermore, he did not give the complete algorithm and left it as a ‘project to complete’.

“Thank you,” Noah said simply.

Professor Whitaker studied him for a moment longer. “I’ve arranged for you to have access to our advanced computing lab. Normally reserved for third-year students and above. Your algorithm has… potential applications we’d like to explore.”

“I appreciate that.”

“There’s also the matter of your dual enrollment.” Her tone shifted slightly. “It’s highly unusual. Most students find either Computer Science or Medicine challenging enough on their own.”

Noah met her gaze steadily. “I work well under pressure.”

A slight smile touched her lips. “Evidently. Well, Mr. Thompson, I look forward to seeing what you accomplish here.” She handed him a key card. “This will give you access to the advanced lab. Don’t make me regret this exception.”

“I won’t.”