Luo Feng Faints

On June 7, the first day of the college entrance exams, the nationwide exam dates were the seventh, eighth, and ninth.

Luo Feng and Sett were assigned to No. 1 High School.

A huge crowd of parents and students had gathered outside No. 1 High School.

"This is what I call a great start. The higher the flag goes, the higher your score—and the better you did." Sett saw a woman in a qipao being interviewed.

Most parents had taken time off work to accompany their children to the exams, and many mothers had gone out of their way to wear qipaos. The atmosphere was much the same as the college entrance exams in his previous life.

The other students kept checking their admission tickets and pens to calm their nerves.

"Good luck, sweetheart!"

"Don't worry, Dad."

"Don't put too much pressure on yourself, kid. Just do your best. We won't blame you."

"Okay, Mom."

"Xiao Feng, just relax during the exam. Even if you don't get into First Military Academy, you can always go to Second Military Academy," Luo Feng's father told him.

"Mm!" Luo Feng said with a smile.

"Mom, Dad, head on back. I'm just going through the motions. This is my farewell ceremony to youth." Sett waved his parents away.

"All right. Your heart's not in it anyway. Just answer the questions you know, and don't do too badly."

"Don't worry."

A line of armed police officers stood outside the school gates in case anything went wrong.

"Luo Feng, let's go in."

Beep, beep! A loud car horn sounded. A brand-new black Mercedes-Benz S600 drove toward the gates, escorted by several police motorcycles. Everyone's eyes turned to the car.

After it stopped, three people got out. The one in the middle was a Martial Artist! Every year, a Martial Artist served as the security commander for the college entrance exams.

His eyes were as cold as a snake's. He barely acknowledged the education bureau director and police chief flanking him, giving them only the occasional nod and otherwise ignoring them.

Most people looked at the Martial Artist with admiration, curiosity, and excitement!

Martial Artists were humanity's last line of defense. They alone could leave the Base Cities to fight monsters and hunt them down. They had made enormous contributions to the safety of all humanity, and people everywhere were grateful to them. It was only natural that ordinary people looked up to Martial Artists.

"Martial Artists, Luo Feng—we'll become Martial Artists soon, too, won't we?" This was Sett's first time seeing one, but he wasn't particularly awestruck. He'd soon be a Martial Artist himself.

"Mm!"

"They're letting us in. Come on, Luo Feng."

"Xiao Feng, go on in. Your dad and younger brother will wait here. I'll head home and start cooking," Luo Hongguo said. "Go on."

"Good luck, Brother!" Luo Feng's younger brother, Luo Hua, cheered him on from his wheelchair.

"Mm, good luck! Dad, Mom, I'm going in."

Luo Feng and Sett followed the crowd through the gates.

Sett picked up the exam paper they had just handed out. A line was printed at the top: "2056 Jiangnan City High School Science Exam, Paper A."

He looked it over and realized he barely recognized any of it.

Damn it. Whatever, I'll just write something. The questions were completely different from those in his previous life, and in the month or so since he'd transmigrated, Sett had barely studied at all.

In the blink of an eye, it was June 9. Today's exam was math. I wonder if Luo Feng will faint, Sett thought.

Sett and Luo Feng had been assigned to the same exam room, with Sett seated at the back. He'd already spent two days sleeping through his exams. One more day and he'd be done. Then he could take the Quasi-Warrior Assessment.

"Hey, what's wrong? Wake up! Call an ambulance!"

Sett had been sleeping soundly when the commotion woke him. It turned out Luo Feng had fainted.

Looks like it was fate. We'll be able to take the Quasi-Warrior Assessment together soon, Sett thought.

Every time Luo Feng passed out, his strength improved by a lot. It was a good thing.

When the final bell rang, the college entrance exams were officially over. Sett left the school and called Luo Feng to ask where he was.

His mother answered. After learning which hospital he was at, Sett called home to let them know he'd be late, then headed straight to the hospital.

"You okay, Luo Feng?" Sett asked, setting the fruit he'd bought on the table.

"I'm fine. The math problems were too hard. I got stuck on one and fainted. How did you do?" Luo Feng asked.

"Don't ask. I recognized every character, but once they were put together, I had no idea what they meant. It was awful. At least my strength has improved lately. I'm probably already strong enough to pass the Quasi-Warrior Assessment, so I might as well become a Martial Artist."

"Mom, I feel like I've gotten a lot stronger lately, too. I'm probably at Quasi-Martial Artist level. I might not get into a good school this time, but I should have no problem passing the Quasi-Warrior Assessment."

"What? Xiao Feng, you're at Quasi-Martial Artist level?"

Luo Feng's parents were thrilled. Their family was going to have a Quasi-Martial Artist?

Martial Artists were society's most elevated group. They represented power, wealth, and privileges beyond the reach of ordinary people. Becoming a Martial Artist brought a family far more benefits than graduating from a military academy.

"Xiao Feng, that's great." His father patted him on the shoulder. What was a military academy graduate compared to a Martial Artist?

Seeing how happy his parents were made Luo Feng happy, too. He chuckled. "I haven't passed the assessment yet, so we shouldn't get too excited."

"Luo Feng, once you've recovered in a couple of days, let's pick a time to test our strength at the martial arts school," Sett said.

"Mm. Wait for my call at home. It'd be best if we passed together."

"Sure. Get some rest. I'll head out. Goodbye, Uncle and Auntie," Sett said.

"Take care." They had also been happy to hear that Luo Feng's friend was at Quasi-Martial Artist level. He'd made a good friend.

After leaving the hospital, Sett took a cab home. He had money to spare, so he decided to treat himself. Heh.

"Mom, I'm home. Is there anything left for me to eat?" Sett asked as he opened the door and saw Jin Wenying clearing the table.

"There is. I'll heat it up for you. Just a moment."

"How did you do?" Xiahai, who'd been watching a soap opera nearby, hurried over to ask.

"What do you think? It was what it was. I'm no good at academic subjects," Sett replied.

"Fair enough. Your grades have always been lousy. All the food you eat just turns into muscle. Martial Arts really are a better fit for you. I guess I was wrong." Xiahai sighed.

"What are you sighing for? You just wanted our son to inherit that ridiculous dream of yours. Come on, why force something you couldn't do on him?" Jin Wenying put the food in the microwave and came out to say.

"That's true. Sett, my dream used to be to become a lawyer, but I just wasn't cut out for it. I took the exams over and over and never passed. When you were little, I wondered if I could make you a lawyer instead.

"But as you grew up, I realized you weren't cut out for it either, so I stopped bringing it up. I was getting ahead of myself. Your mother's right. I shouldn't force my ridiculous dream onto you." Xiahai explained why he'd wanted Sett to attend a good university.

"Dad, it's fine. Look at these muscles. Heaven opened one door for me but closed another. There's nothing I can do about my grades. I'm just not cut out for studying," Sett said.

"Mm. You said you wanted to become a Martial Artist. How's your training going? Are you at Quasi-Martial Artist level yet? I read online that you need a punch strength of 900 kilograms and a speed of 25 meters per second to qualify.

"When I throw a punch, I figure it's only one or two hundred kilograms. I'm nowhere near strong enough," Xiahai asked.

"Dad, don't worry. I'm absolutely confident I can pass the Quasi-Warrior Assessment. I tested myself a couple of days ago, and I'm fine. In a few days, Luo Feng and I will take the assessment. Then we'll be able to move into a big house."

"Really? You're not just saying that to make me happy? Becoming a Martial Artist isn't as easy as you make it sound. Now both of you are suddenly at Quasi-Martial Artist level? What, are they handing it out like cabbage?

"Remember that Martial Artist on the sixth? He was so full of himself, he didn't even have to show the police chief any respect."

"Xiahai, you still don't believe our son?" Jin Wenying shouted from the kitchen.

"No, I just find it hard to believe. Suddenly our son is at Quasi-Martial Artist level. A Martial Artist—the most extraordinary person in human society!" Xiahai hurriedly said. "I read online that the younger you become a Martial Artist, the greater your potential.

"Our son isn't even eighteen yet. Could he become a War God someday?"

"Dad, you're getting way ahead of yourself. I haven't even passed the Martial Artist assessment yet, and you're already talking about becoming a War God." Sett couldn't help teasing him.

"Heh, you really are something. If you say you're strong enough, I believe you. I'm going to brag to my coworkers. Then I'll quit my job and retire at home." Xiahai said.

"The food's ready. Come eat. Your dad never takes anything seriously," Jin Wenying said, carrying the dishes out.

After dinner, Sett watched a bit of the soap opera with his dad and bragged with him. The family had a wonderful time together.