Quasi-Warrior Assessment

"There's a Quasi-Warrior Assessment tomorrow?"

"What a coincidence..."

Lin Fan stood on the busy street, his calm eyes reflecting the scrolling text on the enormous holographic screen.

For the ninety-nine percent of passionate young men in this Base City, those red characters represented a dream—a chance to leap up the social ladder.

They also meant that from then on, they could live in a big villa, marry a beautiful wife, and maybe even become a big shot like "Thor" or "Hong."

Just thinking about it was enough to send any young man's hormones surging.

But at that moment, Lin Fan's mind was far from filled with thoughts of youthful passion.

For him, stripped of all that intangible glory, the assessment came down to two words—

Legal.

It was a ticket to the upper echelons of society, and, more urgently, the only legal way he had to sell off his loot.

With a Warrior's identity, he could access Limit Home's internal network and openly turn the pile of "junk" in his ring into stacks of red bills.

More importantly, Limit Martial Arts Hall had never been stingy with talented people who could "fight and survive."

As long as he demonstrated enough value, he could get the right to live in a villa, a more advanced Guidance Technique, or even one-on-one instruction from a War God Level mentor... To people at the bottom of society, these were luxuries. Within the martial arts hall system, they were just bargaining chips for attracting talent.

"Looks like I'd better get ready. Maybe I'll even run into our City Lord Luo."

Lin Fan's lips curled into a faint smile. He wrapped his clothes tighter and turned, disappearing into the vast night.

Back in his moldy rented apartment, Lin Fan didn't rush to bed. Instead, he began his final "cramming session" before the assessment.

"True Self."

He roused the diligent "worker" in his sea of consciousness and began repeatedly running through the next day's assessment.

Passing wasn't the hard part.

With his physical abilities, bolstered by the Calamity's aftermath, and his Force Application Technique from the Basic Warrior 36 Forms, passing would be as easy as drinking water.

The real challenge was "control."

"Luo Feng should be taking this batch of assessments too."

Lin Fan sat cross-legged on his bed, recalling the timeline from the original story.

"At this point, Luo Feng's punching strength should be around 1,100 kilograms, his speed 28 meters per second, and his nerve response excellent."

"Those are already the numbers of a prodigy."

"If I perform too poorly, I won't get the best contract and they'll dismiss me as an ordinary Warrior. But if I'm too strong—say, I punch with 2,000 kilograms of force..."

Lin Fan shook his head.

"Then I won't be a prodigy. I'll be a monster. They might cut me open for research, or some other faction might set its sights on me. I'd be asking for trouble."

"So I have to act."

"I'll keep my punching strength around 1,500 kilograms and my speed at 35 meters per second. That'll let me edge out Luo Feng and get the higher-ups' full attention, without being so shocking that people start wondering whether a monster beast has possessed me."

"This is what they mean by using fine control to exploit the gap between awesome and unbelievably lucky, and pass myself off as an 'unparalleled genius.'"

The night passed without incident.

The next morning, at Limit Martial Arts Hall in Yi'an District.

The enormous silver-gray building dominated the city center. In the morning light, it gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen, like a crouching steel behemoth.

Lin Fan carried his empty canvas bag and lowered the brim of the five-yuan baseball cap he'd bought, blending in with the crowd of assessment candidates.

Most of the people around him were burly men with thick necks and brutish faces. The air reeked of sweat and cheap tobacco.

Beside them, Lin Fan, in his faded school uniform and with his slight build, looked like a husky that had wandered into a pack of wolves. He stood out like a sore thumb.

But he wasn't the only one who looked like a student.

Near the front of the crowd, he spotted a familiar figure—Luo Feng.

Luo Feng was speaking quietly with a burly man named Yang Wu. He looked both nervous and excited, his youthful energy practically spilling out of him.

Lin Fan looked away, put his hands in his pockets, and quietly took his place at the end of the line, perfectly playing the part of a "nobody."

"The assessment is starting! Everyone, line up and head to the sixth floor of the martial arts hall!"

At the instructor's command, the assessment officially began.

First came the punching-strength test.

One by one, the burly men stepped up and hammered the punching target.

"806 kg! Failed!"

"890 kg! What a shame!"

"910 kg! Passed!"

Some cheered, while others hung their heads. All the ups and downs of life played out before this little testing machine.

Soon, it was Luo Feng's turn.

"Luo Feng, give it your best!" Yang Wu shouted from the side.

"Jiang Nian seems pretty confident," Chief Instructor Wu Tong said with a smile, standing with his hands behind his back as he watched Luo Feng. "I hear you're the one who discovered this kid?"

"Heh, just watch," Instructor Jiang Nian said, unable to hide his pride.

Luo Feng stood before the punching target, took a deep breath, and his gaze sharpened in an instant.

He drove his feet into the ground and turned his body slightly. A powerful torque burst from his hips, flowed through him in a seamless chain, and finally surged into his arm like a flood.

Thud!

His fist left a blur as it slammed into the target.

The target jolted, letting out a dull thump that made everyone's heart skip a beat.

The number on the screen jumped wildly before finally settling.

[1101 kg]

"Good!"

"Not bad!"

Amid the praise, Wu Tong nodded with satisfaction. "Eighteen years old, 1,100 kilograms. He's got real potential. All right, passed!"

Luo Feng's face lit up with joy. After all, this was the result of years of hard training.

"Next, Lin Fan."

At the name, Jiang Nian, who had been celebrating Luo Feng's success, froze for a moment, then looked toward the back of the crowd.

"That student? Looks like this is his first time here, too."

Lin Fan stepped out of the crowd.

As he passed Luo Feng, their eyes met for a moment.

Luo Feng looked at his schoolmate, who was usually a "nobody," with some surprise. Though they didn't know each other well, he nodded amiably and gave him an encouraging look.

Lin Fan nodded slightly and walked calmly up to the punching target.

No one present, not even Chief Instructor Wu Tong, had paid much attention to this slender boy.

After all, with Luo Feng's impressive performance fresh in everyone's mind, they were still savoring the punch he'd just thrown.

Who would notice a student who looked as if a stiff breeze could knock him over?

Lin Fan stood before the target and casually rolled his wrist.

"About 1,500 kilograms... That should be around seventy percent of my strength."

He took a deep breath.

No need to build up power, and no need for any exaggerated shouting.

His toes dug into the ground, and power burst from his heels, shooting up his spine and surging into his right fist.

BOOM!!!

A roar more muffled and more violent than the one from Luo Feng's punch exploded through the training hall!

The entire punching machine shook violently, as if it couldn't withstand the blow.

The Warriors, who had been talking quietly, fell silent at once and turned their heads in unison.

The casual look in Chief Instructor Wu Tong's eyes froze. The teacup he'd just picked up nearly shattered in his grip.

On the screen, the red numbers jumped like mad before finally settling.

[1552 kg]

Dead silence.

The entire hall fell quiet. You could have heard a pin drop.

Luo Feng, standing nearby, stared wide-eyed, his mouth slightly open as he looked at the schoolmate who'd always kept such a low profile.

1,552 kilograms?!

That was a full 450 kilograms more than his own score!

What kind of strength was that?

Had the guy grown up eating explosives?

Instructor Jiang Nian's jaw dropped so far it nearly hit his feet. His eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets.

"Eighteen years old... 1,552 kilograms?"

Wu Tong drew a deep breath. His gaze turned razor-sharp, as if he were trying to see through Lin Fan's body.

"You're Lin Fan? Which martial arts hall did you train at before?"

"Nowhere."

Lin Fan drew back his fist, calmly rubbed his wrist, and spoke as casually as if he were saying, "I just ate two steamed buns."

"I just messed around with some training at home."

"Pfft."

Jiang Nian nearly spat blood.

Messed around?

You call that messing around?

Then what are the rest of us doing, grunting and shouting at the martial arts hall every day? Calisthenics?

"You can mess around and reach 1,500 kilograms?" Wu Tong's mouth twitched uncontrollably, but he couldn't hide his delight. "Good! Very good! That's some messing around! A genius! Now this is a real genius!"

"Go! Test his speed!"

Wu Tong swept his hand forward, his voice rising an octave.

Next came the speed test.

Yang Wu barely passed.

Luo Feng ran an excellent 28.6 meters per second, earning another round of praise, though it was noticeably more subdued than before.

Because everyone was waiting.

Waiting for that "Mr. Messed-Around" to take the track.

It was Lin Fan's turn.

He stood at the starting line, leaning forward slightly, the muscles in his legs taut.

Whoosh!

He shot forward like a streak of black lightning, blurring past the sensors and kicking up a gust of wind that ruffled the recorder's hair.

The screen showed: [35.1 m/s].

Another crushing result!

This time, even Luo Feng couldn't help giving a bitter smile.

He'd thought he was already a genius, but it turned out their class had been hiding a real expert.

The shock had caught him completely off guard.

"This speed... He's already approaching the threshold for an Intermediate Warrior."

Jiang Nian murmured to himself, gazing at Lin Fan like an uncut jade stone. He was practically drooling.

Finally came the nerve response test.

Luo Feng demonstrated excellent footwork during the test. He was hit twenty-eight times within sixty seconds, avoided the red lights, and earned an "Excellent" rating.

"A genius. An absolute genius." Wu Tong thought highly of Luo Feng and nodded again and again.

Then it was Lin Fan's turn.

Lin Fan stepped into the red circle and faced the enormous six-barreled machine gun.

"Begin!"

Rat-tat-tat-tat!

Rubber bullets poured out like a torrential downpour.

With his Spiritual Force, Lin Fan could clearly sense their trajectories, as if watching a slow-motion replay.

To avoid looking too ridiculous, he deliberately made a few dodges that looked clumsy but were actually precise. He even let several bullets skim past his clothes, creating the illusion of narrowly avoiding them.

After all, dodging every single shot would look too fake. If his footwork and strength were both terrifying, he'd stand out too much.

One minute later.

The screen showed: [Hit 20 times within 60 seconds. No contact with red lights. Excellent!]

"Hiss..."

Outside the monitoring room, the Warriors drew in a sharp breath, nearly sucking all the oxygen out of the training hall.

Hit twelve times?

Was he even human? His reaction speed was more than twice as fast as Luo Feng's!

What on earth had this kid been eating?

The assessment was over.

Chief Instructor Wu Tong looked at the two score sheets in his hands. His fingers trembled slightly.

One was Luo Feng's: a textbook example of a perfect genius.

The other was Lin Fan's: such outrageous numbers that he seemed like a monster wearing human skin.

"What day is it today?"

Wu Tong couldn't help marveling. His grin was brighter than a chrysanthemum.

"Two dragons had appeared at once in this little pond of Yi'an District! Now I'll finally make a name for myself at headquarters!"

He raised his head and gazed at the two young men before him, his eyes burning with such fervor it was as if he meant to melt them.

"Luo Feng, Lin Fan."

"Congratulations! Once the official paperwork comes through, you'll be Quasi-Martial Artists!"

Luo Feng clenched his right fist, excitement filling his eyes. "I finally did it!"

Lin Fan merely nodded calmly, but out of the corner of his eye, he keenly caught the glance Jiang Nian and Wu Tong exchanged.

He understood that look.

It was the look of a wolf spotting meat.

"Lin Fan, stay a moment."

Wu Tong suddenly spoke, wearing a warm, fatherly smile, though his tone left no room for argument.

"Come have some tea in my office. About your contract to join the Limit Martial Arts Hall... I think we should discuss it in more detail."

Luo Feng, who hadn't had a chance to leave yet, froze for a moment. A flicker of envy crossed his eyes, but he soon let it go.

The strong deserved special treatment.

Lin Fan straightened his slightly rumpled collar and let a faint, barely perceptible smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

"All right, Instructor."