Chapter Two: The First Condition

Fuxiang City, Ability Development Agency, Main Complex, in the office where Gong Kui was stationed.

When Gong Kui received the call, it was from an unfamiliar number. Given the character of the lady in question, it was truly rare for her to reach out first.

“Hello, Miss Lanxin,” Gong Kui greeted her.

“This person is very strange,” Lanxin said, getting straight to the point. “His physical development is so advanced, yet his brain development hasn’t even reached thirty percent!”

Gong Kui offered a wry smile. “Miss Lanxin, he is a special case. At present, both his brain development and physical development are at exactly 22.3 percent.”

“Why would such an anomalous individual exist…” Lanxin could not understand. “It makes no sense for his brain development to be so low, yet his physical development so high.”

“Human mutation cannot be explained by common sense,” Gong Kui replied. “So, what is your opinion?”

“I cannot bring myself to trust any species other than humans,” Lanxin answered. “But his counterargument did make me think.”

“What do you mean?” Gong Kui asked, curious.

“Humans are also capable of betrayal,” Lanxin said. “In my experience, betrayal among humans is not rare, but all too common.”

Lanxin had never believed in anyone, and it was precisely because of Xia Yan’s words—humans, too, can betray.

“So, what have you decided?” Gong Kui inquired.

“I’ll observe for a while, but don’t get your hopes up,” Lanxin replied. “Even if I come to accept him, the rest of the team may not. After all, he doesn’t even have a confirmed identity.”

“At the very least, Xia Yan is an exception. I still believe he can work miracles,” Gong Kui said earnestly. “His future will light up the stars. He will become one of humanity’s top fighters, a force indispensable to us.”

“Let’s see if he can survive a year first,” Lanxin scoffed.

Xia Yan was an extremely unique human. His physical development was on par with his brain development, making him far more adept at close combat than at ranged engagement.

The reason Gong Kui had arranged for Xia Yan to meet Lanxin was singular—to gain ancient martial arts techniques for close-quarters combat.

These ancient martial arts formed the foundation for enhancing one’s close-combat ability, and Xia Yan’s combat skills were rather mediocre—an absolute amateur.

Lanxin, on the other hand, was the sole heir to the Qianzong School among the ancient martial arts sects. If Xia Yan could learn the Qianzong School’s techniques, his strength would increase significantly.

From what Gong Kui knew, the Qianzong School’s techniques were not only the most formidable but also the fastest to master—not just in District Nine, but perhaps across the entire Earth Federation, no other school could rival them.

Of the three conditions Xia Yan needed to fulfill, this was one—the one Gong Kui believed to be the hardest. Of course, the other two were also nearly impossible, leaving almost no hope.

If Tang Yun could be considered a first-rate expert, then Lanxin was a top-tier master. This meant that within a year, Xia Yan would need to surpass Tang Yun and master ancient martial arts techniques superior to those of a first-rate fighter.

But this premise depended on Xia Yan becoming the Qianzong School’s successor—a chance so slim as to be almost nonexistent, for no other school could offer the same.

In the past twenty years, Lanxin had been the only successor of the entire Qianzong School.

Even after becoming a successor, one had to hone their skills to surpass Tang Yun within a year—that was the condition to be met.

Tang Yun had been training in ancient martial arts from childhood, more than a decade of experience. Xia Yan had to surpass him in just one year!

Was this difficult?

It was nigh impossible, a challenge as hard as reaching the heavens. Yet if he failed, he would surely die.

This was why Gong Kui had arranged for Xia Yan and Lanxin to meet!

“Miss Lanxin,” Gong Kui suddenly asked, “if he manages to pass your test, could he possibly learn the techniques of your school?”

“Passing my test does not mean becoming a successor,” Lanxin replied without any room for negotiation. “Miss Gong Kui, I’m only giving him extra time as a courtesy to you. But if he wishes to learn the Qianzong School’s techniques, that is absolutely out of the question!”

“No matter what, there’s still a sliver of hope!” Gong Kui said, her voice heavy with sorrow. “His future will be harsh. To confront the Demonic Race, it’s not enough to be on par with former director Ai You—he must be absolutely certain of victory. This path is treacherous, hope is an illusion, and without becoming the Qianzong School’s successor, he is doomed to die.”

Gong Kui understood well that even if Xia Yan fulfilled all three conditions, his chances of survival would still be less than thirty percent. This was the Demonic Race—they would all see Xia Yan as an enemy. Even if he won, could he truly survive?

It was a road as difficult as climbing to the sky, virtually a dead end.

“That’s not my concern,” Lanxin said coldly. “In any case, for the upcoming mission to hunt a level-three mutant, I’ll be acting with him—just this once.”

With that, Lanxin hung up.

“Miss Lanxin is extremely cold. Normally, she would never agree to help Xia Yan,” Gong Kui muttered in distress. “Even if I consider all possibilities, the chance of success is less than one percent.”

“But if Xia Yan were to die because he lost this opportunity, it would be a terrible waste.” Gong Kui sighed softly. “People say I am the most rational, but being rational also means being heartless. Does that make me selfish?”

“Xia Yan, if I were in your place, I’d choose the hardest path.” Gong Kui pitied him. “Whether you die now or one year from now makes no difference. Give it your all—this is your only hope of survival.”

It seemed she had made up her mind!

…

Two days later.

Xia Yan walked among the crowds on the street, blending in with ordinary citizens, appearing no different from anyone else. After choosing to leave the organization, he no longer had any ties to his past.

He was waiting for his chance to become stronger.

“A message!” Xia Yan activated his neural interface, accepting the call—it was Gong Kui.

“Xia Yan, there’s a mission,” Gong Kui said. “It’s a hunt for a level-three mutant. You and Miss Lanxin will undertake it. This will be your one and only chance with her.”

“So it’s finally here,” Xia Yan nodded.

A level-three mutant possessed strength comparable to some of the lower-ranked members of the agency’s management. Such tasks were extremely dangerous for regular agents.

Even the likes of Mei Mi, Dongfang Hui, and Tang Yun—the top-ranked experts—would find it risky to face a level-three mutant. They might be able to defeat it, but escaping unscathed was nearly impossible.

Therefore, such missions were not given to ordinary agents, but to the Guardians.

“The location isn’t here in our Number Twelve Fuxiang City, but in Number Eleven Quning City. Take an aircraft there quickly and rendezvous with Miss Lanxin. I’ll send her coordinates to your neural interface,” Gong Kui instructed.

“Understood,” Xia Yan replied, immediately heading toward the agency.

After more than three hours, Xia Yan finally arrived at his destination—it was already one in the afternoon.

But just as he landed—

“Xia Yan, Lanxin…” Gong Kui’s voice came through. “I’ve just received intelligence related to the mission—there are two agents from Quning City here, apparently on a mission to eliminate a level-two mutant.”

Her expression darkened; perhaps this was part of her plan as well.

“What should we do?” Lanxin joined the call, asking Gong Kui.

“That’s for you to decide…” Gong Kui frowned. “You can prioritize the mission and eliminate the level-three mutant, or you can try to find these two and ensure their safety.”

Lanxin looked at Xia Yan, as if waiting for his answer.

“We’ll find the agents first,” Xia Yan replied without hesitation.

“I agree with that,” Lanxin nodded.

…

A young man and woman walked through the barren wilderness. The land here was utterly devoid of life, as if scorched by wildfire, the ground bare and unsettling.

“It’s only a level-two mutant—should be an easy job for us,” the green-haired youth, Li Quan, said proudly.

“Right. We stand a chance of entering the top thirty ranks of the agency,” the red-clad girl, Liao Qing, agreed.

“In a few more years, if we keep working hard, we might join the management. When we graduate, we’ll be entrusted with important tasks,” Li Quan said, his eyes full of ambition.

“Yes, it’s possible,” Liao Qing smiled.

“I’ve heard even the management members can defeat level-three mutants. That’s incredible,” Li Quan sighed with admiration. “A level-three mutant is terrifying—beating one would require almost thirty percent brain development, and a very strong ability!”

“We still have a long way to go,” Liao Qing replied modestly.

The two made their way toward their target. They had parked their aircraft some distance away in the wilderness, to avoid it being damaged by mutants.

They had handled similar tasks many times, so they weren’t too worried. A level-two mutant was well within their abilities. Even if something went wrong, they could look out for each other.

“Wait, look ahead…” Liao Qing suddenly froze, panic flashing in her eyes.

“What is it?” Li Quan sensed something was wrong and looked ahead. There was a gigantic mutant.

It stood nearly ten meters tall, as imposing as a small mountain—a mutated bear with steel-like scales on its back and two monstrous fangs protruding from its mouth.

Both Li Quan and Liao Qing felt utter despair.

A level-three mutant—Ironback Azure Bear.

This mutant was often mentioned in training because its back scales were made of extremely tough and valuable material. Though they had never seen one in person, they knew it well by reputation.

“Damn it, a level-three mutant!” Li Quan was about to lose his mind.

“I thought there weren’t supposed to be any above level three in District Nine…” Liao Qing was filled with hopelessness.

There was no way they could outrun a level-three mutant, whose physical prowess far outstripped their own. In terms of combat, such a creature could even challenge the agency’s management—they were hopelessly outmatched.

Worse still, the Ironback Azure Bear was among the stronger level-three mutants.

“Run! Run now!” Li Quan gritted his teeth.

“Run…” Liao Qing also turned and fled in the opposite direction.

But the more they ran, the more hopeless it seemed. The Ironback Azure Bear was simply too fast, the gap closing visibly with every moment.

Soon—very soon—they would be caught, torn to pieces by the bear.

“It’s over… it’s over… only a meter left…” Liao Qing didn’t dare look back, but her instincts screamed at her—the ground was shaking as if in an earthquake…

Just then, she saw a ray of hope ahead.

Or rather, a figure like the morning sun, with a long blade in hand.