Chapter 10: Entry Assessment (Part One)

District Ten, on the outskirts of Baihui City, just past noon.

Due to their earlier sparring, some time had been delayed. Xia Yan and Lan Xin had not yet arrived, but the other four were already there.

First among them was the team leader, Feng Qiang, a man in his forties who appeared sturdy and amiable, his features steadfast and reliable.

Beside Feng Qiang stood a tall, gaunt man with eyes sharp as blades, his whole demeanor exuding a sinister edge.

A little further off was a slightly overweight man, busily munching on a bag of chips, his small eyes making him appear quite unremarkable; he hardly looked like someone with much combat prowess.

Lastly, there was a woman in her mid to late twenties, strikingly attractive, possessing the refined beauty of an intellectual.

“Captain, I just don’t get it,” the tall, thin man complained. “We’re the Guardians’ squad, not a nursery. I was against Lan Xin joining before, and now we’ve got someone else?”

“That’s right!” The overweight man nodded in agreement. “What use are these kids? They have no experience, barely scrape by in terms of ability, and all they do is drag us down. Lan Xin is a special case—at least she’s pretty—but this new guy is a boy. I’m against him joining, no matter what.”

“No need to think it over. No matter this newcomer’s ability, I won’t accept him into the team,” the tall man asserted.

Though Xia Yan had yet to arrive, two votes against him had already been cast. In other words, unless both Captain Feng Qiang and the intellectual beauty approved, Xia Yan was destined for rejection.

“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Feng Qiang admitted with a bitter smile. “Apparently, he’s even younger than Lan Xin. Even if he meets the minimum requirements, he’ll lack the necessary experience. We already have Lan Xin; there’s no way we can take on another kid.”

Unquestionably, Feng Qiang shared their stance—bringing Lan Xin on board was already their limit.

Meanwhile, the intellectual beauty refrained from giving an opinion, her attitude seemingly reserved.

Given this, Xia Yan’s joining the squad was virtually impossible. Of the five members in Squad Three, three had already rejected him, leaving him officially ineligible according to regulations.

“I should remind you all,” the tall man added sourly, “I’ve heard that this newcomer hasn’t even reached thirty percent neural development. It’s questionable if he’s even human.”

“What? Not even thirty percent? And he’s eligible to join the Guardians?” the overweight man fumed.

“How are we supposed to trust him?” Feng Qiang found the higher-ups’ decision incomprehensible.

“Is this a joke? Do the higher-ups take us for babysitters?” Even the intellectual beauty’s patience wore thin.

A newcomer whose neural development hadn’t even reached thirty percent—what right had he to become a Guardian? His very humanity was in question.

Allowing someone like that onto the team was a farce, a recipe for disaster.

Why even bother with a pointless test? They might as well send him away on the spot, without meeting him.

Still, they all knew the assessment was a mere formality, conducted only to comply with orders from above.

“They’re here,” Lan Xin noted, spotting the others ahead. She quietly told Xia Yan, “I haven’t revealed my full augmentation to them, nor do they know my true ability. Please don’t mention it.”

“I understand.”

Xia Yan’s expression shifted subtly; he hadn’t expected Lan Xin to guard her secrets even from her own teammates.

But perhaps it was only natural. Lan Xin agreed with what Xia Yan had once said: she never trusted anyone, not even her fellow humans. Perhaps, she didn’t even trust Xia Yan—he was simply less untrustworthy than the others. That was just how she was. Perhaps she was overly cautious, or perhaps, she was right to be.

“Captain, we’re here,” Lan Xin announced coldly, her customary demeanor.

Feng Qiang stepped forward. “Welcome, newcomer Xia Yan. Let me introduce the squad.”

“First, I’m Feng Qiang, captain of Squad Three,” he said with a hearty smile.

He gestured to the tall, thin man. “This is He Changlou.”

Next, he pointed to the overweight man. “Ma Wu.”

Lastly, he looked to the intellectual beauty. “Qing Xia.”

Xia Yan nodded and greeted each in turn, but their responses were mostly cold and perfunctory—only Qing Xia offered him a smile and a few extra words.

Lan Xin immediately sensed something was wrong. Feng Qiang’s introductions included only names—no information about their abilities, specialties, or roles. Were they close combatants, scouts, or support? Nothing.

Clearly, they were excluding Xia Yan from the outset, with no intention of allowing him to pass the test.

Previously, Gong Kui had warned that three of these four had issues, but neither Lan Xin nor Xia Yan could discern who. Perhaps that was Gong Kui’s intent—if Xia Yan were forewarned, it would no longer be a true life-or-death trial, no longer a razor’s edge of survival. Without that, reaching thirty percent neural development would remain an elusive dream.

“Our mission this time is to eliminate a Level 4 mutant. Along the way, we’ll likely be attacked by quite a few Level 3 mutants,” Captain Feng Qiang explained. “Xia Yan, we’ll be observing you to see if you’re fit to join our squad.”

Despite his words, everyone knew this was merely going through the motions.

“All right,” Xia Yan replied.

As they moved out, Xia Yan inquired about the Guardians.

First, regarding the number of squad members in District Nine: roughly one hundred and twenty, with each race contributing about twenty members, and each race having four to five squads.

As for their duties, Guardians were responsible for maintaining the district’s safety, eliminating high-level mutants, and handling emergency tasks.

To qualify as a Guardian squad member, one’s minimum strength had to be among the institution’s top three. At the same time, there was an upper limit: neural development should not surpass fifty percent.

The Earth Federation never issued missions to hunt Level 5 mutants and thus didn’t require Guardians with neural development beyond fifty percent. Level 5 mutants did exist, but they wouldn’t fight the six major races.

Once a mutant reached Level 5, it gained intelligence and could take human form. According to certain treaties, mutants at that level counted as a distinct power, similar to the six major races, though with some differences.

“There’s a Level 3 mutant ahead,” Ma Wu announced, halting.

“Oh?” He Changlou narrowed his eyes, a malicious smirk on his lips. “Why don’t we let the newcomer have a go?”

“No problem,” Xia Yan answered immediately.

“It’s a five-colored brute boar—a mutant known for its strength,” Ma Wu added at the critical moment. Though he disliked Xia Yan, he didn’t want the boy to lose his life.

After all, Xia Yan’s neural development hadn’t even reached thirty percent. By rights, he shouldn’t have made the institution’s top three. How could someone so weak possibly defeat a Level 3 mutant?

No one but Lan Xin expected Xia Yan to prevail; they all believed he would lose to the brute boar, or at best, barely survive.

If he did kill the brute boar, he’d likely end up crippled himself.

What right did such a child have to be a Guardian? The very idea was laughable.

Feng Qiang stood ready behind Xia Yan, prepared to intervene at a moment’s notice. After all, these were orders from above, and he had no wish to see the newcomer die and tarnish the squad’s reputation.

Lan Xin alone paid no attention to the fight—she knew Xia Yan’s strength better than anyone.

“Don’t worry about me,” Xia Yan assured her, gripping his Versatile Blade as he strode forward.

The five-colored brute boar wasn’t especially large—about the size of an ordinary domesticated pig, its hide dark and its body robust, with no excess fat.

The brute boar charged, but Xia Yan remained calm, barely moving. He seemed an outsider, simply watching the mutant.

The others snickered quietly, thinking Xia Yan must be terrified at the sight of a Level 3 mutant, paralyzed with fear like any inexperienced child.

At that moment, Xia Yan shifted his footing, dodging the brute boar’s charge with the slightest of movements—his body nearly brushing the boar’s side.

“What—!” Feng Qiang’s expression changed dramatically. Was this a fluke, or was it deliberate?

“Impossible,” He Changlou nearly cried out. He couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. This teenager, whose neural development hadn’t even reached thirty percent, had effortlessly evaded the brute boar’s charge—as if he were strolling through his own garden.

“Just lucky,” Ma Wu, a psychic by ability, muttered. The boy’s skill was unimpressive, but he seemed to have good fortune. Still, luck wouldn’t save him in a tight spot.

Qing Xia’s expression shifted subtly, but she remained more composed than the others.

The brute boar roared and charged again.

This time, the others were certain Xia Yan would fail to dodge. Feng Qiang was ready to intervene, though he doubted he’d be fast enough. He hoped there would be no serious injuries.

Xia Yan’s movements were once again slow and subtle, yet he dodged the brute boar’s attack with ease.

“My god,” Feng Qiang finally realized this was no coincidence—no one could be lucky twice in a row.

“Martial footwork from an ancient style?” He Changlou exclaimed. Such techniques weren’t something just anyone could master. Was this boy, like Lan Xin, a disciple of ancient martial arts?

Ma Wu was too shocked to speak. They had all looked down on this boy, fearing he would be killed outright. In fact, he was far from weak.

The brute boar charged a third time. By now, no one was surprised by Xia Yan’s evasions; they all expected him to slip aside once more.

And so he did. But this time, the fight ended.

“Charged Slash!” Having studied the boar’s movements over three attacks, Xia Yan drew his blade with a flash of light, his figure crossing past the mutant in an instant. The blade struck, and the brute boar’s head tumbled to the ground at his feet.

Charged Slash was, in essence, similar to Lan Xin’s Energy Slash—an internal technique harnessing precise control of bones and meridians to generate maximum power. Xia Yan’s foundation was not as solid as Lan Xin’s; it took him at least two seconds to execute, and he couldn’t bring out its full strength. Thus, he named it Charged Slash—the “charge” referring to the two seconds of preparation.

Yet the strike landed perfectly. The five-colored brute boar was slain instantly, its head rolling to Xia Yan’s feet.

The four behind him gaped in astonishment.

A one-hit kill—Xia Yan, not yet seventeen years old.

Was this the strength of a newcomer? It was simply beyond belief.

“One strike?” He Changlou murmured. His own strength was considerable, but he had never mastered internal techniques or ancient martial footwork; he could not have slain the brute boar in a single blow.

“This kid—another Miss Lan Xin,” Ma Wu exclaimed. Geniuses like Lan Xin were rare; even in all of District Nine, a second might not be found. Yet here one stood—a boy even younger than Lan Xin by a year. It was truly astonishing.

“Wait—” The source of Feng Qiang’s astonishment was not just Xia Yan’s strength, but his method.

Had he used any supernatural ability?

It seemed not.

In other words, relying solely on physical prowess and martial technique, he had slain the five-colored brute boar with a single strike.

It was simply unbelievable—Feng Qiang could not comprehend what he had just witnessed.