Chapter Thirteen: The Arrival of the Gifted

Early the next morning, in the fourth sector.

“You’re joining next month’s Ability User Selection?!” Hu Xian’s face was filled with disbelief, his mouth open wide enough to fit a lightbulb.

Ji Cheng nodded. “Yes, I’ll be entering the Ability User Selection on September first.”

“But isn’t ninety percent assimilation with the original body required for the selection? Don’t tell me, don’t tell me you—” Hu Xian’s voice grew softer and softer, until only the sound of his own pounding heart remained.

“That’s right, I’ve reached ninety percent,” Ji Cheng replied. In fact, he had already reached one hundred percent.

He left that part unsaid, fearing to further wound Hu Xian’s fragile self-esteem.

Luo Rao, sitting nearby, was feeding blood to her pet leech, which had gone hungry for days. Hearing the conversation, she glanced up, then happily continued bleeding herself for the creature, scooting a little closer to Ji Cheng.

She wasn’t particularly surprised. In her mind, there was nothing Ji Cheng couldn’t do.

“This, I, but, boss, you…” Hu Xian stammered, torn between delight for Ji Cheng and the shock that threatened to overwhelm him.

The world was absurd. How many days since the last test? And yet, Ji Cheng had so easily broken through the barrier that trapped countless others—the infamous ninety percent threshold.

Hu Xian drew a deep breath. “Boss, since you’ve been training hard these past few days, I’ll come for the stuff later.”

As they say, comparisons are odious. Hu Xian considered himself a bit of a genius—twenty-six years old with an assimilation rate in the eighties. Wherever he went, people gave him a thumbs up. But Ji Cheng’s breakthrough made him feel like he was nothing more than a leftover scrap.

Ji Cheng patted the box beside him, drawing Hu Xian’s attention. “It’s already done. The central nervous direct-link system is installed.”

At that, Hu Xian’s battered pride was swept away, replaced with eager anticipation. “Boss, is this central nervous direct-link system really as miraculous as you say?”

The system was originally an idea of the previous body’s owner, attempting to use artificial neurons to boost reaction speed. But Ji Cheng knew full well that such technology was beyond his current capabilities.

“I managed to create artificial nerves, but the subsequent work is too difficult. I made some modifications—it doesn’t directly increase your neural reflex speed.”

“Huh? So there’s no way to cheat?” Hu Xian’s mood swung wildly.

Ji Cheng’s original intention in designing the central nervous direct-link system was precisely to cheat—so that during the original body assimilation test, he could display reaction speeds far beyond his actual level.

Nonetheless—

Though the technology was currently unfeasible, Ji Cheng, as a transmigrator, was well-versed in the insane cheating methods used in playing alternate accounts.

He unlocked the box and took out the mechanical spine. “You’ll understand once you put it on.”

“It’s even more refined than the last one,” Hu Xian observed admiringly.

The mechanical spine shimmered with silvery metal, lined with numerous contact points on either side, visibly high-tech.

Ji Cheng circled behind Hu Xian with the device. “Lift your shirt.”

As soon as Hu Xian lifted his shirt, he felt a coolness at his tailbone.

He twisted around and saw the mechanical spine affixing itself to his back from the lower end, the contact points gripping tightly with suction.

“It might hurt a little,” Ji Cheng warned, pressing a button. Each contact point extended an artificial nerve, connecting to Hu Xian’s spinal nerve center.

“Is it done?” Hu Xian looked a bit nervous. “I don’t feel like my reaction speed is any faster.”

Ji Cheng explained, “Humans react to external stimuli by first receiving signals, which are transmitted by the spine to the brain, and then the brain sends commands to the body.”

Hu Xian replied proudly, “I know that—I took biology as an elective.”

Ji Cheng placed a miniature controller on the table. “Many innate reflexes are handled by the neural centers in the spine. That way, the brain is bypassed and the reflex arc is shorter.”

Luo Rao leaned in to interject, “But as far as I recall, innate reflexes only include things like blinking and the knee-jerk reflex—those are limited. No matter how fast, they can’t improve neural reflex speed test results, right?”

“But I have a method.” Ji Cheng tapped his forehead with a knuckle.

Hu Xian made a sound of understanding, then asked, “How does it work?”

Ji Cheng shrugged. “The artificial nerves I added can’t directly enhance your reflex speed, but I compiled a lot of common combat scenarios and coded corresponding fighting maneuvers into the artificial nerves’ reflex logic.”

“In these combat situations, your actions bypass the brain’s reflex arc. The artificial nerves will issue commands to your body as soon as visual signals pass through your spine.”

Hu Xian nodded. “I don’t really get it, but it sounds impressive.”

Ji Cheng twisted a dial on the controller, and Hu Xian convulsed and twitched.

“To avoid accidental activation, the reflex enhancement mode switch is on this controller.”

The current faded, Hu Xian stopped trembling, panting for breath. “Is it working? I don’t notice any changes, except for a bit of numbness on my back.”

“Like this,” Ji Cheng said, bringing down a karate chop from the side.

Hu Xian instantly raised his left arm to block the blow, while his right fist punched out powerfully.

Ji Cheng stepped back, letting Hu Xian’s punch miss its mark.

Hu Xian stood dumbfounded. “What just happened?”

Ji Cheng smiled. “Exactly what you saw.”

Ji Cheng had attacked, Hu Xian’s eyes perceived it, but before his brain could react, the artificial nerves in the mechanical spine had already issued orders, triggering the block and counterattack.

Hu Xian exclaimed, “This is amazing!”

“But I must warn you,” Ji Cheng cautioned, seeing Hu Xian’s delight, “these artificial nerves only work for the combat scenarios I’ve programmed. They’ll get you through the test, but in actual combat, the limitations are significant.”

Hu Xian nodded enthusiastically. “Doesn’t matter—so long as it gets me through the test!”

Beep—beep—

Suddenly, a horn sounded outside.

Who could it be? No one in this slum could afford a car. Ji Cheng was puzzled, but didn’t bother to check.

As the horn blared louder, Ji Cheng realized the car might be looking for him.

He’d been on television just days ago, making a splash—someone coming to interview him wasn’t so strange.

Outside, a luxurious car with no license plate, escorted by several police vehicles, slowly entered the alley of the sector.

The doors of the fourth sector opened wide, countless curious faces peering out, all eyes fixed on the car that was clearly not for ordinary folk.

This place was little more than a slum—sunlight barely reached it all year, birds avoided it, let alone a convoy escorted by police.

Everyone wanted to know whose ancestors had blessed them enough to attract such a distinguished guest.

The convoy finally stopped at the entrance of unit 141. From the central luxury car emerged a man in a tailored trench coat.

The coat’s lapel was trimmed with metallic thread, outlining the image of a circular blade—the insignia of the Southport City-State.

“That outfit… Only Ability Users wear that. Could he be an Ability User?”

“If he’s not, he’d be courting death by wearing it.”

“I think I saw him on TV a few days ago.”

“Yes, that’s why he looks familiar.”

“This household actually has connections with an Ability User? Unbelievable.”

Ability User? Ji Cheng was about to open the door when he heard the neighbors discussing outside. Why would an Ability User come to him? Was it the proctor from the other day?

Ji Cheng opened the door to find the black-clad man from the exam standing outside, now dressed differently.

“Lu Shangbai,” Lu Shangbai introduced himself. He’d come on official business today, so his demeanor was friendlier, and he’d donned the Ability User uniform to show respect.

Ji Cheng invited him inside. After sitting down, Ji Cheng asked calmly, “Sir Lu, what brings you here?”

“It’s like this,” Lu Shangbai began, choosing his words carefully. “The defense matrix you cracked the other day was quite significant. Also, we learned your original body assimilation rate is… very high. Because of this, we’ve decided to grant you a wonderful reward.”

A wonderful reward? Why not give me that spaceship, Ji Cheng thought, but asked aloud, “What kind of reward?”

Lu Shangbai raised a finger mysteriously. “It’s related to some secrets of Southport. I can’t tell you just yet, but trust me—it’s excellent.”

Ji Cheng was momentarily stunned, glancing at Hu Xian. Lu Shangbai’s wording was almost identical to Hu Xian’s earlier, making it hard not to draw parallels.

Hu Xian shook his head blankly.

Seeing this, Ji Cheng formed a guess and replied to Lu Shangbai, “So, I need to do something in return, correct?”

Lu Shangbai nodded slightly. “Indeed. On behalf of Southport New City, I officially invite you to attend an evaluation at the Parliament Building.”

The Parliament Building… The political heart of Southport—not a place ordinary people could enter.

Ji Cheng raised an eyebrow. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Lu Shangbai replied firmly.

So, there was no avoiding it today. For some reason, Ji Cheng felt a guilty conscience, as if he were a thief. Perhaps the original owner had done too many shady things?

Ji Cheng sighed and resigned himself to following Lu Shangbai outside. The convoy waited quietly by the door. Lu Shangbai gestured to the unmarked luxury car, inviting Ji Cheng to get in.

“Are you going to dissect A-Cheng for research?” Luo Rao asked suddenly from the doorway.

Lu Shangbai’s expression froze. “We’re perfectly legitimate, you know.”

“Legitimate? That’s no fun.”

Ji Cheng and Lu Shangbai exchanged glances.

Lu Shangbai pointed to his head. “Your sister… Is she alright in the head?”

“Other than being a bit abnormal, everything else is normal.”

Lu Shangbai: “…”