Chapter 39 - Archival Sequence

The specialized equipment that the Azure Coalition used for integration level testing was called the source energy stress-response device. The name contained the words “stress-response” for a reason.

This device was a single-line connection. The source energy case on the back was left empty, holding no energy core, and with a single metal strip running directly to the heart.

The entire process was automated. It required no operation, nor any active participation from the person being tested.

The first stage pertained to the question of source energy sensitivity and worked as follows: when the subject walked into the source energy field and sensed the source energy, the blue light on the cell would activate.

The source energy field itself was shaped like an air-raid shelter, with several bends built into its interior. The first bend, located roughly thirteen meters from the entrance, was known as the Gazing Corner across generations of researchers.

Typically, when a group of recruits entered the field, the scientists in the control room would watch their receding figures with a collective sense of anticipation.

If those figures rounded the corner without triggering a blue light, the team leads and senior scientists would abandon their observation. They would go make tea, use the restroom, or simply sit back in their chairs with their eyes closed, leaving the remaining monitoring work to the equipment and their subordinates.

It couldn’t be helped. Every testing cycle brought an overwhelming volume of repetitive work. It was hard to stay enthusiastic about ordinary results after seeing so many.

Source energy integration levels were also completely random and had no correlation to physical traits, aptitude, genetics, bloodline, or any other factor, so it wasn’t as though they could identify a promising candidate in advance either.

In plain terms, the Gazing Corner was the dividing line between “exceptional” and “ordinary.”

History had shown that 99.9% of subjects whose blue light failed to activate before passing this corner received an ordinary integration level. The actual historical figure was 100%. The only reason they cited 99.9% was that the scientists felt they didn’t yet understand source energy well enough to claim absolutes.

Could a subject simply refuse to walk past the corner and linger at the entrance? No. The device had a built-in timer and would automatically shut down when time ran out, regardless of whether the subject had moved or stayed near the entrance, where source energy was at its thinnest.

It was with exactly these expectations that the researchers listlessly watched as the testing for this batch neared its end. Until that young man, not a single person had triggered their blue light before the Gazing Corner.

This was normal. It was the everyday reality of the testing process. Regardless of the sample size, the vast majority of subjects’ results clustered around D-rank and E-rank.

The observation room had been watching this new group as usual. Nothing special.

Han Qingyu, like every other recruit, had put on his device outside the entrance, taking a deep breath as he did. In truth, he was tense and uneasy. His palms were sweating, and he worried another “heavy truck” would slam into him.

In the end, he gritted his teeth, lowered his head, and stepped forward with the rest.

He took his first step. The instant his foot touched the ground, the case on his back lit up with blue light. At that point, he still had one foot outside the entrance.

The two officers on-site went blank, while the researchers inside the control room erupted in shock.

Only the last few groups of recruits still waiting outside, not understanding the significance of this, stood around chatting in confusion.

“Oh, look, it lit up.”

“Huh, so it does glow?”

“Why, though? It’s not like it’s dark in there, is it?”

“What nonsense.”

“Exactly. If it were dark, wouldn’t they just install lights?”

“Then what does it mean?”

“Probably means he’s pretty strong.”

***

Silence permeated the control room.

Nobody had uttered another word after the supervisor had cried out for them to “Keep watching!”

Every pair of eyes remained fixed on that single figure.

S-rank? S...

When the regular soldiers and officers of the Azure Coalition discussed source energy integration levels among themselves, they never brought up S-rank. Most had never even heard any reliable information about it. On the rare occasions when a rumor surfaced, the official stance was always the same: neither confirm nor discuss.

It existed, though.

Be it because of population size, or for other reasons still unknown, the Oriental Republic Army Group of the Azure Coalition had only produced a total of nine individuals whose source energy integration exceeded A+ in its eighty-year history.

These were the S-rankers.

Of those nine, five were still alive.

One of the five had had their name and all related information classified as forbidden by the Azure Coalition.

The remaining four were all still in active service.

Two were stationed at a research facility, one had been granted special permission to roam freely, and the last had commanded the Only Witness Legion for over twenty years.

S-rankers were extraordinarily rare. Their scarcity and the secrecy surrounding them meant that the real backbone of the Azure Coalition’s brilliant history was the A-rankers and B-rankers. They left the most stories and legends. Alongside them stood countless members of the Coalition whose integration levels weren’t exceptional, but who had still gone on to accomplish extraordinary feats.

As for those outside the Azure Coalition, setting aside the forbidden name, current intelligence confirmed that the Snow Lotus organization among the Wipers had at least one S-ranker. Specific details regarding their identity, development, and combat strength were unknown.

Whether any S-rankers existed among the Preservers and their affiliated organizations remained unclear, as they had received comparatively less scrutiny.

“In terms of source energy sensitivity alone, including those nine, he’d rank among the top three,” an old scientist with a head of white hair said, breaking the hush of the observation room, staring at the monitor unblinkingly.

Nothing followed.

Among the top three didn’t mean third. It meant that the distinction between the top candidates couldn’t yet be drawn. He could very well be first. If not, the scientist who had reported the reading earlier wouldn’t have used the phrase “above S-rank.”

Han Qingyu, of course, knew nothing of this. He had just taken his fourth step inside the source energy field, the blue light still shining behind him.

Source energy had been flooding into his body since that first step. The process of absorption and integration had already begun.

This source energy wrapped around him gently, pleasantly soaking into his body at a slow rate, unlike the raw metal chunk, which would have been fully absorbed in an instant.

These physical sensations confirmed his suspicions.

It’s as I thought. Refined energy cores aren’t as pure as the raw metal chunks. Thankfully, the speed of absorption isn’t that slow, he thought.

Savoring the absorption, Han Qingyu finally rounded the Gazing Corner and disappeared from the view of those watching from the entrance.

Then, feeling another thump, Han Qingyu stopped. It was happening again.

This time, the heavy truck didn’t slam into him directly, nor did the source energy field collapse or make strange sounds, but Han Qingyu could feel it clearly nonetheless.

It was a massive pressure, like an invisible truck, sitting on the edge of impact, ready to crash into him at any moment.

“Why did he stop?” muttered someone in the control room.

There was no answer. Brief pauses were common enough, and the speaker had only said it out of sheer nervousness.

What’s going on? Han Qingyu stood there, brooding. First it hits me, then it doesn’t, and now it wants to again... What’s the difference?

At the start, I still had some leftover liquid source energy inside me. After the collision, it was all used up. Now I’ve come in here and absorbed more. Is that the problem?

That doesn’t match the officers’ words, though. They clearly said that we don’t have to do anything, and there’s nothing to be afraid of. The source energy will integrate with you on its own.

If the source energy field had any chance of being dangerous, even one in a hundred thousand, they would’ve mentioned it. They definitely would’ve. So this isn’t normal.

The source energy field had provided no answers either. The question of “What exactly am I?” remained unsolved.

After a brief pause and a moment’s thought, Han Qingyu pressed on. If he couldn’t figure it out, he wouldn’t dwell on it.

“He’s moving. Walking forward again,” the voice in the control room said once more, sounding relieved.

At the same time, Han Qingyu had firmly decided, If I can’t absorb it openly, I’ll just have to take as much as I can!

Time was precious and, driven by his hunger for source energy, that bandit streak that Lao Jian had observed surfaced once more.

From the outside, Han Qingyu appeared to be walking calmly, at a steady pace. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, not even to those watching in the control room.

Inwardly, though, he imagined himself snatching eggs from under a vicious goose guarding its nest.

As he walked on, he carefully danced along the razor’s edge of what would trigger the collision, teasing it, stealing all the while.

The blue lights on the other four members of his group also came on roughly past the midpoint.

After a while, Han Qingyu noticed that one of them was crying softly as they walked. Another was laughing. A third was shouting something garbled. None of them seemed aware of each other.

Is this what the guide meant when they said the source energy field would amplify emotions?

Han Qingyu was about to wonder why he wasn’t affected when a dreamlike rush of sound and imagery flooded his mind.

The roar of mountains and seas... I will lead humanity... It is I. I will save the Azure... Countless outstretched arms and upturned faces. I will stand there...

Then, mad laughter.

This isn’t me. All I want is to stay alive. Han Qingyu was certain. This wasn’t his personality, and it was definitely not his amplified emotion.

He added this to the mental list of things he couldn’t explain.

Shaking his head, he composed himself and kept moving. Steal and advance, steal and advance.

By the time he emerged from the source energy field, he was drenched in sweat from head to toe. After he handed his device over, the first thing he did was let loose a long, vicious string of curses inside his head.

***

“This...” In the control room, a staff member from the statistics division held Han Qingyu’s final results, hesitation written across her face.

Source energy sensitivity level: above S-rank.

Source energy integration level: A-rank.

A brief silence settled over the room.

“I’ve checked the historical data. This has never happened before.” A scientist glanced at the supervisor, then added with some hesitation, “Should we... have him retested?”

There were no rules regarding retesting for integration level, nor would a retest change anything. That was common knowledge.

“His case is different, though.” Another scientist stepped forward as if advocating on Han Qingyu’s behalf, pointing at the data sheet in his hand. “His absorption rate fluctuated wildly throughout the process. If we go by the rate at the very beginning, his integration level would definitely be S-rank.”

“Exactly. We also have to consider that the source energy field had just crashed and been restarted,” another voice chimed in.

Perhaps this was because they all yearned desperately for him to be that tenth S-ranker. That longing had caused them to fluctuate between hope and disappointment for many years now.

Even the supervisor wavered.

“Alright. You all keep working... Let me make a phone call,” he finally said, leaving with the results sheet.

The call had to be routed through a request-and-transfer process. Before long, a voice came through on the other end. It was slightly aged, yet warm, like a kindly grandfather from an ordinary family.

“Hello.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour.”

“It’s fine. I work nights.”

“Oh, alright. Hello, sir. I’m calling from the source energy testing site.” The supervisor’s voice carried a note of tension and deference. “I’m calling because we’ve encountered an unusual situation...”

He then provided the most detailed account of Han Qingyu’s case that his knowledge allowed.

In terms of organizational structure, every member of the Only Witness Legion was under the command of the man on the other end of the phone. Consulting him and letting him decide was not only necessary but also a way for the supervisor to absolve himself of any future responsibility.

After a brief silence, the voice on the other end said, calm as ever, “We still don’t understand source energy well enough, nor everything connected to it. So, no retest. This result stands.”

That meant the official record would list an A-rank integration level. The sensitivity reading would not be published.

“Understood.” The supervisor paused briefly. “Then, regarding his archival tier...”

Under normal circumstances, this question wouldn’t need to be asked. The general rule over the past decades was that A-rankers went into the second tier.

After another brief silence, the voice said, “Prospective tier.”

The old man’s voice seemed perpetually calm, his words never hurried, though with a decisiveness that left no room for hesitation or ambiguity.

“Understood.”

The prospective tier. A two-year observation period.

The supervisor briefly recalled what he knew about this special classification. If he remembered correctly, it included the prodigy who’d come out of the Refusers last year, a linguist, and someone they called “the Blacksmith.”

Meanwhile, in the legion commander’s office at the Only Witness Legion’s headquarters, a gaunt old man set down the phone, tilted his head in thought, then smiled.

He rummaged through the pile of documents on his desk and pulled out a single file. It was a commendation report that had arrived just the previous evening.

Apparently, the medal’s classification required his signature.

He had already read it once when it first arrived. It was perfectly reasonable, with no issues whatsoever, and he should have signed it right then and there.

The only problem was that signing it meant a few more energy cores would have to be issued every year. The very thought of that made the old man hesitate to even pick up his pen.

So, he’d put it aside, planning to wait until he was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open, then grit his teeth, close his eyes, and sign it right before falling asleep.

Picking up the commendation report and the attached personnel file, he read through them again. Though he still felt a pang of reluctance, he uncapped his pen anyway. Then, head bowed, stroke by careful stroke, he signed his name: Chen Bu’e.

This was a very plain and traditional name. [1] A neat signature, one could say, though certainly not elegant.

***

When Han Qingyu returned to the camp, Regiment Commander Li and the regiment lead advisor were nowhere to be found.

Wen Jifei wasn’t in the tent either.

1. Chen Bu’e (陈不饿) translates to Never-Hungry Chen. In the olden days, people often named their children on-the-nose names that literally translated to Earn Money or Always Healthy in hopes that their children would live up to their names. ☜