"Let's see how far you get this time, Connor," Ethan continued, his voice dripping with condescension. "Maybe you'll actually finish something for once."
///
Connor stood before the reaction speed testing machine, a sleek, futuristic device equipped to launch non-lethal projectiles. He simply ignored Ethan. His time for revenge will come later. Whether in-game or real life, Connor will have it. Back to the topic at hand: the first test was simple: catch or dodge 10 projectiles midair.
The representatives from various corporations had set a standard of 125 milliseconds as the minimum reaction standard. If a person hasn't developed their reaction speed to that level, then they can forget about joining the top corporations and gaming franchises.
Anyone who could meet or exceed this would be seen as clearly more talented than their peers.
The testing agent, a stern-looking man with a digital clipboard, adjusted the settings and turned to Connor. "Ready?"
Connor nodded, his golden eyes focused. The machine whirred to life, and three small, rubber bullets shot out. In an instant, Connor's world slowed. His enhanced senses, a result of his merged souls, kicked in, and his hands moved with fluid precision. He caught each projectile effortlessly.
"Increase to 20 projectiles," the agent commanded, his curiosity piqued.
The machine hummed louder, releasing twenty rubber bullets projectiles simultaneously at varying heights and angles. Time seemed to crawl for Connor. His hands blurred as he snatched as many projectiles midair as he could with unflawed accuracy.
The testing agent's jaw dropped as he looked at the data. "Ninety milliseconds… This is… unbelievable!"
A wave of disbelief and excitement rippled through the crowd.
"A Heavenly Gifted student among us?" one teacher whispered.
"How did we not know?" another gasped.
Even the representatives from major and minor corporations exchanged astonished glances.
"With just his reaction time alone, he could easily join a Regional Guild," one rep remarked.
"He could be part of the core echelon of whatever Minor Guild he joins," another agreed, taking rapid notes.
The headmaster, a tall, authoritative figure with sharp eyes, stepped forward. "I will personally oversee the next tests."
Connor moved to the punching speed machine. The requirement to join major corporations was three punches per second. He stood before the machine, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. After a moment of stillness, he burst into motion.
Within three deciseconds, Connor had landed two punches. By the end of one second, he had delivered six punches and was mid punch on the seventh when the timer stopped. The hall erupted in gasps and disbelief.
"Unbelievable!" someone shouted.
"This guy's a monster!" another voice echoed.
Students took out their devices, posting pictures and recordings online. Social media buzzed with excitement, praising their classmate.
Representatives made frantic phone calls, eager to see what their respective factions could offer Connor.
Meanwhile, Ethan, the student who had taunted Connor earlier, stood seething. He'd just been surpassed by someone who he thought was a minor character of average talent.
His face flushed with anger as he sneered at Connor. "What's the point in being strong in theoretical strengths if you have weak cognitive strength? Let's see how you do in the next test."
Connor sat in a high-tech chair, feeling the cool touch of electrodes being attached to his temples. The headmaster, a stern figure with graying hair and a sharp gaze, connected the final wires. The hum of the machine grew louder, filling the room with a tense energy.
"Ready?" the headmaster asked.
Connor nodded, closing his eyes as the machine activated. Instantly, he felt a pull, drawing him into a deep, surreal dream. In this dream, he was in a vast, empty area, his surroundings shifting and morphing.
The scene shifts to that of Connor metaphorically holding water. He felt the water building and getting heavier, a signal from the machine testing his cognitive limits.
The pressure increased steadily, but Connor's expression remained calm. His breathing was controlled, his body relaxed.
Everyone outside the dream watched in silence, the tension palpable. The machine operators glanced at each other, noting the absent reaction from Connor.
"Increase the signal," one headmaster says to a control tech.
They continued to ramp up the pressure, but Connor didn't flinch. It wasn't until they reached the Half-Step Processor Realm level that Connor's sort of reacted. But the Processor Realm made flinch really hard. His hand shot out, grabbing the headmaster's wrist with surprising strength for his age.
"Stop the signal," the headmaster commanded.
A minute later, Connor finally relaxed, his body entering a "clean" slate which is a period of rest in the dream state. Blood trickled from his nose, a sign he had pushed to his absolute limits.
The headmaster cut the signal, and the room fell into an awed silence. The first to react was the representative from Chronos Corporation, a man with slicked-back hair and an air of authority. He clapped, the sound breaking the stillness.
"Congratulations, Connor," he said, stepping forward and shaking Connor's hand. The room buzzed with anticipation, expecting an offer to follow.
Instead, the rep's expression turned smug. "Hiding one's cognitive strength level is a misdemeanor under the Global Cognitive Regulation Act. The penalty is severe," the rep announced, his voice echoing in the hall.
The room erupted into chaos.
"Are you serious?" a student yelled.
"He's a genius! Who cares about some law?" another shouted.
Ethan, forever the hater, seized the moment. "Trying to be viral by hiding your strength? Pathetic."
Connor remained calm through it all. He understood this was a test of character, a challenge to see how he would handle adversity. Meeting the rep's gaze with unwavering determination, he simply said, "Bring it."
The hall buzzed with shock and disbelief as the reality of Connor's situation settled in. The representatives murmured among themselves, weighing the implications of the Chronos Corp. representative's actions. Some looked displeased, while others seemed intrigued by the unfolding drama.
Connor stood in the center, his golden eyes steady and unflinching. The Chronos Corp. representative, smirking, leaned closer.
"You should have known better, Connor," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "But don't worry, we'll take good care of you."
Connor's mind raced, calculating his next move. He knew he had to stay calm and collected. Any sign of weakness could be exploited.
He glanced around the hall, taking in the faces of his peers and the representatives. Some of the students looked at him with awe, others with envy, and Ethan with a triumphant sneer.
Before he could respond, the headmaster stepped forward, his stern expression softening slightly as he addressed the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let's not forget why we're here. This is a day to celebrate the talents and achievements of our students. Connor's display of skill is exceptional, and while there are regulations to consider, we must handle this situation with the respect it deserves."
The Chronos rep's smirk faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. "Very well, headmaster. But the law is the law."
Connor took a deep breath, ready to defend himself. "I didn't hide my strength to deceive anyone. My abilities are what they are, and I haven't broken any laws knowingly. If there's a misunderstanding, I'm willing to cooperate."
The room fell silent, the tension thick in the air. The headmaster nodded approvingly at Connor's calm demeanor.
"Well said, Connor. Let's proceed with the next test. We'll handle any legal matters afterward."
The Chronos rep hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But I'll be watching closely."
Connor walked over to the combat simulation area, where a row of high-tech game cabins awaited.
These cabins were designed to immerse students into a virtual world, akin to the Shattered Realms setup but tailored specifically for combat assessment. He slid into the sleek pod, feeling the familiar hum of the machine as it activated. The door sealed shut, and within moments, he was transported into the digital realm.
As the virtual world materialized around Connor, he found himself standing in an expansive arena. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, the digital sky overhead casting a soft, artificial glow.
This setup was perfect for the combat simulation, with every move he made being monitored and displayed on large screens outside for everyone to see.
The simulation began with Connor facing his first opponent, a Blade Apprentice. These combatants were known for their basic precision in movements, able to maintain their refined state for only short durations.
Connor dispatched the Blade Apprentice with ease, his movements fluid and controlled.
One by one, more opponents appeared. Each Blade Apprentice exhibited a slight improvement over the last, but none posed a significant challenge for Connor. His experience and training in the future had honed his combat skills to an almost instinctive level.
Within twenty minutes, he had defeated twenty Blade Apprentices. The crowd watching outside was astounded. Whispers of disbelief and admiration filled the air.
"How is he doing this?"
"He's only a senior student, right?"
"Is he some kind of prodigy?"
The combat simulation was designed to end only when the participant was defeated. As Connor continued to fight, his mind began to sync more naturally with his current brain. Connor never hada chance to regain and hone his combat standards.
The headmaster and other teachers noted how his casual stance belied a readiness for combat when he was just standing outside earlier. It was clear that Connor's experience went beyond what they had initially assumed.
Gradually, Connor's combat standards began to rise. The Blade Apprentice realm, which was all about basic precision and short-term refined states, became a distant memory as he smoothly transitioned into the Edge Mastery realm.
In this state, his heightened brain activity enhanced his senses and control over his body. He dodged attacks effortlessly, detected weaknesses with uncanny accuracy, and maximized his physical strength and speed.
The headmaster turned to a teacher beside him, his voice barely containing his excitement. "This is unprecedented. He's not just fighting— it's like he's learning something as he fights."
The dead nodded. "I've never seen anything like it. His movements… they're too refined for someone his age."
Connor fought with relentless efficiency, each opponent falling faster than the last. The simulation threw a mix of Blade Apprentices and the occasional Edge Mastery combatant at him. He faced fifty Blade Apprentices and one Edge Mastery opponent, overcoming them all within thirty minutes.
The crowd outside erupted in cheers and applause, the atmosphere electric with awe and excitement. Representatives from various corporations and guilds were on their phones, animatedly discussing Connor's potential.
Ethan, the student who had taunted Connor earlier, was livid. He stormed over to the Chronos Corp representative. "This is ridiculous! He's making a mockery of the tests. You need to do something about this."
The representative, a stern man with sharp features, nodded thoughtfully. "I'll make a few calls. We'll see what can be done. Just stay calm."
And 30 minutes later, Connor had defeated twenty-five Blade Apprentice experts and six Edge Mastery experts.
His final challenge came in the form of fifteen illusory Blade Apprentices and eight late-stage Edge Mastery experts. Despite his best efforts, the sheer number, strength, coordinated attacks overwhelmed him, and he finally 'fell'.
As Connor did not want them to know that his combat standards are much higher, he opted to just showcase this much.
Over a hundred representatives from various factions crowded around him, each one trying to secure his allegiance.
However, the headmaster, meanwhile, was on his phone, trying to find a way to prevent Connor from facing imprisonment for hiding his cognitive strength level. The penalty for such an offense was severe, especially for someone under twenty-five, as it could severely hinder their growth potential.
"You've got some nerve stealing my limelight," Ethan began, his voice dripping with disdain. "You think you can just—"
Before Ethan could finish his tirade, Connor's fist shot out, landing a solid punch on Ethan's jaw. Ethan, who had been sneering at Connor, was caught completely off guard and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Thompson eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of his cousin lying on the floor. "You insolent brat!" he roared, stepping forward with the intent to teach Connor a lesson.
Just as Thompson, a 1-star Dissemination Realm expert, threw a punch towards Connor, the Dean, a 2-star Dissemination Realm expert, intervened. With a swift movement, the Dean caught Thomason's wrist, stopping his punch mid-air.
"Enough!" the Dean commanded, his voice authoritative and unyielding. "This is not a place where you can bully minors."
Thompson, still seething, yanked his arm free. "You think you can protect him? There's a figure coming who you won't be able to stop from taking him into custody," he spat out, his words filled with venom.
Before the situation could escalate, the doors to the hall burst open. A figure strode in, commanding attention with their mere presence.
'No, way! Leopald Voss is in fact related to Ethan. He's his seventh uncle. This is a something that I overlooked,' Connor thinks to himself.
The person who walked in just now is known as the Law of the West, a figure Connor surely recognized from the future. The tension in the room shifted instantly, all eyes now on the new arrival.
But, Connor knew him as someone else, a prominent figure in Shattered Realms. His name was…
Guild Leader Lionheart.