To be honest, ever since the college entrance exam ended, Luo Feng's physical growth had hit a plateau. Over ten days had passed without any real improvement.
But something unexpected happened. Luo Feng, who'd turned into an obsessive "study maniac," ended up giving Wei Wen such a sharp boost in his understanding of movement techniques that Wei Wen actually surpassed Luo Feng first—reaching the Micro Stage of footwork mastery.
"Looks like that last push worked wonders," Wei Wen thought, grinning."From here on, I'll be relying entirely on Luo Feng to keep breaking ground."
He was genuinely pleased with Luo Feng's potential. As far as "assistants" went, Luo Feng was perfect.
The Limit Dojo held its Quasi-Warrior Assessments on the first day of every month.
On the morning of July 1st, Wei Wen and Luo Feng left their residential community on the South Bank and headed together toward the dojo's local headquarters: Limit Hall, located in Yangzhou City's Mingyue District.
By the time they arrived, more students had gathered—nine candidates in total.
Some of them looked much older—over thirty, maybe even over forty. Which made Wei Wen and Luo Feng, barely eighteen, stand out right away.
In these kinds of tests, age mattered. The younger the participant, the higher their potential was seen to be.
"All right, everyone follow me upstairs for the test," a warrior instructor announced, coming down from above.
"Yes, sir."
Everyone, including Luo Feng and Wei Wen, nodded respectfully and followed the instructor.
Sixth floor.The dojo's massive training arena—the venue for the Quasi-Warrior Assessment.
Inside, more than a dozen instructors had already assembled. Jiang Nian was among them.
When he saw Luo Feng and Wei Wen, a hint of anticipation appeared in his eyes.
"Let's get started."Chief Instructor Wu Tong checked the time and walked toward the candidates."Line up and hand me your ID cards."
One by one, the nine test-takers handed over their IDs. When Wu Tong saw the birthdates on two of them, he raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Two of you are just eighteen? And both from Yian District?" Wu Tong chuckled."Interesting. You two can go first."
He randomly grabbed one of their ID cards—Wei Wen's—and swiped it on a nearby data console.
Beep!
A transparent projection screen lit up, displaying a full readout of Wei Wen's stats and background.
"Wei Wen, huh," Wu Tong said, glancing over at Jiang Nian."Hey Old Jiang, when did your district start producing talents like this?"
"Pure coincidence," Jiang Nian replied, smiling. "Didn't think he'd be this good either."
"Wei Wen, go ahead. Show them what kind of talent comes out of Yian District."
Wei Wen nodded and stepped toward the strength testing apparatus.
The moment the others heard he was only eighteen, all eyes turned toward him—students and instructors alike. Everyone was curious to see what this young man could do.
Of course, Wei Wen's strength was already well beyond the threshold to pass.
The only reason he was taking the test was to officially qualify for a Genetic Force cultivation method. If his stats suddenly jumped without explanation later, it would raise suspicion.
He exhaled slowly and positioned himself in front of the punching machine. His body coiled slightly, generating explosive force from his core.
With a blur of motion, he launched his fist.
Boom!
The machine blared a sequence of electronic beeps.
Data readout: 1240 kilograms.
The sound alone told the instructors that his power had crossed the 1000 kg mark.
At that level, no one in the room would dare to dismiss him, even at his age.
Luo Feng quietly took note of the number, mentally reaffirming his resolve:I need to train just as hard—if not harder.
Jiang Nian grinned broadly, rubbing his smooth bald head in satisfaction.
"1240 kilos. Strength test passed!" Wu Tong announced.
Officially, the minimum requirement for quasi-warrior status was a punching force of 900 kg.
There were two other physical metrics to meet:
Speed: Minimum sprint speed of 25 meters per second.
Reaction Time: Reflexes equivalent to a Basic Warrior.
Only candidates who passed all three tests would move on to the live combat assessment.
One by one, the nine candidates completed the strength test. One person fell short of the required force and was eliminated on the spot.
Next came the speed test.
Wei Wen once again put up solid numbers. Even though he hadn't focused much on footwork, Luo Feng's insights were essentially his insights now—and Wei Wen had already edged ahead of him.
Two more were eliminated during the speed round. That left six candidates.
Now, only one test remained—neural response speed.
"Follow me."
Wu Tong led the instructors and the remaining six participants into a smaller adjoining room: the Neural Reflex Testing Chamber.
It was far smaller than the previous hall, but the machinery inside was state-of-the-art.
A towering reflex-testing machine stood at the center. At its front were dozens of gun-barrel-like devices arranged in a semi-circle.
These weren't ordinary training tools.
The machine was rigged with a multi-barrel sensory targeting system, capable of firing light pulses from over thirty different "muzzles" simultaneously.
Compared to the average person on Earth in the 21st century, these cultivators had vastly superior reaction speeds, strength, and awareness. This test measured how quickly one could dodge and react under pressure.
"First up—Wei Wen," Wu Tong said.
Luo Feng had already gone through this test once. Naturally, Wei Wen knew the protocol.
Thanks to his newly reached Micro Stage movement technique, this would be a walk in the park.
Wei Wen stepped into the center of the 3.6-meter-diameter ring, looking calm and focused.
Wu Tong flipped a switch.
Buzz—
A faint red light formed a circle on the ground, rising around Wei Wen and wrapping him in a holographic field.
"You all know the rules, so I'll skip the explanation." Wu Tong looked at Wei Wen."Ready?"
"Ready."
Wu Tong pressed the controls.
Beep—Beep—Beep—
The multi-barreled apparatus spun up. Red pulses began firing—fast, chaotic, unpredictable.
Some shot out in straight lines. Others zig-zagged. Some came from angles you wouldn't expect.
Wei Wen's body moved smoothly.
There was no wasted motion. Every shift of his foot, every twist of his torso, was minimal yet perfectly timed.
It looked effortless—almost casual. He dodged each beam like he'd done it a thousand times.
To the instructors, it was eye-opening.
"That's some serious reaction speed…" one of them murmured."Better than his strength or speed. The kid's footwork is sharp."
"He barely shifts his balance when he dodges. He's always centered, always ready to move again."
"No one moves like that at 18 without decades of training…" another whispered.
They were amazed by what they were seeing.
But what they didn't realize—what they couldn't realize—was that Wei Wen had already grasped Micro Stage footwork, something few warriors mastered even in their 30s.
And Wu Tong?
The moment he saw the fluidity of Wei Wen's body, the crispness of his movements—
His eyes narrowed.
"…Micro Stage?" he muttered in disbelief.