Chapter 8: Two Warriors
"557 points, and the undergrad cutoff is 561?" Luo Feng took a deep breath.
Four points short. Just four points stood between him and a military academy spot. Twelve years of schooling, and this was the result.
"So what if I can't go to a military academy?" His gaze sharpened. He slashed the air with his palm, the blade of his hand slicing through the air with a violent hum. "That collapse actually boosted my strength. A lot."
"Maybe my physical stats already meet warrior standards. I might pass the Provisional Warrior Assessment now."
"Even if I'm slightly short, it can't be by much. A month or two of hard training, and I'll nail that assessment."
Luo Feng adapted quickly. Though the gaokao result stung, the unexpected physical boost from his collapse gave him confidence. After all, a military academy graduate's status paled next to that of a warrior.
"Click." He opened his door and stepped into the living room. His parents, Luo Hongguo and Gong Xinlan, and his brother, Luo Hua, turned to look, all wearing concerned expressions. Gong Xinlan stood up immediately. "Xiao Feng, this isn't your fault. That headache—why did it have to strike now? It's been years since the last episode."
"Bro, you aren't crushed about this, are you?" Luo Hua teased from his wheelchair. The family had already checked his scores on Luo Hua's laptop, knowing he'd missed the cutoff by a hair. Disappointment lingered, but their bigger worry was Luo Feng's state of mind.
Luo Feng smiled. "Not at all. Mom, Dad, don't blame the headache. Actually... I should thank it."
"Thank it?" All three stared at him, stunned.
"Mom, Dad, Ah Hua." He grinned. "Remember the two times I passed out from headaches as a kid? Both times, I woke up stronger, faster. This time's no different. I can feel it—my physical stats are way beyond what they were. I bet I can pass the Provisional Warrior test."
"Wait, really?" Luo Hongguo, Gong Xinlan, and Luo Hua exchanged startled looks.
"For real?" Luo Hua blurted out.
"Dead serious." Luo Feng nodded. "Once I pass the provisional test, I can apply for the Warrior Combat Assessment. I'm confident in my combat skills. I might become a warrior this year."
The room fell silent. A warrior—the words hung heavy. Warriors were the elite, revered for their power, 特权 (privileges), and wealth. Their status dwarfed even top military academy graduates.
"Our family's gonna have a warrior?" Luo Hua whooped. "Bro, I 崇拜你 (崇拜你 —look up to you so much)!"
"Xiao Feng, this is amazing." Luo Hongguo clapped his shoulder, beaming. "Who needs a military academy when you can be a warrior?"
In today's world, warriors were icons. Theirs was a life of prestige and influence.
Seeing his family's joy, Luo Feng chuckled. "Don't get ahead of ourselves yet. I still need to pass the assessments."
"An 18-year-old warrior?" Luo Hua rambled, giddy. "If you pull this off, you'll be a legend!"
××××××
At 5 a.m. the next day, as dawn broke, Luo Feng left for the Extreme Martial Arts Gym.
"Quiet this time of day." The gym's lawns and paths held only a hundred or so people, a fraction of its 30,000–40,000 members. "Instructors only teach at night—that's when it's packed."
He made his way to the Advanced Students' Training Building. A low rumble echoed nearby.
"Whoa." He turned to see a sleek white sports car glide into the gym. His eyes widened. "Is that an Aston Martin THR-191? The new flying model?" His brother had raved about this car—36 million Chinese yuan, with flight capabilities.
"Aston Martin..." "The 191? The flying one?" Fellow trainees gathered, whispering.
The car parked at the training building. A man with fiery red hair—dyed, clearly—stepped out in loose training clothes. His gaze swept the crowd, pausing briefly on Luo Feng before he entered the building.
"A warrior." Luo Feng tensed. The man's eyes held the cold edge of someone who'd faced death.
"I've never seen him here before. What's he doing here?" Luo Feng headed to the third-floor training hall. It was empty—just him, the early morning light, and the equipment.
Time to test his limits. He plugged in the punch 测力计 (punch force meter) and switched on the speed tester.
Standing before the punch meter, he took a breath, centered his power in his hips, and struck like a coiled viper.
Beep, beep, beep! The meter chirped—a rare sound, meaning one thing: over 1,000 kg.
Luo Feng stared at the display: 1,089 kg.
"Are you kidding?" He grinned. Before the collapse, his max was 809 kg. Now he'd smashed the warrior benchmark of 900 kg by nearly 200.
He unleashed a flurry of punches—thud, thud, thud—the meter flashing numbers: 956, 989, 923...
"Now speed." He moved to the track. "If my speed's up to standard, and my reflexes already passed before, I'll nail the provisional test."
He bolted forward—whoosh—blasting down the track.
...
On the fourth floor, the red-haired man (Yan Luo) and a bald man in black (Jiang Nian, the gym's master instructor) walked and talked.
"Yan Luo, it's been three years since we last met," Jiang Nian said. "Back then, you were just a rookie. Now you're a legend—heard you made nearly 100 million Earth dollars on your last mission. Makes me feel old."
"Just luck." Yan Luo shrugged.
Beep, beep, beep! A faint chirp from below interrupted them.
"That's the basic punch meter," Jiang Nian said, frowning. "It only beeps for over 1,000 kg. Who's training at 5 a.m.? Maybe Yang Wu?"
"Let's check."
In a blur, the two shot down the stairs to the third floor, arriving at the training hall in seconds.
They watched as Luo Feng finished his speed run. The display read: 28.1 m/s.
"Luofeng," Jiang Nian murmured. "Over 1,000 kg punch force, 28.1 m/s speed. Impressive."
"Kid's young," Yan Luo noted. "How old is he?"
"Eighteen. One of our most talented trainees."
"Eighteen?" Yan Luo's eyes lit up.
Luo Feng froze, recognizing the red-haired warrior and his mentor, Jiang Nian. "Instructor!" He bowed.
"Come here." Jiang Nian smiled. "I had no idea you'd reached warrior stats so soon. This is Yan Luo, a senior warrior. Don't mind me sharing your name with him."
"Not at all." Yan Luo studied Luo Feng. "Talented kid. Might cross paths with me someday."
Jiang Nian turned to Luo Feng. "You're 18—took the gaokao this year, right? Forget about college. Focus on the Warrior Combat Assessment. July 1st, go to Yangzhou City's Extreme Martial Arts Hall for the provisional test. You'll breeze through it."
"College?" Yan Luo scoffed. "Don't waste your time. You have talent—devote everything to martial arts. Join our gym once you're a warrior. That's where the real prospects are."
Both warriors spoke with authority, dismissing wealth and politics as trivial. For them, Luo Feng—young, gifted, on the cusp of warriorhood—was worth nurturing.