176: Chapter 176 Wang Lin's Test (Part 1)

"They want to assess you," Lu Zhiyi corrected.

"That person said that since you are someone Bishop Qin Cang has taken a liking to, you must have some extraordinary qualities."

"He wants to see for himself what kind of ability you have that could make Bishop Qin Cang risk offending the Council of Elders just to arrange this position for you."

"He also wants to prove that Bishop Qin Cang has misjudged you."

Wang Lin understood now; someone wanted to slap Bishop Qin Cang in the face.

And he was that face.

Bishop Qin Cang favored him, but the Council of Elders did not. If he performed poorly in the assessment, it wouldn't be Wang Lin who lost face, but Bishop Qin Cang.

A dignified Elder of the Holy Court and Bishop of the Academy had taken a liking to a good-for-nothing; this would suggest that Bishop Qin Cang's judgment was flawed and his decision-making was poor, meaning he was no longer suitable for such an important position.

This wasn't an assessment; it was a power struggle.

Wang Lin was merely a pawn.

"Who is that person?" Wang Lin asked.

"An envoy from the Council of Elders," Lu Zhiyi said, "a swordsman of the Holy Court."

Wang Lin's gaze fell upon the silver sword at Lu Zhiyi's waist.

A swordsman?

"His name is Song Zhengchu. An Ancient Martial Artist, Level 7, a pure swordsman."

"He is a capable assistant to one of the Elders and his words carry a lot of weight."

"That Elder has been opposing Bishop Qin Cang for a long time. This appointment of an Inspector is just an excuse he is using to attack Bishop Qin Cang."

Wang Lin shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at Lu Zhiyi.

"What do you mean by telling me all this?"

"I mean that tomorrow's assessment isn't just your own business. If you lose, it won't be you who loses face, but Bishop Qin Cang."

"You might not care about losing face, but you know deep down how Bishop Qin Cang has treated you."

Wang Lin was silent for a moment, then said: "Where is that person now?"

"At the Holy Court."

Wang Lin thought for a moment: "Since it's so much trouble, can I just not be an Inspector?"

"You can," Lu Zhiyi said.

Hearing that he could, Wang Lin breathed a sigh of relief.

"But there is one condition."

Wang Lin's breath stuck halfway.

"You have joined the Holy Court and are already an auxiliary member. You cannot resign from this status."

"Bishop Qin Cang gave you the position of Inspector so that you would have a respectable standing and wouldn't need to start from the bottom."

"If you don't become an Inspector, you will have to start from the bottom."

Wang Lin frowned: "The bottom? What do you mean?"

"As an auxiliary member of the Holy Court, the lowest level is a Reservist."

"Every morning, you go to the Holy Court headquarters to report, clock in, attend morning training, and cultivate your Qi and blood."

"Cultivate Qi and blood?" Wang Lin interrupted her.

"Correct. The Holy Court is founded on Ancient Martial Arts. No matter what kind of Esper you are, once you enter the Holy Court, you must start practicing the basics of Ancient Martial Arts."

"Every day, you stand in stances, meditate, and circulate your Qi and blood."

"Four hours in the morning, four hours in the afternoon. Unless there is a valid reason, you are not allowed to take leave, be late, or leave early."

Wang Lin's mouth twitched: "Eight hours a day? Standing in stances?"

"What kind of place do you think the Holy Court is?" Lu Zhiyi looked at him. "A resort?"

Wang Lin did not speak.

"Reservists have no military merit, no rank, and no salary."

"If you want to get promoted, you have to rely on military merit. You complete missions issued by the Holy Court, earn a certain amount of merit per mission, and only after accumulating enough can you be promoted a level."

"It takes about half a year to promote to the next level after Reservist, which is an official auxiliary member."

"To reach my level…" She paused, "It would take about five or six years."

Wang Lin stood there, going over Lu Zhiyi's words in his head.

Get up early to clock in every day. Eight hours of stance training. No salary. Complete missions to earn merit. It would take five or six years to reach Lu Zhiyi's position.

A scene appeared in his mind:

He gets up before dawn every day, squeezes onto a bus to the Holy Court headquarters,

swipes his card at the entrance with a "beep," and then walks into the training grounds,

standing in a corner, practicing stances with dozens of other Reservists.

Standing for four hours straight, eating lunch, and then continuing to stand in the afternoon.

Day after day, year after year, like a machine.

How is this any different from the 996 work schedule in his previous life?

No, at least 996 had a salary. He wouldn't even have a salary.

Wang Lin looked at Lu Zhiyi and was silent for three seconds: "What items does the Inspector assessment require?"

Lu Zhiyi's mouth twitched slightly: "I don't know. Song Zhengchu didn't reveal the content of the assessment. He only said he would let you demonstrate yourself in the way you are most skilled at."

The way I am most skilled at? What the hell am I even most skilled at? I don't even know… Does he know?

"What time tomorrow?"

"Ten in the morning. At the Holy Court Martial Arts Arena."

"I understand."

After Lu Zhiyi finished her instructions, she turned and left, her voice drifting from afar: "Don't be late."

Wang Lin sighed. Inspector? The bottom? 996? Five or six years?

If he didn't become an Inspector, he would have to start from the bottom, clocking in and standing in stances every day, operating like a machine for five or six years.

To be an Inspector, he had to pass Song Zhengchu's assessment.

Neither path was easy to walk.

But the first path was too slow. He didn't have time to waste on stance training.

His Superpower, blade techniques, and spatial abilities all needed to be honed in real combat, not on a training ground.

The second path was a bit troublesome; he had just arrived at the Holy Court and was already about to offend some big shot?

How is this supposed to let me keep a low profile?

The next day, 9:30 AM.

Holy Court Martial Arts Arena.

Wang Lin stood in the center of the Martial Arts Arena, hands in his pockets, looking at the gray ceiling above.

The Martial Arts Arena was huge, twice as big as the Academy's combat Training Hall, with the floor paved with solid slabs of bluestone.

All around were tiered spectator stands that could accommodate hundreds of people.

At this moment, quite a few people were already sitting in the stands…

Knights of the Holy Court, senior faculty members of the Academy, and some faces Wang Lin didn't recognize…

Dressed in formal attire with serious expressions, they were clearly people from the Council of Elders…

Bishop Qin Cang sat in the front row of the stands, while Lu Zhiyi stood at the edge of the Martial Arts Arena, arms crossed, expressionless.

Instructor Meng He had also come, sitting in a corner of the stands, wearing a gray training uniform, holding a teacup in his hand, exactly the same as he was usually at the Ancient Martial Arts Training Hall.

There were also some students from the Ancient Martial Arts Training Hall in the stands…

Huo Yan was there, the girl with the ponytail was there too, along with a few other faces Wang Lin had seen before.

In their eyes, there was anticipation, nervousness, and something indescribable.

At this moment, everyone was waiting, waiting for one person.

At 9:45 AM, the doors of the Martial Arts Arena were pushed open.

Everyone's gaze turned toward the entrance.

The person who arrived was in his fifties, not tall, but very sturdy, and made almost no sound when walking.

He wore a deep green robe, his hair was gray, and it was combed meticulously.

A sword hung at his waist; the scabbard was black, undecorated, and as plain as a piece of wood.

But Wang Lin noticed that the angle at which the sword hung from his waist was very special…

It was not hanging straight down but was slightly tilted, a tilt that allowed his right hand to draw the sword at the fastest possible Speed.

Song Zhengchu, a swordsman of the Holy Court.