Chapter 164: Talents and Abilities
In the dim backseat, Xie Chongyi pinned Wu Heng against the corner, licking and kissing the corners of his lips like savoring candy.
The air grew stifling, its temperature heated by their mingled breaths.
Wu Heng lifted his gaze and met Xie Chongyi’s eyes—dark red, animalistic rather than human.
Wu Heng returned the kiss cautiously, his fingers tracing the other’s waistline until they silently found the syringe in his pocket.
The cold needle tip glinted silver against Xie Chongyi’s nape, sinking without pause into his skin. Xie Chongyi’s body stiffened, his eyes churning. In the next instant, without warning, he clamped his hands around Wu Heng’s slender, fragile neck.
Now the commotion grew loud.
Lin Mengzhi’s eyes widened. “Wild?!”
He was outside the car, unaware of the situation, but those inside with Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi saw everything clearly.
It wasn’t surprising to see murderous intent in Xie Chongyi’s eyes, but what was unexpected was that this time, that intent was directed at Wu Heng.
“Woo—” Shukui growled at the figure above the seat.
Wu Heng motioned for it to be quiet. He could exchange blows with Xie Chongyi, but Shukui was just a kick away from being finished.
“You don’t need to go. You’ll only get hurt,” Xue Shen pulled back the restless Shen Ping’an.
The blue syringe was pushed all the way in. Xie Chongyi’s gaze toward Wu Heng grew unfocused, and he finally collapsed heavily into Wu Heng’s arms.
Wu Heng gently pulled out the needle tip and tucked it back into Xie Chongyi’s pocket. Leaning against the car window, he remained motionless for a moment. Even the slightest shift of his body made him feel the cold, damp sweat soaking his back.
He realized he had never truly felt fear before.
Even when facing Wu Shiming’s fists poised to strike, or the escalating conflict between Lin Mengzhi and Wu Zhi, he had always believed he held absolute control over everything that happened to him.
But the dying Xie Chongyi brought him a fear unlike any he had ever known, causing every muscle in his body to spasm.
Life and death are no more than a drop in the vast ocean. Wu Heng’s fingers moved unconsciously to Xie Chongyi’s still-beating neck, and a sudden wave of sorrow washed over him. But he was not the ocean. He and Xie Chongyi were no different from any other human beings—just a single drop.
Wu Heng tightened his arms around the unconscious Xie Chongyi and buried his face in his neck.
“What are you doing?” Lin Mengzhi suddenly leaned halfway into the passenger seat from outside the car. It was pitch-black in the back, and he couldn’t see clearly.
Soon, Xue Qi squeezed his head in from his brother’s side. He knew a bit more. “Old Xie’s having another episode?”
“Episode? What episode?”
“The experimental subjects,” Xue Qi said, raising both hands. “They’re divided into two types. One type survives by relying on the new energy. In the apocalypse, this type can evolve and level up faster than anyone else—like Ginger and the others.”
“The other type can only survive in the pre-apocalypse environment. It’s not that they can’t absorb the new energy—it’s that they prefer feeding on negative-energy matter. But that substance has a side effect: it gradually erodes the subject’s primary consciousness, and in the end turns them completely into a container for that energy.”
“Oh? And what does that have to do with the class monitor?”
“Old Xie is the latter. In fact, he’s the only one. Back then, Wu Mo deliberately used him to hold energy impurities. His idea would’ve worked before the apocalypse. But no one expected the apocalypse to arrive and for negative matter to explode everywhere. While Old Xie evolved faster than anyone else, the speed at which he loses his consciousness also increases.”
“Will he die?”
“Of course,” Xue Qi said. “Unless the entire Earth returns to its pre-apocalypse state. But without refined energy to suppress it, Old Xie would still die.”
“Then what do we do?” Lin Mengzhi asked nervously. “Is there no other way?”
“Jingzhou has been trying to find a solution. If they come up with anything, they’ll send someone to contact Old Xie.”
To Lin Mengzhi, that was no less than devastating news. Xie Chongyi might be a pretty ordinary guy, but after hanging out together for so long, he was at least half a brother.
What’s more, even if the two of them didn’t know each other, Xie Chongyi was still someone A’Heng liked.
A’Heng possessed far too little in this world. You couldn’t give him something, only to take it away again. You just couldn’t do that.
“No—no, this isn’t—” Lin Mengzhi stammered for a long while, his voice turning weak and dispirited. “Who the hell allowed this to happen…”
From Shen Ping’an’s angle, he could just see Wu Heng’s left eye. Uneven streaks of red floated across the gray-green iris, as if the tissue around the eye socket were seeping blood.
It was the first time he had ever seen Wu Heng show such fear and helplessness. For a fleeting moment, he envied Xie Chongyi. To receive that kind of treatment from Wu Heng was harder than ascending to the heavens—Wu Heng wasn’t like other people; intense, blazing emotions alone were not enough to move him. Shen Ping’an had no idea what Xie Chongyi had relied on to earn such an honor.
“About when will he wake up?” Wu Heng helped Xie Chongyi back into his own seat.
Xue Shen answered in a low voice, “It depends. If it’s quick, half a day. If it’s slow, maybe two or three days.”
They didn’t know how to comfort Wu Heng—because they were just as upset.
Wu Heng pulled a blanket out of his bag and covered both himself and Xie Chongyi with it. He drew it over their heads and tried to sleep.
—
At noon the next day, dark clouds blanketed the sky, making it look like late afternoon when they arrived outside the Hanzhou Base.
A tall wall encircled the base. Dense vegetation rose deep and high beyond it. Giant posters of a male star hung from the city walls, looking surprisingly brand-new.
Standing beside the car, Lin Mengzhi casually grabbed someone coming out of the base. “What are the conditions for entering?”
“If you’ve got talent, no energy cores needed. If you don’t, ten B-grade cores per person.”
“Talent?!”
Before Lin Mengzhi could ask more, the group had already brushed past them and walked away.
Xue Qi got out of the car as well. “We’re locals from Hanzhou, aren’t we? Since when do we need to meet conditions just to go home?”
“This is already their territory,” Dou Lu reminded them. “And they’ve declared themselves independent—no longer under Jingzhou’s control.”
Guards in uniform at the entrance stopped both the car and its passengers. The entry requirements they gave were exactly the same as what that person had just said.
“Any kind of talent?” Lin Mengzhi asked.
“Any kind.”
“Watch this.” Even though his family had plenty of resources, Lin Mengzhi still believed in saving whenever possible.
With a flick of his hand, three red-glowing fire batons appeared, flashing as he spun them with crackling sounds. “Use the nunchaku! Hmph hmph ha hey! Use the nunchaku! Hmph hmph ha hey! If I had lightness skills, I’d leap across rooftops and walls! Upright and unyielding, full of righteous spirit!”
These were the only two moves he’d learned back in kindergarten—just those two. Enduring the sharp pain in his back, he forced a grin at the guard. “So? Can we go in?”
The guard frowned deeply but didn’t make things difficult for them. “Go ahead.”
Xue Qi stared in disbelief. “That works?!”
Xue Shen said, “Those are the higher-ups’ rules. There’s probably no specific standard for skill level. So as long as the guard’s willing, you could perform something ridiculous and they might still let you in.”
“I’m not performing anything ridiculous. Bro, sounds like that’s all you’d be able to do,” Xue Qi shot back as he walked forward. Spider silk twisted together in his hands, forming what he considered a barely passable violin.
“I can only play for thirty seconds,” Xue Qi said as he set the violin in place. “Even the cheapest seats for my concerts go for 980.”
He drew the bow across the strings. From the very first note that spilled out, his expression turned refined and peerless.
The sorrowful yet not sluggish melody floated in the air for precisely thirty seconds. He lowered the violin. “May I go in?”
The guard snapped out of his daze and nodded.
In the apocalypse, people like Xue Qi—those with extraordinary artistic talent—were hardly rare. The rigid hierarchies of human society had been mercilessly shattered. Those once at the “bottom” could rise to the top overnight thanks to powerful abilities, while even the most gifted and in-demand artistic masters might end up reduced to wandering the streets.
Dou Lu could play the flute. Although the only tune she knew was “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” she was still allowed through.
Ruan Silian’s skill was paper-cutting. She asked Wu Heng for some paper and borrowed scissors from Shen Ping’an. The not-so-large sheet fluttered swiftly in her hands, not a single scrap falling to the ground. Only when she unfolded the portion she had left intact did it become clear—what she had cut away was the likeness of the very guard standing before her.
“Holy—!” Lin Mengzhi darted back over. “You can do that?”
“I used to cut for fun at school. It wasn’t useful for anything.”
“Cut one for me!”
The guard took his own paper portrait from Lin Mengzhi’s hand. The corners of his mouth lifted as he tucked the paper-cut into his pocket, breaking into a grin. “Alright, get in.”
“I’ll give it a try.” Zhou Yi glanced at the remaining people. With his backpack still on, he performed a restrained but precise display of combat techniques. As soon as he finished, the middle-aged guard on the left stepped forward. “You’re military?”
Zhou Yi paused. Behind him, Xue Shen said calmly, “He retired from the army last year.”
Only then did the guard step back. He gave the group another look—some of them still carried traces of student youthfulness. He said nothing more and waved them through.
“And you two?” the guard urged.
Ying Liuquan shuffled forward slowly until he stood in front of him, then took out an A-grade core. “No—no need for change.”
“…Go on in.”
Wu Heng bit into a strip of dried meat and tilted his head to ask Xie Chongyi, “What can you do?”
“Old Xie can paint.”
Xie Chongyi wrapped an arm around Wu Heng’s waist, burying his face in his neck. His voice was muffled. “Dizzy. Not painting.”
Wu Heng took two A-grade cores out of his pocket and glanced at Xue Shen. “We’re heading in first.”
“…”
Xue Shen drove the car up and handed over the energy cores. Shen Ping’an, however, didn’t use energy cores. He stepped out of the driver’s seat holding two pairs of scissors. “I can cut hair. Want to give it a try?”
“Heh~” At a time like this, practical life skills seemed even more useful than singing or playing instruments. The moment the guard heard that, he immediately removed his hat, revealing a wild, messy mop of hair. “Alright, give it a shot. But if you ruin it, you’re paying up—and I won’t let you in.”
He had someone bring a chair out from the tent and even took off his jacket, wrapping it around himself like a barber’s cape before sitting down in front of Shen Ping’an. He rubbed his thighs nervously.
Shen Ping’an, on the other hand, was calmer than he was. He spun the scissors once in his hand, wearing the confident expression every barber seemed to have when cutting hair.
Snipped strands flew through the air. The middle-aged man’s forehead and brows, previously completely hidden, gradually came into view—features sharp and piercing despite the traces of hardship.
In less than five minutes, Shen Ping’an put away his tools. “All done.”
The guard looked into the mirror, clearly extremely satisfied. Bursting into hearty laughter, he stood up and gave the young man a few firm pats on the back. “Go on in, go on in!”
Shen Ping’an turned and got back into the car.
That left only Xue Zhi. She hopped down from the vehicle and walked to a slightly more open patch of ground. The moment she raised her hand, it was obvious her specialty was dance. Contrary to her usual style of dress, what she performed was classical dance.
Her body was exceptionally flexible. Every lift, drop, turn, and pause seemed honed through countless repetitions—each movement landing with precision. The ground beneath her feet was uneven, yet she did not waver in the slightest. After one minute, she came to a stop and smiled at the guard. “Is that okay?”
The guard snapped out of it. “Okay? Of course it’s okay!”
The one even more entranced than the guard and the others was Lin Mengzhi. If Wu Heng hadn’t tugged at him, his soul might have floated off entirely.
“Once we’re inside, let’s find a place to stay,” Lin Mengzhi said as he turned to pull the car door open—only to find it wouldn’t budge. “Class rep, open the door! Why’d you lock it?”
Xue Shen’s voice came from the front. “Go sit with Xue Zhi.”
“Right, right.” Lin Mengzhi scratched his head with a grin. “Good thing you reminded me. When it counts, brothers are reliable!”
“By the way,” the guard suddenly called out again. He strode over to the front of their car and pointed toward the entrance. “Once you’re inside, there’s a place for ability-level testing. Make sure you take the test.”
“They’re checking ability levels too?” Xue Qi grabbed his seatbelt. “The savior has a bad feeling about this.”
Xue Shen pressed down on the accelerator, and the car slowly rolled forward.
Sure enough, not far ahead stood a row of small houses with red roofs and white walls. Seven or eight guards milled about outside. When they saw a modified jeep driving toward them, their gazes immediately locked onto it.
At a time like this, anyone who could still afford to drive a customized jeep was definitely not simple. Their eyes were full of vigilance and scrutiny—until a purple-haired guy jumped out.
“Damn, is this the place?”
“Take off any metal on you, then lie down on the bed. Results in two minutes.”
Lin Mengzhi rushed to lie down first.
He was sent out quickly. His ability attribute and level appeared on the screen:
Fire attribute, S.
“An S-rank ability user?” A few of the guards behind the screen leaned closer, not quite believing it. “So young, and already that strong. Next.”
—
Animal Symbiosis, S
Metal attribute, S+
Unknown attribute, Physique Enhancement, S+
Water attribute, S+
Water attribute, S+
…
If two consecutive S-rank ability users had surprised the guards in charge of testing, then the string of S+ results that followed left them far beyond mere surprise. An indescribable mix of envy and jealousy filled their hearts.
Heaven knew that simply awakening an ability was already incredibly fortunate. Yet this group—not only did most of them possess powerful, versatile abilities suited for both offense and defense, their ranks were also at the very top of the pyramid.
Then a pale-looking young man walked into the testing room.
This one looks pretty ordinary.
Xie Chongyi spread the blanket Wu Heng had given him over the bed. Under Wu Heng’s faintly worried gaze, he lay down weakly.
The ellipsis on the display screen blinked longer than it had for anyone else before him.
Finally, the result appeared.
No attribute, SS+.
“Double S+? There aren’t even many of those in the whole country!”
“What are these people gathering together for?”
Wu Heng stepped forward to take Xie Chongyi’s place. Xie Chongyi left the blanket behind for him. Without saying a word, Wu Heng lay down.
Xie Chongyi walked out of the room. Xue Shen glanced at him. “Still not feeling well? When you had an episode on the plane before, it wasn’t this bad.”
“Yeah,” Xie Chongyi pressed a hand to his temple. “Feels awful. Super awful.”
The moment Xue Shen saw him like that, he knew he was faking it. He gave him a shove. “You can fool Wu Heng. He’s simple.”
They were still talking when an alarm suddenly sounded inside the testing room. The lazy ease in Xie Chongyi’s eyes vanished instantly.
The testing bed slowly slid out from inside the machine. Wu Heng was just about to sit up when a guard rushed in and pressed him back down. “Please wait. The results aren’t out. We need to retest.”
Wu Heng lay back down. His eyes half-open, he felt the bed beneath him begin moving into the machine again.
This time, the buffering on the display screen lasted even longer than it had for Xie Chongyi, as if the machine itself were unsure and lagging. The results appeared at an unusually slow pace.
Plant Symbiote, SSS+
Wood attribute, SSS+
Fire attribute, SS+
Wu Heng sat up from the bed. As he left, he casually took the blanket with him.
When the young man stepped out of the testing room, he noticed that the expressions on his teammates’ faces were almost identical to those of the guards—equally stunned.
“Who told me the highest ability rank was double S+?” Lin Mengzhi felt not only pride by association, but also a sharp stab of heartbreak. Damn it, I’ve been left way too far behind!!!
“Because before this, the highest anyone had ever tested was double S+,” Xue Qi said. “So naturally people assumed that was the ceiling. Guess we update it now—SSS plus.”
“Wu Heng, how are you this strong?!” Dou Lu exclaimed excitedly. “Oh my god, I suddenly feel like Deathlands is already in our pocket!”
Wu Heng gave Dou Lu a faint smile.
“Um, please wait a moment,” one of the guards hurried over, holding a registration form. His brows were tightly knit, clearly confused. “You’re a symbiote, which already makes you wood attribute. Logically, the result should only show wood attribute. But it also shows symbiote separately, and fire attribute as well. This is…”
“He’s a light-attribute ability user. And light is basically fire attribute, right? What’s the problem?” Xue Qi spread his hands, not seeing what was so confusing.
The guard’s mouth fell slightly open. It took him a long moment to find his voice, and even then it lacked conviction. “S-So… a dual-attribute ability user?”
Wu Heng: “Mm.”
“A plant symbiote and light attribute?” The guard was utterly baffled. “But the plant symbiote itself is already wood attribute. And the wood attribute and its rank are already displayed. Why would the symbiote and its rank appear separately again?”
“A plant symbiote is a plant symbiote. Wood attribute refers to elemental wood. They’re not the same thing,” Xue Qi explained helpfully.
The guard’s brain short-circuited. This situation was unprecedented. “So you’re not only wood and light dual-attribute… you’re also an SSS+ plant symbiote?”
Lin Mengzhi snapped his fingers. “Yes!”
The guard involuntarily took a step back. Inwardly, he was nearly screaming himself hoarse, yet his face couldn’t produce any expression at all. Dear mother of—an SSS+ plant symbiote alone was practically impossible, and now a dual-attribute ability user on top of that?
For a moment, he couldn’t even decide which was more shocking—the dual attributes, or the SSS+ plant symbiote.
“Well, um, a symbiote at this rank shouldn’t really exist. You might need to—”
His words were cut off by a flash of deep green before his eyes.
From his perspective, the doorway had already transformed into a vast sea of green. Black blossoms burst into bloom in frantic succession, waves of dizzying fragrance washing over him.
The breathtaking scene shattered violently just seconds later.
Vines surged upward from the ground, blotting out the sky.
They twisted and coiled overhead, pressing down like a living canopy. A massive green sword soon took shape above the entire base—so immense it could cleave all of Hanzhou clean in two in a single instant.
Once he was certain that the guard, the other guards—and likely the entire base—had seen clearly enough, Wu Heng withdrew his ability. The terrifying mutated plants vanished with crisp finality, and the outdoor scenery returned to normal as though nothing had happened.
In a calm, even tone, Wu Heng asked the guard in front of him, “Do I still need to be retested?”
The guard swallowed and shook his head.
“Can we go in now?”
The guard nodded vigorously.
—————————————————————————————————————————
Author’s Note:
Little Devil Snake: Stop dragging this out. My boyfriend is very weak and desperately needs rest.
Everyone else: Please, Class Monitor, stop acting already.