The officer glared at Kyle for a mont before shifting his gaze to the wall, holding it there with a long, unreadable stare.
After what felt like an age, the grumpy-looking man finally sat down and opened his notebook.
His voice ca with a slight, almost forced introduction.
"I’m Officer Gerald. You will address as Officer Gerald. I am in charge of you while you remain here, and as such you will answer my questions in full. That is procedure. Is that understood? Do not so much as twitch your filthy head in response to ."
Kyle felt his heartbeat jolt at the sudden harshness of the last remark.
He had only shaken his head once, yet Gerald had already decided it was his habit.
Perhaps the man truly believed him to be terrified and struck dumb.
Terrified? Hardly.
Silent? That much was true.
He forced himself to reply, steadying his voice with as much confidence as he could muster, letting a trace of defiance slip through:
"Yes, Officer Gerald. I understand."
Officer Gerald lowered his gaze to the notebook in front of him, took a slow sip of water, then set the cup aside.
He picked up his pen, lifted his head again and fixed Kyle with a stare that carried weight.
"Na? Origin, if you know it, though it hardly matters. Stage? Skills? Age?" He rattled off the questions in one go with a flat tone.
He watched closely, as though ready to catch the flicker of a lie.
That was, in fact, exactly what Kyle intended to give him.
Still, the skill had saved him more tis than he could count. It had carried him further than luck ever could.
"I’m Kyle Clueless. I don’t know my origin, perhaps sowhere on the European side of this world... I’m not sure. As for my stage, I am..." He faltered, dragging his eyes away from the officer’s unblinking gaze.
It felt as though Gerald’s stare cut straight through him, and the next part of his answer carried its own risk.
’Fuck... whatever your na is, Goddammit.’
He had simply handed over the na the manual had given him as his last na, because he had nothing else to go by.
That was not a lie.
And as for his origin, he truly had no idea.
Everyone connected to it was long dead.
However, what he was about to say carried far more weight.
At first glance it did not seem much of a problem, but the deeper he thought about the procedures likely waiting for him, the more serious it beca.
He stood close to breaking through to the next stage, but the step had not co, which ant so requirent still eluded him.
If he admitted he was only at the Foundation Purification Realm, there was every chance they possessed devices or cultivators able to verify it.
Should they uncover an irregularity, it could turn into sothing far worse.
If the delay was only a matter of unt conditions, then there was no issue; they would simply tell him what he lacked.
If it was not, then he risked finding himself under far harsher scrutiny.
Since he was inexperienced, he could not afford to weigh every risk in detail.
Claiming to be Ungraded would raise further questions, and if they truly had a ans of verifying cultivation, the lie would unravel at once.
The real dilemma was simple: accept the danger of the truth, or gamble on a lie that might carry harsher consequences.
Officer Gerald lost his patience. He had been waiting two minutes for Kyle’s reply.
"Lost your voice, boy? Or do you need a al before you find the words?" The man’s tone was sharp with scorn, his expression hard with irritation.
Kyle forced himself to a decision.
He would follow through and let the outco shape itself, even if it ant bolting later.
"I am at the Foundation Purification Realm, Stage One. I have no skills, and I am only twenty, I suppose." His voice ca out rough, and he dropped his eyes from the officer.
A corner of Officer Gerald’s mouth lifted, the expression caught sowhere between exasperation and disbelief.
The boy had nerve, at least.
’He supposes he is twenty?’
Kyle himself could never be certain. He had no mory of his birth, only scraps of reckoning that allowed him to keep rough count.
In truth, he looked no older than eighteen.
He had lied about the skill, though it was not a complete falsehood.
What he carried was a bond imprint from Na-Ri, sothing that could be strengthened through dual cultivation.
But that was not a personal ability, nor was it a matter he intended to explain.
At Stage One, a cultivator stood at Tier 1 – Initiate rank, where possession of a skill was unthinkable.
To claim otherwise would only invite suspicion.
And in any case, there was no possible way for them to confirm whether he spoke truth or not.
In that respect, he was safe.
For a while, Gerald said nothing. His pen scratched across the page as he noted down each answer.
Kyle sat in silence, waiting to learn what direction the questioning would take next.
Once Officer Gerald had finished recording, he drew a radio telecom from his pocket and spoke into it with authority:
"Bring the Checker in."
Kyle blinked twice, uncertain who this "Checker" might be, until the realisation struck him.
Monts later, a daisy-faced young man stepped into the room, dressed in a jumper and wearing spectacles.
His appearance was mild, nothing to admire, but his build suggested he was no weakling.
As expected, this newcor was responsible for examining Kyle’s three most crucial aspects as a cultivator: his cultivation core, which revealed his stage, and finally, whether he suffered from sickness or carried the taint of Qi corruption.
’No, this bastard will discover I have a dual core. My luck again,’ Kyle thought in alarm.
He had truly overlooked that the only way his stage could be verified was through his core, and now the secret risked exposure.
Sweat beaded on his brow.
He found himself wishing they had not seized the axe; reckless as it might have been, it could have offered his only chance to break free.
Without hesitation, Officer Gerald gave the Checker permission to proceed with the inspection.
Kyle fought to mask his panic, knowing that any sign of unease would only draw suspicion and earn him harsher scrutiny.
He had to remain natural at all costs.
Taking a steady breath, he glanced at the Checker as he was instructed to stretch out his hand.
With a mont’s hesitation, Kyle complied, silently urging the manual to intervene sohow.
The Checker pressed two fingers against Kyle’s wrist, one of the key ridian points for all cultivators, alongside the forehead, chest, and the underside of the leg.
A ripple of energy signatures surged into the Checker, fluctuating from high to low.
His pupils dilated, contracting and expanding like the lens of a cara.
’...Crap. This is the end,’ Kyle thought.
The Checker lifted his fingers from Kyle’s wrist and turned to Officer Gerald, showing no great surprise, which left Kyle unsettled.
’Did he see it or not?’
Then, out of nowhere, a familiar voice that Kyle had not heard in so ti rang in his ears.
***
Access to private points was denied due to ntal rejection, and [Clueless] therefore generated a false report.
***
His eyes glead with amusent as his grin spread across his face.
’Should I call this plot armour or what? Either way, thanks.’
He understood perfectly what the manual had just reported.
Because he had been relentlessly wishing for his secret to remain hidden, it seed to have rejected the Checker’s access to his true points, generating a false report instead of refusing outright and causing greater complications.
Does that an...?
"He is at Stage One with a normal cultivation core and shows no signs of Qi corruption. All clear." The Checker raised his thumb and flashed a wide smile, his white teeth displayed as though in so advertisent.
A sigh of relief slipped from Kyle as he lowered his gaze, silently thanking the manual.
Officer Gerald then signed beneath his notes and addressed Kyle in an indifferent tone:
"You have been accepted. You have passed all required procedures and are now a mber of this settlent. But it is not free. A day’s stay here costs one essence core. If you have a beast essence core at Stage One, you may pay with that. Since you are under twenty-one, you will be assigned to the teenagers’ quarter, where you will undergo training and other lessons will be given. Soone will escort you to your room, and the remaining rules will be explained along the way. Understood?"
Kyle answered with quick agreent.
At the sa ti, a new realisation struck him.
He now understood why scavengers stayed in the Green Zone when a safe zone such as this was within reach.
The costs were heavy, and freedom was limited, which made the choice far from simple.
Furthermore, in order to et the daily fee, residents were forced to hunt beasts constantly, not only to secure essence cores for paynt but also to provide for other necessities, since essence cores were the sole currency in the fallen world, with barter trade serving only as a secondary thod.
But such could not be used within the settlent.
Kyle cast a sidelong glance at his bag and gave a muted, weary chuckle.
At present, he possessed only thirty-seven essence cores, enough to sustain him for thirty-seven days here, though he had no intention of surrendering them all at once.
...He remained uncertain about the breakthrough, and it was not a decision he was ready to make yet.
Perhaps he might learn sothing during his ti here.
’...Ho sweet ho.’
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