"What? I get to pick a cha from this cha throne room?" I whispered back much louder than I had wanted to and earned an instant SHHH from Jeanette Wen.
"Why are we whispering?" I whispered to her.
"Because I dislike loud noises." An aged voice sounded softly but impossibly clearly. He must have used a sound technique of so sort for to be able to hear him.
I turned my head to peer into the distance, trying to ascertain where the voice ca from.
"Ancestor." Bruce Pang and Jeanette Wen bowed low and greeted the voice at the sa ti.
"Ancestor." I imdiately copied their action and bowed as well.
"Co closer." The aged voice said tiredly.
We quickly made our way forward and walked down the enormous central walkway with the chas staring down at us from our left and right.
It was such a huge room that even with our near-run walking speed, it still took us nearly three minutes to reach the front of the "throne room".
But apparently I was wrong in calling it a throne room. It was more like a ditation room, as there was no throne in that room. The only thing that greeted us at the very front of the massive room was an old man sitting quietly on a ditation mat.
A very regular looking old man with a slender physique, long white beard and basically white everything.
The thing about eting new people and making first impressions is that we very often go by whatever we sense about the other person in the first few seconds. And for people with experience, 6th sense or sharp instincts, they would also depend on input from those sources.
For a long ti, I had depended on my instincts to form accurate first impressions. It was crucial in my line of work - accurate first impressions on whether or not a person is a spy from a gang mber or truly another street rat like would determine which set of actions I would take, and which would lead to either life or death.
Judging from the fact that I am still alive, I consider myself a pretty good judge of character.
More recently, I had used my sharper than normal senses to read a person much more accurately than they probably had thought possible.
However, this old man was different.
I could not sense anything from him.
My 6th sense and instincts were silent, and my experiences were drawing a complete blank.
There was no sense of danger, no sense of warmth, or anything at all.
It was like he wasn't there.
A little bit of my surprise must have shown sohow, because the old man suddenly smiled and said, "You've gotten used to depending on your instincts for input. It's a bottleneck to your growth. Oh, it is an excellent achievent for a little boy like you, thousands would kill to be in your enviable position. But regardless of how enviable your situation is, it is a bottleneck nonetheless."
I could only nod dumbly and silently at his sudden words.
"You've brought a good seed this ti, Bruce. I assu he has t my minimum requirent of 95 RPL?" The old man glanced at Bruce.
"Yes, Ancestor." Bruce replied respectfully.
"Finally. The test starts in fifteen minutes. Prep him." The old man's eyes twinkled slightly as he looked at for a second before closing his eyes once more with a smile on his lips.
Bruce grabbed my hand and pulled to one side to explain the situation to .
"What is this, big bro? Are you making into a sacrificial lamb for so sort of cannibalistic cha cult?" I whispered loudly while looking at the old man.
I could clearly see the old man's lip twitch slightly.
"Haha! Great minds truly think alike! I thought of the sa thing as well when I was brought here many long years ago!" Bruce couldn't help but laugh.
"Great minds think alike, yes. But fools seldom differ." Jeanette Wen snorted. "I wonder which of the two categories you two fall under.
"This isn't a cult, little brother. This is a highly prestigious group of exceptional people entrusted with great power and the fulfilnt of a great and secret mission!" Bruce explained without explaining anything.
"That sounds exactly like what a cult recruiter would tell his new recruits." I muttered.
"Uhhh. Now that you ntion it. It does sound like a low class cult's recruitnt speech." Bruce Pang frowned lightly and muttered as well.
"We only have 14 minutes before Justin has to take the test. I suggest we drop the cult topic and focus on the main issue at hand." Jeanette Wen said impatiently.
"Right, right. Justin, pay attention now." Bruce Pang quickly turned serious.
I nodded and focused on him and his words.
"You've just completed the entrance test for the National cha Pilot Academy, and now you're officially a student here. What you're about to do can also be viewed as an entrance test, but into a secret and powerful organization within the National cha Pilot Academy.
Both Jeanette and I are senior mbers within this organization, while Grand Elder Shella whom you have just t is a junior mber.
We are called the Blood Moon, and we are the Academy's secret force." Bruce Pang explained.
"There are and can only be thirty six Blood Moons in the National cha Pilot Academy at any given ti, and these are their chas." Bruce pointed to the thirty six chas in the giant room.
"However, after the previous war which saw many of our senior and junior mbers die horribly in battle, the old man here had decided to raise the bar for recruitnt into the Blood Moon, and for many long years, our number had stagnated at 10 seniors and 17 juniors. If you pass today's test, you will be our 18th junior, and will be given one of the remaining eight cha Disciples."
"Huh?" I was totally confused. "But if this is a secret organization, why were ALL the elders so ecstatic? Do they all know?"
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