Chapter 10 – A New Training Arc Begins
Nation: Great Void Nation (Ranked Second in the World)
Date: 35/5/670 – Void Calendar
Location: City No. 87 (Low-Tier District), Slums
Apartment Building 5 – Room 67
First Person POV – May Blackheart
I sat calmly on the worn couch as I organized the documents I had spent the entire morning retrieving from every possible hiding place inside the apartment. The previous owner of this body had not believed in systematic storage. The birth certificate had been folded twice and shoved behind a loose panel in the kitchen drawer. The health reports were hidden inside an old cooking pot beneath the sink. Educational records had been crammed between the springs of the bed frame as if they were contraband.
For a brief moment, I genuinely wondered who separated official documents across half a dozen drawers instead of placing them in one secure location. It would have been logical, efficient, and significantly less frustrating.
I exhaled slowly and forced myself back on topic.
The reason I needed every document was simple. The Night Watchers were not foolish. They did not allow nameless slum residents to walk into their entrance examination on nothing more than confidence. Identity verification, health screening, and citizenship records were mandatory. Anyone who failed that stage never even reached the combat arena.
After carefully flattening the creases, I placed each document into a proper file folder I had purchased from a nearby store. The plastic was cheap, slightly translucent, but functional.
At that moment, the familiar translucent interface of Cellular Adaptation appeared before my vision.
"Night Watchers Examination Structure," the text read.
"Phase One: Combat Evaluation.
Phase Two: Void Control Test.
Phase Three: Mental Resistance Test.
Phase Four: Team Coordination Assessment.
Phase Five: Beast Suppression Trial."
Additional lines formed beneath.
"The first phase evaluates both Physical and Mental Star System users. The second phase primarily examines Mental Star System control efficiency. The third phase assesses resistance thresholds required for higher Star levels. The fourth and fifth phases are conducted across a two-month probationary evaluation period."
I allowed myself a faint smile. Having Cellular Adaptation summarize information saved me from manually sorting through the vast reservoir of inherited basic knowledge. The so-called "basic package" I had received was absurdly extensive. It included foundational theory on Void mechanics, Star System evolution, beast classification charts, and even outdated city infrastructure records. Sifting through it without assistance would have been exhausting.
"Efficient as always," I murmured.
"I aim to reduce cognitive burden," Cellular Adaptation replied.
The Night Watchers were my best option. Slum resources were insufficient for proper Star System growth. Training grounds were overcrowded, equipment was scarce, and police patrols had recently increased their presence in the lower districts. Advancement required structure, and structure required affiliation.
Once everything was aligned and sealed in the folder, I stood up and locked the apartment behind me. The hallway smelled faintly of rust and stale air. Nothing unusual.
Outside, sunlight spilled across the cracked pavement. The warmth against my skin registered, but it did not sting or irritate. Heat Resistance handled minor environmental stressors automatically. I was dressed in simple but presentable clothing: a fitted dark-gray jacket with reinforced seams along the shoulders, a black high-collared shirt beneath it, durable trousers, and boots with hardened soles. The material was inexpensive but practical, and the darker tones subtly complemented the faint aura that occasionally leaked from me when I lost focus. I had also tied my hair back neatly, allowing my features to appear sharper and less like those of a neglected slum girl.
Appearances mattered.
I had grown slightly taller over the past few weeks. Improved nutrition and increased Void absorption had accelerated physical development. The funds I had obtained earlier—though sourced through less-than-legal means—had ensured consistent meals. Muscle density had increased, and my posture was straighter. The reflection in broken shop windows no longer resembled a starving child.
As I walked toward the upper city transit route, a massive public screen displayed recorded footage from a recent police funeral. The police chief stood rigid behind a podium, delivering a speech about sacrifice and duty. Uniformed officers lined both sides of the caskets.
I felt nothing at first.
Then the camera shifted.
Two small children clung desperately to the coffin of a woman in uniform, their faces twisted in grief as they tried to hold onto someone who would never respond again.
Something tightened inside my chest.
I had killed her.
The realization did not crush me, but it lingered. The emotion was not regret in its purest form. It was recognition. Acknowledgment that actions produced consequences beyond the battlefield.
I turned my gaze away and continued walking.
"What is done is done," I muttered under my breath.
The translucent screen appeared again.
"Host is exhibiting increased emotional responsiveness," Cellular Adaptation stated. "Probable cause: completed Soul–Body Merge. Emotional regulation barriers partially normalized."
I blinked several times as I processed the information.
So that was it.
I was not becoming weaker. I was becoming more human.
"I support the 'human' interpretation," Cellular Adaptation added.
"I did not request commentary," I replied flatly.
"You posed an internal query."
"…You can read my thoughts?"
"Only those directed with sufficient cognitive amplitude."
"Good to know," I said slowly. "I will refine my internal monologue."
Thirty minutes later, the slums gave way to cleaner streets and reinforced architecture. The Night Watchers' headquarters came into view.
It was not merely a building. It was a tower.
The structure rose high into the sky, its surface constructed from dark alloy panels reinforced with Void-conductive veins. Massive anti-air cannons were mounted along multiple tiers, angled upward to target aerial Void Beasts. Energy conduits pulsed faintly along the exterior like glowing arteries.
For a brief moment, I stared upward in silence.
"So this is where my future taxes will go," I muttered. "Assuming I ever pay taxes."
"Statistically unlikely in the immediate future," Cellular Adaptation replied.
I entered the tower and ignored the glances from passersby. My presence was not intimidating, but it was unusual. Slum residents rarely walked confidently into the upper city's military institutions.
After asking for directions twice, I reached the examination registration desk. A long counter separated applicants from uniformed officials scanning documents with handheld verification devices.
As I waited in line, a thought crossed my mind.
Who would be foolish enough to submit legal documents at the last possible minute before an exam?
"The answer is the host," Cellular Adaptation responded instantly.
I remained silent.
"You did pose a question," it added.
"…Noted."
Before stepping forward, I lowered my voice slightly.
"Have you contained the power leakage from when I partially activated Shadow God Domain?"
"Yes," Cellular Adaptation replied. "Energy suppression was stabilized prior to departure."
"Good."
When my turn came, I stepped forward and placed the file onto the counter.
The official looked at me briefly before opening it.
Behind my calm expression, something stirred—not fear, not excitement, but anticipation.
This was the first official step.
A new training arc was about to begin.