Showing Off

Karen saw Richard hobbling out with his medical examination form in hand, toes turned outward. "What happened?" "Didn't you have your rear checked? She said it's standard procedure, strictly mandatory, no skipping steps." "Oh, right." "It hurt so damn much—felt like someone grabbed a rag with both hands and ripped it apart. I swear I even heard a tearing sound." "Let's head to the next station." "Walk slower, walk slower... ow, ow, ow, hisss..." They proceeded through five more examination rooms in a row, all covering physical assessments. Karen glanced at his own scores across the six categories; they hovered mostly between four and five. In a civilian hospital, this score would classify a person as in good health. In a knight order hospital, however, it meant failing physical fitness, where the passing threshold was six. With a medical report like this, one couldn't even apply for most branches of the knight order, limited only to the few roles with no physical requirements. Richard, on the other hand, scored mostly sevens and eights. He looked at his own form, then at Karen's, his eyes filling with bewilderment. "Is your physical conditioning really that average?" Richard wasn't being sarcastic; he was genuinely astonished. In his mind, Karen was exceptionally fierce in battle. Though Ventura and Bart usually held the front lines, Richard felt that whenever Karen stepped up, he radiated an even greater sense of security than Bart and the others ever did. It was simply a perceptual bias from those around him; Richard hadn't realized that Karen relied entirely on magical enhancements in every fight. "I've been focusing on training lately. I can only say I wasted too much time in the past, so changes have to come gradually. But are you sure your conditioning wasn't just beaten into shape by your father?" "Heh, if I didn't have a solid build, my dad would've beaten me to death long ago." Just then, Alfred and Memphis walked over. The next examination was "Internal Bodily Probe," which Karen understood to be something akin to a full-body scan. Inside the room stood a doorway forged from a silver material. Before stepping through, examinees were required to leave any special artifacts outside. Karen was the first to walk through. The doorway produced no reaction, and his report printed out as completely normal. In truth, his body harbored plenty of unusual things, but they were intangible existences, with no risk of being detected by a scan like this. When Richard stepped through, the doorway flashed. "What do you have inside your body?" asked the veteran military doctor conducting the exam. "It isn't very large, possesses life signs, and is quite docile." Karen figured that if not for the "docile" label, the doctor's attitude wouldn't be anywhere near this cordial. Richard answered, "It's a protective talisman my grandfather gave me. His name is Jerry, a cute little silkworm. Sadly, I can't summon him out on command, or else I'd invite you to admire him." "Is your grandfather a member of our church?" "Yes, of course." "Which division?" The old doctor pushed up his spectacles. "You don't look like you belong to the knight order." "The array formation division? What was the department's name again?" "You don't even remember where your own family works?" "They just reorganized and renamed it. Oh, I remember now—it's called the York City Region Special Hub Management Department." "Special Hub Management Department?" The old doctor mulled over the name. He had no idea what a "Hub Management Department" did, but he recognized the word "Special." Across the various systems and departments within the church, anything bearing the prefix "Special" was never simple. "And your family member's position?" "Jurist." "Oh. What about your father?" With both grandfather and grandson serving the church, it was unlikely there was a skipped generation in between. "Jurist." "Oh? And your mother?" "Jurist." The old doctor froze. He tapped the form before him with a finger and said, "For this category, I can only give you a rating of 'Near Normal.' I'll add an endorsement clause for you. Have your grandfather or father issue an official requisition from their department to this hospital, and it can be updated to 'Normal.'" "Oh, alright. Thank you, sir." "You're welcome." After stepping outside upon finishing the checkup, Richard yawned. He didn't take the matter seriously at all, having no real need for a complete medical form anyway. "When you get back, have your dad issue that official requisition for you," Karen said. "Why bother wasting the effort?" Richard asked, puzzled. "Since it was detected, see it through to the end. Don't leave any special annotations behind. You know full well that the bug you swallowed can't see the light of day, and some of the unique abilities you currently possess were granted by it. Can you guarantee you'll never use them in front of others in the future? "Now that you have this chance, whitewash its origins completely. That way, unless someone dissects you later, no one will ever be able to use it against you." "Oh, right. But I can't go to my grandfather," Richard mused. "Don't be fooled by how my grandmother bullies him all the time; he's actually very rigid. If I don't bring it up to him, he can turn a blind eye, but the moment I approach him myself, his principles will force him to make me spill everything. "I don't really care about myself, but I'm afraid of dragging you into it, Karen. You helped me and gave me such a good thing; I can't turn around and implicate you. That's not how brothers treat each other. Hell, even an enemy would have too much shame to do something like that." "Leave it at that for now, then." Karen glanced at Memphis, who had just stepped out from the room. His earlier words had been meant for Memphis as much as for Richard. Memphis gave Karen a nod and said, "No problem on my end." Richard continued agonizing over the issue: "This is tricky, though. My grandfather is bound by principle, but if I go to my dad and he finds out I have a bug inside me that accelerates wound healing, he'll definitely beat me even harder from now on." Karen glanced at Richard, turning away with a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You swallowed that bug right in front of your father's eyes. Whenever he beats you, he's already factored its regenerative capabilities into the equation. The final part of the physical examination was a blood test. It wasn't explicitly stated on the medical form; the entry was merely labeled "Physical Potential Assessment." Only when Karen walked up to the doorway and saw the floating red crystal orb inside did he understand how the test was actually conducted. Here came the problem: could his blood safely be submitted for testing? Karen remembered vividly that his blood had once forcefully driven out the parasites lurking inside Ophelia and Bernard. At this point, claiming there was nothing abnormal about his blood would be nothing short of self-deception. Should he end the examination right now? Leaving was entirely an option, as completing every item wasn't necessary or mandatory. They weren't actually enlisting, after all. Yet Karen knew he badly needed this medical report. He had to complete the entire procedure and secure the final stamp. After undergoing Orderization, the traces belonging to Raniedal in his body ought to have vanished. His family's second dog, Lord Dal, hadn't recognized him in the world behind the door either. So, was it worth the gamble? Three doctors were stationed inside: one drew blood, one operated the crystal orb, and one wrote the final evaluation report. The others went up one by one, each receiving their respective assessments. Richard stepped forward to have his blood drawn. When his sample was placed beneath the crystal orb, the orb rotated slightly. The veteran doctor overseeing the station looked at Richard in surprise, smiling. "Your physical potential is very high, young man. Truly full of vitality." "Really? Thank you! Heh heh." Richard beamed with delight. "Young Master, shall I go take the test first?" Alfred asked, leaning close to Karen. "You?" Karen was somewhat surprised. Alfred had no need to see it through to completion. If Richard merely had a minor loophole to patch, Alfred's background as an aberrant demon was practically riddled with flaws. "I should be fine. Aside from my eyes, my physical form is essentially identical to a normal human's—not like Lady Molly's condition. Allow me to test how sensitive that device is first. Even if something goes wrong and my aberrant demon identity is exposed, I carry the work permit issued by you, Young Master, under Mr. Pavaro's name. There are plenty of aberrant demons serving the Church of Order as Order priests. It wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary, would it?" "Very well. You go ahead, then." "Understood, Young Master. In fact, I am quite looking forward to it." Karen knew what Alfred meant by that. Not long after arriving in Wien, Alfred had ceased giving off any discernible aberrant demon aura. Compared to Karen, the object of veneration, Alfred was far more impassioned and devoted as the worshiper, continuously steeping himself in an atmosphere that Karen himself could scarcely match. Alfred didn't simply wish to wash away his aberrant demon identity; what he sought was the manifestation of a miracle upon himself, bolstered by faith. Once Memphis finished his turn, Alfred stepped forward to have his blood drawn. When the sample was placed beneath the crystal orb, an expectant expression appeared on Alfred's face. "Very high physical potential. Truly enviable." A radiant smile instantly broke across Alfred's face. "Thank you, Doctor." Seeing Alfred pass, Karen pressed his lips together, walked forward, and bared his arm. The doctor drawing blood shook his head. "In all my years testing men, this is genuinely the first time I've seen skin this fine." Karen could only offer a polite smile in return. The blood draw finished, and the sample was placed beneath the crystal orb. Karen gazed calmly at the crystal orb, though tension tightened inside his chest. He felt a twinge of regret—regretting that he hadn't decisively backed away the moment he learned what this test entailed, avoiding the risk altogether. If anything abnormal showed up in his blood, his current identity might be dismantled on the spot. Yet that regret was fleeting. It existed, but was powerless to shake his resolve. Could this courage be a byproduct of Orderization? Adjusting his mindset, Karen quickly regained his composure. Face it squarely; it wasn't the end of the world. The result arrived. Karen figured it had likely succeeded, as the crystal orb produced no strange phenomenon. Logically, only two outcomes were possible: either completely normal, or... wildly abnormal. The doctor handling the report glanced at Karen, frowning slightly. Hm? A problem? Yet the doctor's expression didn't look quite right for that. "Karen, is it?" "Yes." "The name sounds familiar. Karen Silva..." The doctor studied the name, then looked Karen over. "Are you the Karen who entered the Gate of Samsara?" "That's me." "Your physical potential ranks as decent among ordinary civilians, but in our hospital... to be frank, you should pay more attention to nourishing your health." "Understood. Thank you, sir." Karen took the report. Even though the doctor had essentially diagnosed him as physically frail, he was thoroughly satisfied. Completing the physical examinations meant clearing the broad category most likely to expose him. As for the subsequent major categories—Soul and Faith—Karen had virtually nothing to fear. His soul was beyond reproach; after all, he had even draped a divine robe over his own grandfather. As for faith, who could possibly determine that his devotion wavered? He had already begun preaching and spreading doctrines himself. "No wonder Grandmother said you had a frail constitution and kept brewing soup to nourish you," Richard remarked. "Turns out you really are frail." "Is there a problem with that?" "No, no problem at all. Just surprised. You know, in my eyes, you were practically omnipotent, exceptional in every conceivable way." Karen chuckled. Richard's words served as a useful reminder. He needed to produce a plausible medical report, but if every single metric came out mediocre, that would be the greatest anomaly of all. It would practically broadcast to any prominent figures investigating his background in the future that the document was forged! Furthermore, it would defeat the purpose entirely. Instead of solidifying his background, the report would only amplify their suspicions. Therefore, in the remaining two categories... Faith was out of the question. Although every church prioritized faith and loyalty to the gods in their propaganda, would high-ranking figures truly believe that his towering talents stemmed purely from devout reverence toward the God of Order? That left only the soul. In the upcoming soul examinations, he had to secure a genuinely high evaluation to provide a coherent explanation for his abilities. The first test in the soul assessment was soul strength. In the center of the room sat a porcelain vat embedded into the floor, flanked by an array of measurement instruments. The liquid within was naturally not ordinary water, but a crystalline substance with a jelly-like consistency. Memphis entered first. Following instructions, he crouched down and immersed his palm into the vat. Soon, violent ripples broke across the surface. Two military doctors sat nearby calling out readings, while a third recorded the final rating. When Memphis withdrew his hand and stood up, the recording doctor asked, "Array formation master?" It was an occupational habit of theirs; examinees with exceptional soul strength were generally recommended toward the array master specialization. Memphis nodded. "Haven't joined the knight order?" "No." "What a pity." After voicing his regret, the doctor seemed to realize something. He rose to his feet and handed the form to Memphis with both hands. Someone possessing this level of soul strength at such an age, even outside the knight order, would undoubtedly hold a significant rank in other departments. He warranted proper respect. Next came Richard. When he placed his hand into the vat, gentle ripples fanned across the surface. The doctor handed Richard his slip, saying, "Very good." "Thank you." Memphis let out a soft sigh. For someone of the Guman family bloodline, a soul strength rated merely as "very good" was practically a waste of his heritage. Ashley and the others arrived after finishing their other checkups. Muri and Ventura stepped up to Karen. Ventura said, "Captain, I was delayed for ages at the blood test. I have to go back and get my headmaster to issue a background certificate for me." Ventura had encountered the same hurdle Richard faced earlier. The doctors here were worldly and experienced, entirely accustomed to examinees bearing peculiarities, but the explanatory paperwork had to be observed. Otherwise, they couldn't directly certify him as passed. Demanding verification from an adequately ranked authority was simply their way of deflecting liability. Alfred said to Ventura, "As long as your devotion is deep enough, before long, you will become indistinguishable from a normal person." He himself was an aberrant demon, yet his blood composition at a knight order hospital had tested as completely human. That alone was the finest proof! Ventura blinked, stared at Alfred, and then nodded vigorously. The young boy now held absolute trust and obedience toward Karen, rivaling even Alfred in his devotion. Muri asked, "Captain, have you taken the test yet?" Karen glanced toward Ashley and the others currently undergoing the assessment, shaking his head. "You go ahead first. I'll take the rear. In a moment, I'll aim to break the testing equipment." "Ahem..." Muri coughed dryly. "I see. We understand." Standing beside the door, Karen watched his subordinates test one after another. Having finished, Ashley and the others didn't leave either, lingering to wait for Karen's results. Richard whispered to Blanche, "Why didn't you stay to watch during the Captain's physical exam?" Blanche replied as if stating the obvious, "We cannot possess the Captain's body." Ashley chimed in, "But we can possess the Captain's soul." Richard shrugged. "Makes sense." It was Philomena's turn. When she dipped her hand into the vat, the liquid inside began churning like ocean waves crashing against a shore. Every doctor in the room stood up in astonishment. One doctor grabbed a slip of paper from his desk and hurled it; it instantly transformed into a black crow and flew out. Moments later, a department director rushed in with two deputy directors. Taking in the sight within the vat, their jaws dropped in unison. Philomena grew impatient and asked, "Are you done yet?" "Done, done, quite done!" Philomena pulled her hand out and stood up. The director stepped forward, offering a business card. "Consider joining the knight order's array formation corps! I can personally guarantee that you will—" "Not interested." Philomena offered a frigid reply, then walked outside. As she brushed past Karen, she paused, casting him a glance tinged with defiance. Karen met her gaze, and she promptly looked away. In truth, Karen had never personally mistreated her, but the ostracization and exclusion from the group had left a deep mark on Philomena's psyche. She didn't fear physical violence from Karen; what she dreaded was the emotional banishment and alienation he imposed upon her. With everyone else finished, it was finally Karen's turn. Karen sighed, offering a wry smile to Alfred beside him. "Looks like this time, I really have to *zhuangbi*." When he first met Alfred, Karen had been unfamiliar with his new environment and occasionally slipped in new phrases from his past life. In the early days, Alfred had tried to decipher and grasp that ancient, mysterious language by recording those novel words. For a long stretch afterward, once Karen grew accustomed to the local culture and language, he had ceased doing so. Lately, however, impressed by Alfred's linguistic grasp, Karen had become willing to toss out occasional Chinese expressions when speaking with him. Partly it was to indulge Alfred's voracious thirst for knowledge, and partly it was simply amusing. In this world, having someone with whom he could converse in his mother tongue was an irreplaceable form of comfort. As Karen walked inside, Alfred immediately produced his small notebook, swiftly jotting down the word's pronunciation with his fountain pen before plunging into scholarly contemplation. *The word 'zhuang' likely means to lift up, put down, install, or set in place... displaying something, presenting it, laying it bare... could its extended meaning be 'manifestation'?* *But what does the following syllable signify?* Watching Karen's receding figure and connecting it to what the Young Master was about to do, sudden enlightenment struck Alfred. He wrote: *This word signifies nobility, elegance, solemnity, and sanctity!* Alfred's heart pounded against his ribs. Such an exalted term—vastly superior to his own *Sao*! *Whew...* *I wonder when the Young Master will bestow this word upon me?* Karen stepped up to the porcelain vat, crouched down, and slowly submerged his hand. No holding back. Full soul power unleashed. Karen closed his eyes, and the Eye of Order spun into motion! At that moment, the other doctors and the director had all hurried toward the door to intercept Philomena, desperate to keep trying to recruit the girl with such terrifying talent. Only a single doctor remained, absently holding Karen's form, his gaze still fixed on the corridor outside. After a moment, he glanced down, only to find the gauges hadn't moved an inch, and the water's surface lacked even the faintest ripple. "This won't do at all—" Just as the doctor moved to write his evaluation, he froze. Wait, how could there be no reaction whatsoever? This group had clearly arrived together, all of them priests. No matter what, there should at least be a few ripples. It couldn't possibly be this dead still, or how could he cast spells in the first place? Then he noticed that none of the examinees who had already finished were leaving. They all stood clustered at the doorway, watching intently with undisguised anticipation in their eyes. Even the girl who had walked out earlier had turned back toward the entrance, forcing the director and colleagues to follow her return. The doctor bent lower, intending to inspect whether something was wrong with the dials and measurement gauges. Just as he leaned forward, a sudden pressure boxed his ears, followed by a violent splash and a spray of ceramic shards. *Boom!* The porcelain vat shattered.