Five days later, a thick stack of documents was delivered into Chen Chuan's hands. Gao Ming had arranged for dedicated personnel from Mi's Law Firm to drive it over personally, guarding against the files being opened and leaked in transit.
After signing for the delivery and bidding a polite farewell to the firm's clerk, Chen Chuan returned to his room. Using a knife, he pried open the outer seal, sliced through the inner envelope, and withdrew the neatly bound dossier.
He leafed through it carefully. Resting at the very top was the record of the commoner student who had secured a recommendation to Center City. Whether this person possessed some other hidden backing or was truly as simple as what appeared on the surface was something Gao Ming was still verifying; the outcome remained unknown for now.
Besides this, there were brief profiles on the recommended students from the various academies, just as Gao Ming had mentioned before.
With all of this in hand, he could take it to Cheng Zitong to discuss whether to take the defense license assessment early. It was precisely because Gao Ming understood this that he had prepared everything so thoroughly.
Yet the most important item in the pile was another case file Gao Ming had provided: an incident from two years ago involving Lei Fang, Director of the Yangzhi City Esoteric Cult Examination Bureau.
The Esoteric Cult Examination Bureau was the agency responsible for auditing and regulating various esoteric sects. Because native sects within the Republic of Great Shun had long been subjected to suppression and dismantlement, most had long since been broken up and absorbed. Many of them now retained only an empty title or possessed a scattering of ancient rituals and knowledge handed down through generations, wielding little real hold over their followers.
As a result, the Esoteric Cult Bureau mainly dealt with foreign esoteric cults and their adherents who had made their way into the country. It normally maintained a very low profile; had the file not brought it up, Chen Chuan wouldn't even have remembered that Yangzhi City had such an agency.
The case itself wasn't complicated, but it was fraught with bizarre, sinister undertones.
Two years ago, Director Lei was accused by his ex-wife of performing an evil ritual on their child. The accusation was grave indeed—for the director of the Esoteric Cult Examination Bureau to conduct a cult ritual! Higher authorities quickly dispatched a special investigator to look into the matter.
Director Lei maintained that he hadn't done anything to his son; the child's condition was the result of retaliation by cultists, and he had simply been trying everything to save his son's life.
The legal team representing Director Lei at the time had been none other than Mi's Firm. Thanks to the skillful defense mounted by the firm's solicitors, Director Lei was ultimately cleared of all charges.
Yet the matter didn't end there. Due to the fallout, the ex-wife's family fought hard and reclaimed custody of the boy. But disaster struck again: a mere half-month later, the former Mrs. Lei met a bizarre death.
Her family wielded substantial influence as well. Suspecting that Director Lei had secretly orchestrated her death, they pressed further charges against him.
Mi's Firm took on the case once again. Following thorough investigation, not a shred of evidence was found linking the death to Director Lei, and he was cleared once more.
Afterward, Director Lei took the child back into his care. His political backing was clearly formidable; even after enduring both scandals, he remained securely in his post as director, his position seemingly unaffected.
While reviewing the archives, Gao Ming had also discovered many bizarre, inexplicable signs on Director Lei's son, faintly bearing the hallmarks of an urban legend.
This Director Lei had extensive influence and had occupied the director's seat for over a decade. In the course of their dealings with him, the firm found him to be the sort who drew clear lines between debts of gratitude and grievances. Gao Ming believed that if they could help resolve the problem afflicting his son, they might just secure a recommendation and evaluation from the Esoteric Cult Examination Bureau.
Of course, this suggestion had only come about because Chen Chuan had mentioned Cheng Zitong's backing. If Chen Chuan were on his own, he likely wouldn't have possessed the ability or knowledge to resolve it, even if he knew about it.
Having read through all this, Chen Chuan leaned back in his chair and pondered. There was a lot entangled in this affair, and he couldn't take anything for granted, nor could he rely solely on what was written in the case files.
Furthermore, Director Lei was, after all, the head of a government department; he wasn't someone Chen Chuan could just approach casually. An introduction from someone of appropriate standing would be necessary.
He glanced at the dossier on the desk a few more times, neatly gathered the papers, and slipped them back away. It seemed he would have to wait until school started before having a serious, thorough talk with his instructor, Cheng Zitong.
Ten days slipped by in a flash. The holiday had drawn to a close, and the new term was at hand. Chen Chuan arrived at the academy two days early, carrying his suitcase.
He wasn't alone; most students chose to arrive early as well. Feng Xiaoqi, Luo Kaiyuan, and the others had all come ahead of time. Only the occupant of the final dorm room remained unseen.
On the final day before classes officially began, the dorm supervisor went door to door knocking, calling out from the corridor, "Seventh floor, students from Districts 1 to 4, step outside for a moment. The academy has an announcement."
Hearing this, Chen Chuan pushed open his door and walked out. Just then, the doors across the hall swung open as well. Zhuang Zhi, Feng Sheng, and the others living there stepped into the corridor. After exchanging a few glances, they walked forward on their own.
Aside from Wei Dong, all the residents of the opposite dorms had joined the Mutual Aid Society, belonging either to the Grappling Division or the Weapons Division. Consequently, there was seldom any interaction between them, maintaining a state of mutual non-interference.
Wei Dong, however, walked over to Chen Chuan's side and fell into step with them quite naturally, making it seem as if they were the ones who truly belonged to the same dorm group.
The four of them walked to the communal training ground in the middle of the seventh floor. Once all the students who had arrived on this floor were assembled, the dorm supervisor announced, "I have a few notices for everyone. A group of exchange students from Maka has arrived recently, and they've been housed in the upper-level dormitories.
"These students are here for academic exchange, and they'll also take part in goodwill ceremonies organized by the Municipal Administration. Foreign customs differ from ours, so if they step out of line, don't engage. The instructors will step in to supervise and handle things."
The students weren't surprised to hear this. Such things happened regularly in the past. The Republic of Great Shun's fighting arts ranked among the very top tier worldwide, and foreign exchange students visited often.
Maka was merely an island nation in the ocean, quite small, with a population of only a little over a million. It maintained friendly ties with the Republic of Great Shun, however, sending delegations every year or two for exchange and study.
Moreover, it was said that over three hundred years ago, many Maka people had settled right here on this land, though most had long since integrated into the Republic of Great Shun. For instance, there were several instructors at the academy who possessed Maka ancestry.
Chen Chuan's heart stirred, however. When reading through the materials earlier, he had learned that the Flying Head Cult had actually originated as an esoteric cult of the Maka people. With flying heads appearing so frequently of late, was the arrival of a Maka exchange delegation at this exact moment purely a coincidence?
As he pondered this, Zhuang Zhi suddenly spoke up. "Sir, if these foreign students get into a conflict with us and an instructor isn't around, can we fight back?"
The dorm supervisor frowned as he looked at him. "Conflict? As Wuyi students, can't you exercise some restraint? All you think about is solving problems with force? We are the hosts; we cannot go around bullying guests. When you need to endure, you must endure."
Feng Xiaoqi's eyes lit up with an idea, and he asked, "Sir, what if it's a mutual sparring match? Do we need to hold back?"
The dorm supervisor looked at him oddly and said, "If it's a sparring match, shouldn't you demonstrate your genuine skill? Otherwise, wouldn't the exchange students have come for nothing? Wouldn't that be a lack of respect toward them?"
"Oh..."
The students exchanged glances, a tacit understanding passing between them. A student chimed in, "Right, right, we have to show them proper respect."
The dorm supervisor then handed each of them a form, instructing them to evaluate the instructors of the public lectures and invitation classes they had attended in the previous semester.
Chen Chuan took the form, quickly ticked off a few boxes, and handed it back.
In truth, he had attended only a single public lecture and invitation class the previous year. Still, at least he had shown up. The student in the vacant dorm room next door hadn't attended a single one—in fact, the person might never have set foot on campus at all. Where that person took midterm and final exams was anyone's guess.
Once business was concluded, the dorm supervisor walked away on his own. The students dispersed as well, some of them chatting among themselves about just what caliber these exchange students were, while others contemplated approaching them actively to see what foreign martial arts were like.
Chen Chuan walked back alongside Feng Xiaoqi, Luo Kaiyuan, and Wei Dong. After chatting for a bit along the way, they parted to return to their respective rooms. Wei Dong headed toward his own room as well.
At that moment, Zhuang Zhi and his two companions returned as well. Zhuang Zhi suddenly turned his head and said, "Wei Dong, you spend all your time hanging around the guys across the hall. Did you forget which group you belong to? Why don't you just move over to their side? There's still an empty room over there anyway—wouldn't that be perfect?"
Wei Dong replied, "No need. It's only a few steps away."
Feng Sheng chuckled coldly. "No point talking to him about that." He tapped his own head. "Up here, he's..."
Wei Dong snapped his gaze to him. "You insulting me?"
Feng Sheng said, "Oh? And what do you plan to do about it?"
Wei Dong bumped his fists together, eager to fight. "How about I beat you up? Or you can try beating me up—either works."
Feng Sheng narrowed his eyes.
Zhuang Zhi interjected, "Focus on what matters first." He glanced across the hall and added, "There'll be opportunities." Feng Sheng cast a glare at Wei Dong, then turned and went into his room.
Seeing that no fight was going to happen, Wei Dong was somewhat disappointed. Mumbling under his breath, he returned to his own room as well.
Back in his room, Chen Chuan took his medicine and began the day's training. His current objective was the peak of the First Limit.
Generally speaking, this was only a theoretical limit; humans were incapable of reaching this level. Human endurance had its bounds, and the more medicine one ingested or applied externally to stimulate the growth of mutated tissue, the greater the harm inflicted on one's own body.
Furthermore, using certain medicines repeatedly led to tolerance. For instance, the medicine he took regularly was yielding diminishing returns. Not to mention, he was not someone gifted with innate talent; to maintain rapid progress, he had used far more medicine than others.
With the current medicines growing less effective, he would inevitably have to transition to stronger, more potent formulations. The problem was that the academy kept strict controls over such drugs; to prevent students from rushing recklessly and harming themselves, they were not made available to lower-year students whose progress hadn't reached the required stage.
Even if Cheng Zitong were willing to procure some for him, the prices would be substantially higher, and the quantity wouldn't be large.
However, he had discovered another path: the stimulation urban legends provided to mutated tissue. Leaving aside the lingering, unidentified harm that adhered to the body, an urban legend's stimulation of mutated tissue far surpassed the efficacy of medicine.
Setting aside the cinema shade from before, in the three days following his elimination of the two flying heads, his Second Self had continuously blurred into insubstantiality, while a persistent power continuously stimulated the growth of his mutated tissue. Although the duration had been brief, those had merely been ordinary flying heads. If he were to encounter the true source of the flying heads, what would it be like then?
Chapter 112