Wei Dong felt like every day was a year, every second an agony.
That damn radar lock-on warning was like a death summons, strangling him, leaving him breathless.
The alarm always blared when his nerves were stretched thinnest, just as he was trying to focus on navigating the complex terrain.
[WARNING! LOCKED ON BY FIRE-CONTROL RADAR!]
Three short seconds. No more, no less.
The mont the lock-on tone vanished, another cold, electronic voice followed.
[Ti Penalty: 5 seconds.]
"Bastard!"
Wei Dong’s fist slamd into the instrunt panel, making the screen flicker.
Before he could even catch his breath, that death-knell alarm once again tore through the cockpit’s silence!
[WARNING! LOCKED ON BY FIRE-CONTROL RADAR!]
Three seconds later, the lock disappeared again.
[Ti Penalty: 10 seconds.]
At that mont, Wei Dong finally understood the true aning of despair.
Han Feng’s fighter jet was like a ghost haunting the canyon; you never knew which rock’s shadow he would erge from next.
He never engaged head-on, never appeared in your field of view.
He would just wait for the mont your nerves were at their breaking point, then, from an angle you could never predict, his radar would pop out and tag you with precision.
The left.
The right.
Even from below you!
That BEEP-BEEP-BEEP of the lock-on tone had beco a demonic chant he couldn’t get out of his head.
He felt like he was being completely toyed with, running himself ragged in a maze without ever catching a glimpse of his opponent’s shadow.
His spirit was being crushed, inch by inch, by this precise and ruthless torture.
In the ground control room, a chill ran down the spines of all the spectating students.
"So dirty... That’s a tactic no sane person would co up with!"
"Is he even flying a jet? This is pure psychological warfare! Senior Wei Dong is being completely broken by him!"
"Look at the penalty ti! It’s already up to five minutes... and it’s still climbing!"
Even the perpetually calm Liu Cheng and Wang Kun found the corners of their mouths twitching uncontrollably.
They were incredibly thankful they had withdrawn early. Otherwise, it would be the three of them getting toyed with like monkeys in the sky right now.
Before the main console, Fan Jian’s eyes flickered, the depths of his pupils revealing a shock he couldn’t suppress.
Watching Han Feng’s phantom-like, taunting art of the hunt on the screen, he found his very definition of the word "genius" being rewritten for the first ti.
This was no longer a matter of skill.
This was absolute dominance over the battlefield!
「The assessnt was over.」
When the four Hunting Falcon jets landed in the hangar one by one, the atmosphere was incredibly strange.
Han Feng jumped down from his plane looking refreshed. He even stretched, his joints letting out a series of crisp pops and crackles.
’This flight increased my Cultivation quite a bit. It’s so much more efficient than just cooping myself up in the dorm to cultivate.’
Wei Dong, on the other hand, had to be half-dragged, half-supported out of his cockpit.
His eyes were unfocused, his face was ashen-white, and he kept muttering sothing no one could understand.
It was as if his soul had been ripped out, leaving only an empty shell behind.
All the students who had passed the first round stood in formation in the hangar. You could have heard a pin drop.
Fan Jian walked before the crowd, opened his personal terminal, and projected the final results onto a massive light screen.
[Sharp Sword Club Entrance Assessnt - Final Results]
[First Place: Han Feng.]
[Assessnt Ti: 7 minutes 13 seconds.]
[Penalty Ti: 0 seconds.]
[Interference Group Ti Reduction: 8 minutes 45 seconds.]
[Overall Evaluation: Perfect.]
[Second Place: Liu Cheng.]
[Assessnt Ti: 9 minutes 2 seconds.]
[Penalty Ti: 20 seconds.]
[Overall Evaluation: Excellent.]
[Third Place: Su Yue.]
[Assessnt Ti: 9 minutes 10 seconds.]
[Penalty Ti: 0 seconds.]
[Interference Group Ti Reduction: 5 seconds.]
[Overall Evaluation: Excellent.]
...
[Twelfth Place: Wei Dong.]
[Assessnt Ti: 15 minutes 24 seconds.]
[Penalty Ti: 8 minutes 45 seconds.]
[Overall Evaluation: Failed.]
The bright red word, "Failed," felt like three bloody whip marks, lashing viciously at Wei Dong’s already shattered dignity.
anwhile, Han Feng’s miraculous lines of data and the final, golden "Perfect" evaluation were so dazzling one could barely look at them.
The entire hangar was silent.
Everyone was completely stunned by the ridiculously unbelievable report card.
He broke the academy’s legendary two-year record.
As part of the interference group, he’d toyed with a Golden Three Stars ace pilot until he’d racked up over eight minutes in penalties.
And on top of it all, he received an unprecedented "Perfect" evaluation?
’Is that sothing a human being can even do?’
"Based on the assessnt results, a total of five people have passed."
Fan Jian’s voice broke the dead silence.
"Han Feng, Liu Cheng, Su Yue, Wang Qi, Zhou Yun."
"Congratulations. As of today, you are the new mbers of the Sharp Sword Club."
The faces of those whose nas were called lit up with irrepressible excitent and joy.
The eliminated students, however, wore looks of dejection and resentnt.
Wei Dong stared blankly at the results on the light screen, looking as if his soul had been completely drained away.
He had lost.
He had lost utterly and without a shred of dignity.
Everything he had taken pride in had been ground to dust before Han Feng’s absurd Talent.
The people around him watched him with a mixture of pity and fear.
’This guy... The blow probably shattered his Dao heart.’
"Did... Did Senior Wei Dong go crazy?"
"Was the shock too much for him? Did he just snap?"
The students exchanged glances, then, as if by silent agreent, they all turned to look at Han Feng as if he were a monster.
Han Feng shrugged innocently and spread his hands.
’You can’t bla for this. I just did to him exactly what he planned to do to .’
’He made the first move. Who else is there to bla?’
Fan Jian didn’t give the crowd much ti to gossip or reflect.
He ignored the eliminated students, his sharp gaze sweeping over the five new mbers.
"The five of you, follow ."
As soon as he finished speaking, he turned and walked toward a tal corridor deep in the hangar.
"Huh? We’re leaving now?"
"Didn’t they say to report the day after tomorrow?"
Wang Qi and Zhou Yun paused for a second, but seeing Fan Jian’s unarguable back, they imdiately followed.
Liu Cheng and Su Yue exchanged a glance and also hurried to catch up.
Han Feng walked at the rear, feeling dozens of complex gazes on his back—envy, jealousy, awe, confusion...
He didn’t care.
After passing through the long tal corridor, an even larger, more advanced underground hangar appeared before the five of them.
Hangar No. 7.
The air here was completely different from the turbid atmosphere of the Outer City, which was a mix of rust, machine oil, and acid rain.
Under the massive do, a climate control system maintained the temperature at a comfortable twenty-two degrees Celsius.
The floor was paved with high-strength, energy-absorbent material, so clean it reflected their figures.
The air was filled with the unique, fresh scent of high-grade maintenance fluid.
It was the sll of money.
The five new recruits who passed the assessnt stood in formation.
Fan Jian, dressed in a crisp black Flight Suit, held a tactical tablet, his gaze sweeping over the five of them like an infrared scanner.
"First of all, congratulations."
Fan Jian’s voice was still cold and hard. "The fact that you’re standing here ans you’re not completely useless, at least."
No one in the group spoke. The atmosphere was a bit tense.
"The Sharp Sword Club doesn’t support freeloaders. Getting in the door is just the beginning."
Fan Jian tapped on the tablet a few tis. "Next is the squad placent test. Afterward, you will be assigned to different teams based on your specialties."
After speaking, he looked up at Liu Cheng, who was at the front of the line.
"Liu Cheng, ridian Passage First Layer, Martial Arts Academy. What model did you bring?"
Liu Cheng straightened his back, his voice booming, "Sir! My family sponsored a Storm-2 heavy interceptor, which has had its Spiritual Energy Armor reinforced. It’s parked in slot B-12!"
Fan Jian nodded slightly. "The Storm-2. Sacrifices mobility for extre defense and firepower. It’s clumsy, but it serves as a decent firebase when confronting tough-skinned ground Demon Beasts like the Iron Armor Rhinoceros."
Next was Su Yue.
"Spiritual Energy Technology Academy, Su Yue."
Su Yue pushed up her glasses, her tone calm.
"I brought a modified ’Ghost’ reconnaissance plane. Considering the severe interference of the sky-mist on electronic signals, I’ve retrofitted it with a Spiritual Energy Resonance Imaging Device and a Biological Thermal Source Tracker."
A glint of approval flashed in Fan Jian’s eyes. "Very smart. In the sky-mist, traditional electronic warfare is blind. Only the Spiritual Power band can act as your eyes. The Club is in dire need of ’eyes’ like that, ones that can find monsters in the thick fog."
The remaining two, Wang Qi and Zhou Yun, also reported their aircraft.
While not as impressive as the first two, they were still proper combat-grade jets, and both had been modified to target the weaknesses of Demon Beasts.
This was the foundation students from the Inner City were built on. They didn’t just co prepared; they ca with top-tier supplies.
Finally, Fan Jian’s gaze fell on Han Feng.
"Han Feng."
Fan Jian looked at the freak who had broken the Club’s record just yesterday.
"Where is your plane?"
Everyone’s gaze instantly focused on Han Feng, like spotlights hitting his face.
Han Feng, standing at the end of the line, rubbed his nose awkwardly.
"Um..."
"I don’t have a plane."
The hangar was silent for several seconds.
Liu Cheng’s eyes went wide, as if he had just heard sothing unbelievable.
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