Although Michael wasn’t exactly jumping for joy at the idea of attending a ball with the strongest factions, especially in the presence of the Emperor, it seed his faction had little choice if they wanted to remain in the tournant.
After Francesca made it abundantly clear that the Emperor had insisted on the presence of all eight factions and at least the majority of their mbers, Michael entered the base.
What followed was a chorus of congratulations from the crew for his victory. Though, from their expressions, it was clear that they too had been caught off guard by the way the duel had concluded.
Once everyone had cald down, Michael shared the news about attending the ceremony. The reactions were mixed.
"This is my chance to score sothing juicy." Richard exclaid, sweeping his hair back. "Since everyone attending will be of high cultivation, there’s bound to be one or two hotties I can attract!"
Victoria frowned. "Surely the Golden Vanguard will be there... maybe so of my siblings as well."
Of course, Victoria wasn’t the only heir King Arthur had. She usually refrained from eting her so-called rivals for obvious reasons... Hopefully, being part of Michael’s faction, she wouldn’t be pressured by them anymore. Theoretically at least.
Claire smirked.
"We might as well see how the Heavenly Pact is doing without us."
Bryce nodded.
"Sunshine has a point. There are a few elders who would surely be there. I want to see how the old fools are doing..."
Ruby’s eyes sparkled like precious gems, and she began to drool.
"There’s going to be food and all you can eat buffet?! Then I have to go there, no matter what!"
Ava grinned mischievously.
"Truthfully, the idea of infuriating young masters, that soone like , without any prior ties to the political world, could rival them, sounds absolutely appalling."
More or less, everybody was on board with attending the ball. Since this was going to be such an extraordinary ceremony, they needed to submit certain paperwork to confirm that all of them were eligible to participate.
Which was why Victoria, entrusted with the task, grimaced after a certain period of ti, her gaze shifting toward Michael.
"Um, Michael? Have you perchance... never taken the ntal examination test?"
In response, Michael stared at her blankly.
The ntal examination test was mandatory for every soldier of humanity. However, unlike what most might think, it wasn’t conducted before enrollnt.
The examination took place a month after enrollnt, once basic training had concluded. The belief was that if soone found the initial training too difficult, they weren’t cut out to be a soldier.
In Michael’s case, he had never taken it... Not in either of his lives. In the first, the base he had been stationed on Triton, had been ruined, and he had passed under the radar. As for his second life, the chaos that erupted from the sudden alien invasion caused the sa thing to happen.
Funnily enough, due to his competence, everybody had assud he had passed it long ago, and no one had thought to check.
However, that wasn’t possible anymore. With no other choice, Michael had to go to a licensed therapist who was capable of conducting such an examination.
That was how he found himself in an old-fashioned room, sitting across from an older gentleman, with no facial hair except a gray handlebar mustache.
"Greetings, my na is Harold, your licensed therapist. Before we begin, may I ask why you have co here and why specifically to my office?"
A radiant smile, the kind that could lt the tension from anyone, tugged at the old man’s face as he took out his notebook.
Michael scratched the back of his head.
"I’ve co here for a ntal examination. As for why specifically you... it’s because you were the closest one to ."
Harold arched an eyebrow.
"I’m sorry for not being professional for a mont, but... you, Sir Michael, one of the rising stars of the cultivation world, haven’t undergone the examination test yet?" He asked, clearly surprised.
Michael coughed.
"Lots of things happened..."
Since this was a serious matter, Harold didn’t waste ti with the formalities, starting the examination.
"I see... in that case, worry not. The examination is quite simple. I will ask you a series of questions about your morals, beliefs, and how you would respond in hypothetical scenarios... nothing too scary. All you have to do is answer truthfully, and please be honest. These questions won’t probe you for weaknesses, but if I sense a lie, I will have no choice but to fail you."
The old man cleared his throat.
"Let’s begin. Have you recently been tornted by nightmares..."
The ntal examination lasted just shy of two hours.
"So..." Michael observed the old man in anticipation. "What do you think?"
Harold remained silent for a few seconds before letting out a heavy sigh.
"Keep in mind, you can always ask for a second opinion. But I must admit, it’s quite a complex profile... sothing I have never co across before. What my years of experience have concluded is as follows..."
He paused briefly.
"I diagnose you with a severe case of post-traumatic stress disorder, PTSD for short, generalized anxiety disorder, major depressive disorder, and survivor’s remorse. There are also signs of possible combat stress, hyper-responsibility, tendencies toward overcontrol, and emotional numbness, including clear detachnt from most mundane aspects of daily life. Also suffering from constant nightmares of the past, and hearing voices suggests a probable chance of schizophrenia."
Michael blinked.
"Sorry, what? Where did schizophrenia even co from?"
Harold t his gaze.
"Didn’t you say you often hear a voice that refuses to shut up?"
Michael shook his head, summoning Devil.
"No, no. I ant my soul weapon. You know, so have the tendency to... speak, right?"
Harold facepald himself.
"Oh, goodness gracious! I’m sorry. It’s just so rare for people to be in possession of such things, you see... I guess we can safely rule out schizophrenia, at least."
"Wonderful." Michael exclaid with a warm smile, clearly content. "So, what is the end result of the examination?"
"Oh, but of course! Let see..." Harold began to flip through his notebook.
"All things considered, you are currently categorized as SSS rank. A trendously dangerous and unpredictable individual. Who under no circumstances should be given any degree of power, lest a hellish disaster befall us all."
"..."
Michael blinked slowly.
"So... Do I pass?"
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