CR CH38

Chapter 38: The Wildwood Trial

The moonlight cast a thin layer of frost over the semi-transparent defense net as night training proceeded as scheduled.

After completing their physical conditioning tasks, the recruits followed the instructors at a steady jog, eventually coming to a halt in a completely unfamiliar zone.

To their side lay a vast expanse of sea, while the energy boundary lines ahead emitted a faint, cold glow. The dense, desolate woods were entirely devoid of light, and the silhouettes of the distant mountains loomed under the night sky like giant beasts looking down upon tiny humans.

Near the shore stood a warning sign with a faintly visible serial number, marking this as a brand-new live-combat simulation ground.

Flashing dots floated high in the air, representing micro-AI sprites linked to the surrounding energy grid to provide real-time monitoring and positioning. The instructors were currently gathered in a huddle, exchanging notes.

Not far away, a flight transport descended slowly, its silver-white hair instantly capturing everyone’s attention in the night scenery.

Ling Kongmiao wore a set of black combat fatigues. The sleek, minimalist gear perfectly accentuated his exceptional physique.

“Captain Ling.”

“Commander.”

Ling Kongmiao nodded in acknowledgment, then glanced sideways at You Li, gesturing for him to step forward.

You Li turned to question the instructors, “How are the preparations coming along?”

“Everything is ready,” one of the head instructors replied.

Ling Kongmiao walked up to the entrance. Sensing an approaching presence, a virtual screen materialized. As soon as he unlocked the access permissions, a red warning message popped up:

“Do you wish to activate Wildwood-PT09? Mental Interference Level 3.”

Ling Kongmiao tapped “Confirm.” In an instant, the appearance and layout of the entire forest underwent a rapid transformation.

A pale white energy swept across the area, shifting the landscape. In about two minutes, the physical environment reconstruction was complete.

As the energy dissipated, the forest appeared even deeper and more treacherous. The trees and undergrowth were no longer static; they now swayed gently with the wind. Following a series of rustling noises, waves of chilling roars echoed through the empty, desolate woods.

Ling Kongmiao raised his hand to press the earpiece at his side, his stable voice transmitting clearly into everyone’s ears.

“The trial begins.”

The raw recruits obviously froze for a second, but before they could even react, the ground beneath their feet suddenly gave way.

The solid earth vanished, replaced by a bottomless black hole. A chaotic chorus of yells cut off abruptly as the void swallowed everyone whole, after which the ground slowly reverted to its original state.

The sensation of weightlessness made them instinctively flail their hands, but there was nothing around them—even the sound of their own shouting vanished in an instant.

“Oof!” Caught completely off guard, Jiang Tianji crashed onto the ground and sat there in a daze for a moment.

Constantly transitioning between mental-link simulation combat and live-scene simulations built entirely out of energy stacks tended to breed an inexplicable sense of dread in one’s heart. Everything around him felt surreal, and the vision before his eyes grew distorted and blurry.

No, something’s wrong.

Sensing the dissonance, a flash of clarity returned to Jiang Tianji’s eyes. He forced himself to stand up, keeping his focus sharp to banish all stray thoughts until that alien wave of emotion finally dissipated.

He had faintly caught the broadcast mentioning “Mental Interference Level 3” just now, which was remarkably similar to what he had encountered during his previous actual combat experiences.

Roar—

Before Jiang Tianji could ponder further, the roar of a variant tore through his ears.

He instinctively drew the dagger from his combat trousers, scanning his surroundings warily. Feeling a subtle vibration beneath his feet, Jiang Tianji rolled toward a nearby patch of bushes.

Deep blue chains erupted from the ground, their tips curved into sharp hooks. Jiang Tianji narrowly escaped the strike, but a nearby tree wasn’t so lucky; it was enveloped by the chains and instantly ground into powder.

“…”

Brushing the leaves off his head, Jiang Tianji stared at the familiar chains, a distinct sense of foreboding rising in his chest.

A lithe figure leaped down from a tree not far away, making absolutely no sound. Ling Kongmiao stepped out of the shadows toward Jiang Tianji, casually uncoiling the whip hanging at his waist.

Jiang Tianji was utterly dumbfounded. Sensing the dangerous aura, he instinctively shrank back a step. “…Commander?”

“Three.”

Ling Kongmiao didn’t halt his pace. His gaze locked onto the hesitant figure crouching in place, the corners of his lips curling up slightly.

“Two.”

Finally realizing that this might be a literal death countdown, Jiang Tianji stopped worrying about the leaves on his head and bolted.

Ling Kongmiao didn’t give chase immediately, standing in place as he uttered the final count.

“One.”

His silver-white long hair cut through the air like a flash of lightning. His movements were so fast they left afterimages, catching up behind Jiang Tianji in a matter of seconds.

Chains erupted haphazardly from the ground, leaving Jiang Tianji with no room to lose focus. Several times, the icy energy constructs grazed his skin, leaving behind a stinging, burning pain that constantly stimulated his tightly coiled nerves.

Out of the corner of his eye, that white shadow loomed persistently, accompanied by the roars of variants echoing in his ears.

Jiang Tianji was so preoccupied with dodging the variants that a momentary lapse in attention caused him to be clipped by a chain, throwing him off balance.

Swoosh—

A sharp, ear-piercing rush of air sounded from behind. Maintaining his falling posture, Jiang Tianji used the momentum to dive behind a thick tree.

With a massive crash, the tree collapsed violently. Jiang Tianji threw a backward glance at the tragic state of the fallen trunk, a wave of shock crashing through his mind.

He’s playing for keeps? Is it even possible to survive a single strike from that whip?

“Commander!” he couldn’t help but shout, attempting to appeal to the man’s humanity.

But Ling Kongmiao clearly had no intention of staying his hand; the chains and the whip lashed out at him simultaneously.

Left with no other choice, Jiang Tianji put all his energy into running forward. As his gaze swept across the surroundings, he caught glimpses of other team members locked in combat with variants, along with a few familiar figures—were those… the other instructors?

Siss.

During that split second of distraction, a sudden chill struck his lower back, followed by a spreading, sharp sting.

Ling Kongmiao wielded the whip, its tip tearing through Jiang Tianji’s clothes and effortlessly shattering a tree in the process. Catching the recruit’s bewildered gaze, his tone sounded like a devil’s whisper.

“If you don’t speed up, you’re going to get caught.”

Jiang Tianji: “…”

Dammit, I’d rather face the variants.

Time ticked away second by second as physical strength drained rapidly through the confrontation, making it feel as though an eternity had passed.

“The countdown has ended.”

A notification popped up on the instructors’ devices, and they halted their movements in unison. Simultaneously, all the variants froze, the energy luster fading from their eyes. Their physical forms collapsed and dissolved, finally granting the surviving team members a moment to catch their breath as they leaned against the trees in various states of disarray.

“Not bad at all,” Zhao Hengyi remarked, shearing his axe away as he turned to face Jia Yun, whose uniform was half-shredded as he clutched his shoulder and panted. “Your solo combat ability is solid. If you tighten up your team coordination, there’s still room for your comprehensive score to improve.”

“Though I’ve heard of this training mode before…” Jia Yun wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, half-kneeling on the ground in a rare display of exhaustion as he breathed heavily. “But among the instructors responsible for advanced training… there shouldn’t be a commanding officer from Special Rescue, right?”

The outside world wasn’t privy to the exact details of the training curriculum, but anyone who had made an effort to look into it knew the drill. Once live-combat missions were introduced, the focus would shift from mental-link simulations to physical combat simulations. Those with high comprehensive scores would be placed into the special group—otherwise known as “Hell Mode.”

“Yeah.” Zhao Hengyi let out a hearty laugh, walking over to clap him on the shoulder. “We don’t get this kind of opportunity back at Special Rescue. Hearing that there was a new event, I came along to join the fun. The atmosphere here at Z01 is fantastic—new ways to play every day, and they even let the instructors join in.”

Jia Yun’s face contorted slightly as his wound was pressed. Just as he was about to speak, a dark shadow suddenly flashed past his vision.

The chains, operating like sharp tentacles, deliberately lunged toward that figure. The shadow dodged with a few quick swerves, vanishing from right before their eyes in an instant.

While Jia Yun was still registering his disbelief, a streak of white drifted past. The figure was exceptionally fast, yet unhurried, pursuing with practiced ease as if deliberately maintaining a set distance.

Jia Yun: “…”

If he hadn’t misremembered just now, the person running for his life up ahead seemed to be a familiar face.

PT09 belonged to the primary trials and had a relatively low difficulty threshold. Ordinary team members would be eliminated the moment they sustained a fatal blow from a variant; upon returning to the starting point, the medical team would transport them to the medical ship for restoration.

Those remaining here at this point were all members who had met the trial’s passing standard, and quite a few had the fortune of witnessing this bizarre spectacle.

“I did hear some rumors indeed.” Another disheveled figure emerged from the bushes on the right, clutching his forearm as he walked up to the two men. “But to train like this… Instructor Zhao.” He greeted the man standing next to Jia Yun first.

“What rumors did you hear?” Zhao Hengyi walked over to clap his shoulder as well. “You’re the top scorer from the comprehensive pool of the ordinary group, right? Your name is Liu Ying, isn’t it? Good kid, keep up the hard work!”

“Cough, cough.” Caught off guard by the heavy pat, Zhang Ying gasped for air but didn’t forget to correct him, “…My name is Zhang Ying.”

“Oh, oh, my bad,” Zhao Hengyi replied cheerfully. “It’s all the same. What rumors were you just talking about?”

Zhang Ying looked at him with some hesitation. “You didn’t know?”

“The top 1% of the Federation database is no secret,” Ye approached silently, his tone cold. “Stop shouting.”

His voice was instantly drowned out by another exclamation as Zhao Hengyi stared in utter disbelief.

“Who?!”

Ye: “The one from the spring outing.”

“What—WHO?!!”

“Tch.” A trace of annoyance finally crept into Ye’s voice. “I told you to stop shouting.”