"Does he even have the right to do that?" a student whispered to the one closest to him. "I mean, it's true that we were meant to be here by eight o'clock, but no one mentioned that late coming would result in automatic disqualification. And also, I don't think he even has the right to disqualify us without the assessment even beginning. Isn't this power abuse?" The student continued, pointing out what he believed were undeniable facts.
"You're right," another chimed in, "This is absolutely power abuse. Wouldn't he get into serious trouble if the higher-ups got wind of this?" Another student added, voicing their shared concerns.
"Don't be stupid," a third student interjected, his tone sharper, knocking the others to their senses. "Are you forgetting he's a mutated human? What if he hears you and disqualifies you too? It's clear as day from the way he's talking that he's the one in charge here, and anything he says is law. I don't think badmouthing him is a good idea. If I were you, I'd be grateful I made it early and will be able to take part in the assessment, rather than be disqualified without even having the chance to show my skills."
The bald man, despite the distance, was able to hear everything. Being a mutated human, his senses were far superior to those of a normal human, allowing him to perceive every whispered complaint.
But it didn't seem to affect him in any way. It was almost as if he didn't care if he would make enemies of the parents behind the gates or the crowd of teenagers before him. To him, he was simply doing his job.
Furthermore, if students so young weren't capable of making it on time, then the MTA (Mutated Training Academy) wasn't the place for them. It also implied the assessment wasn't of huge importance to them either.
So, if anything, he felt like he was giving them an easy way out without the need for them to even stress themselves during the rigorous trials.
After those words hung in the air, he continued. "The assessment had begun as soon as you all graduated, when you were given the dark box that contained your uniforms and the instructions you were to follow."
He explained, making a clear clarification. "If you are not able to follow such simple orders, then I doubt the MTA is even a place for you."
"For those of you still present, you are to make your way to the information box house," he said, pointing at a small, hastily constructed tiny house.
The words "Information Box House" were roughly painted on its side. It was clear that the structure had been quickly assembled on the spot, likely by a mutated human with earth manipulation abilities.
Looking around, Fai could see multiples of such mini-houses stationed almost everywhere, close to the large black vehicles.
"There you will give the purple card that was given to you to the ones inside, and they will assign you where and which vehicle you are to go to."
After giving out those instructions, the bald man left, seemingly going back to where he had come from, his form disappearing into the bustling background.
Suddenly, all the students who were standing in loose groups quickly formed lines behind the information houses, a collective fear of further disqualification spurring them into action. No one wanted to waste another second.
Following the line in front of him, Fai slowly but surely made his way to the box house.
As he reached the front, he handed over the purple card he'd stored earlier. After a few seconds, the person behind the counter handed back the card along with a piece of paper.
Written on the paper was the number seven, and underneath it, another number: twenty-five.
"You are to keep the card jealously. Information on how to use it will be given further later on," the person stated, their voice flat and professional, not even looking up at Fai's face as they continued their work.
"Look for the vehicle having the number seven. Once you do, look for the seat having the number twenty-five. Good luck." the person continued.
"Thank you," Fai said politely, a genuine note of appreciation in his voice. For some reason, hearing someone wish him luck, even in such a perfunctory manner, was reassuring. He could feel a subtle drop in the overall tension that had been building inside him.
Following the instructions, it didn't take long for Fai to find his assigned vehicle. It was a long, dark transport bus, its windows tinted heavily.
Entering inside, he found his seat with no difficulty, nestled by a window, offering him a view of the gathering crowd outside.
For the moment, he was alone.
Teenagers kept entering the bus, but none sat next to Fai as they went to their assigned areas. Soon, the bus was nearly full.
It was then that an individual could be seen climbing the stairs of the vehicle, droplets of sweat running down his face as he made his way up, breathing heavily, clearly having rushed.
"Finally!… I… I… I found it," the boy gasped, trying to catch his breath. He slowly made his way to his assigned seat. "Twenty-six… that's… that's… that's my spot, right?" the boy said, pointing towards the empty seat next to Fai, and then sat down without even waiting for an answer.
"Oh boy, I ran around like a madman looking for this bus," the boy continued, talking rapidly without an obvious intent of stopping anytime soon.
"Stupid me, I didn't even listen to the complete explanation and ran to a nearby bus for fear of being disqualified for wasting time, and sat on the seat numbered twenty six . Only to be chased out of the seat by the real owner, putting me in a situation where I had to run around looking for this bus. I'm lucky I found it, though, or else who knows what would have happened!" He continued to explain the series of events that led to his present, breathless situation.
As the teenager sat close, Fai could now see him clearly. He had brown hair, styled in a flat-top haircut that surprisingly suited him.
His dirty brown eyes, though, managed to be cool and fit perfectly with his unconventional haircut. His face was smooth, void of scars—perfectly shaped, though his haircut still made him look a bit awkward and somewhat funny.
Then, he stretched out his hand towards Fai. "Sorry, I lost my manners. The name's Johnson, but you can call me John." The boy offered his hand, going in for a handshake.
Fai, at some point, had been expecting this. It didn't come as a surprise to him. His interactions with many kids his age had never been good by any means.
Most times, they started out friendly, just like this. But then, when they discovered he had no strong background, no influential family, no powerful relatives, no inherent power,the friendships would immediately cease.
In fact, those people who initially tried to befriend him would often end up bullying him. In the end, people formed friendships with those from whom they could gain benefits.
That was how the world was: power, strength, and status were truly all that mattered.
So, it was hard for Fai to believe that Johnson would be any different, making him hesitate for a while. Eventually, though, Fai extended his hand and took Johnson's.
"I'm Fai," Fai said indifferently, a stark contrast to Johnson, who maintained a bright, hopeful smile on his face.
"Fai, a nice name you got there," Johnson said jokingly, a light laugh accompanying his words. "Easy to call if I need help, don't you think?"
He then shifted his tone. "Anyways, Fai, I know you're quite worried about the journey ahead that awaits us, but I just want to let you know that you have nothing to be scared of.
You've prepared well enough for this assessment, so you're going to make it. Stop worrying over nothing. I can feel your feet shaking."
"You are mistaken," Fai retorted, his gaze dropping to Johnson's feet, which were indeed moving up and down in a fast, tremulous rhythm.
They were clearly trembling, a stark indication that Johnson was scared, despite his cheerful words. "I think those words are best suited for you." Fai said, still looking at Johnson's shaking feet.