"I have already stretched the rules to limits telling you this, now it's up to you," Norlin did answer me but replied cryptically.
"We're square now," Before I could press her further, she yelled those words as she hurried over to her guardian leaving me and Mary full of questions but no answers or clue on where to search for them.
"Wyatt, either that girl is insanely cunning, or you were right to assume she has some kind of premonition-type Grim Cypher. Those Cyphers come with strict limits and rules. Considering how she managed to turn her life around, both are likely but the latter is more likely as she genuinely seemed grateful to you. There's a strong chance her warning is real. So, what do we do now?" Mary asked, having concluded that Norlin Lynn's warning might be credible.
"We have no choice but to continue with the exam. I don't think I can fake being sick and get away with it," I replied, resolving to my fate.
I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered quitting the registration exam. I already had misgivings about being called to register so early, and now, with Norlin Lynn's warning, those doubts had only deepened. But now that I was here at the reserve garrison, there was no escaping it.
I glanced at Norlin, who was deep in discussion with her guardian. From their demeanor, he likely her freelance agent than an instructor or trainer from an academy or guild—certainly not a parent or relative.
I wasn't sure what circumstances had pushed Norlin to apply for the garrison reserves instead of waiting to be called in, or whether the decision had been the freelance agent's idea. If it's the latter she should consider firing him.
Grimlocks, those without backing from families, academies, guilds, or organizationans relied on the city's garrison reserve exam to prove their skills to potential employers. This was the reality for the poor and weak.
There were freelance agents, independent handlers, who invested in these grimlocks, providing them with the training and resources needed to perform well in the registration exam. In return, they arranged interviews with guilds, small raider or ranger teams, mercenary groups, and even large companies—ultimately selling these grimlocks to the highest bidder. This was also how Crayon's parents also ended up in Zenith guild.
Given Norlin Lynn's actions so far, she didn't seem like the kind of girl who would do something she didn't want to—no matter who asked or forced her. Most likely, the freelance agent was simply a means to an end in her rise to dominance.
"Yeah, that's true. If you get caught faking it, you'll end up in a cell next to the same goons you just put away. Let's just focus on the exam," Mary said, nodding in agreement.
I smiled, noting how she didn't immediately dismiss Norlin as crazy or tell me to stay away from her. Instead, she let me work through it and arrive at the right conclusion on my own. But I hope stop seeing me as a kid.
Soon, a group of soldiers arrived, and every newborn Grimlock and their guardian turned to face them as they approached Mary and me. When they reached us, the one in the lead confirmed with me, "Crayon V. Wyatt?"
"Yes," I replied, nodding, wondering why they had singled me out. I couldn't help glancing at Mary, then at Norlin, who was watching me as well.
"Please follow me. Deputy Garrison Commander Col. D. Blade has invited you for tea," the soldier said. From his tone, it was clear I didn't have much of a choice.
I turned to Mary. She stepped forward and introduced herself. "I'm Mary Lou, Wyatt's liaison and a researcher at the city's research institute. I'll be accompanying him."
"Yes, that would be best," the soldier agreed, preparing to lead us to the deputy commander.
However, one of the other guardians stepped in. Blocking the soldier's path, he began. "It's already time for the registration exam to begin. What are we supposed to think if you take an examinee away for tea with the deputy commander? Why weren't the other examinees invited?"
"And you are?" the soldier asked the man, impassive.
"I am Captain Marcell Laos, grimgate security force. This is my nephew, Liam Laos, the pride and joy of our family," the man said, gesturing to a petite boy with aquamarine hair. He seemed to very fond of his nephew.
At the name, the other guardians in the area exchanged knowing looks. The Laos family—no wonder they're so arrogant.
Even the previously indifferent soldier seemed momentarily unsettled. What unsettled him even more was that the man before him was a captain in the city's grimmate security force. That meant he commanded a vessel-class gion ship at minimum.
The soldier quickly composed himself and saluted aloud, "First Lieutenant Ryan Hart, Sir."
If it was any other commanding officer, he wouldn't have cared, as the latter was off duty. But the captains of F.O.E. gion ships were different; they commanded more respect.
Then he politely answered the captain, "Sir, the exam will be delayed for fifteen minutes as the deputy commander intends to conduct it personally after having tea with Crayon V. Wyatt."
At that, both Marcell and Liam turned their attention to me. The blue haired boy, in particular, studied me with a mix of curiosity and open challenge. Being invited to tea by the man in charge, right when the exam was supposed to begin, wasn't just unusual—it was the biggest flex there was. I could feel the curious, envious gazes of the other examinees and their guardians on me.
"Fifteen more minutes, huh," Marcell said, stepping aside. But Liam stepped forward and extended his hand to me, introducing himself, "Hi, I'm Liam Laos."
Finding it cute, I shook it, playing along, "Crayon V. Wyatt. Nice to meet you, Liam."
Just as I began to pull away, he tightened his grip and drew me closer, whispering in my ear, "I hope you're half as good as your lil'brother. Otherwise, it will not be fun for me."
A sharp snap echoed from my palm before he let go. The bone had definitely fractured—but my undying body healed it before the pain could even register. I stared at the little asshole, wondering what that had been about.