Acumen College was located in the Pingjiang District, on the outskirts of Xia City's core urban area. Aside from the college itself, there were numerous high schools and research institutes clustered nearby. Together, they formed an educational zone spanning nearly a hundred square kilometers—one of the areas with the best cultural atmosphere and natural environment in the city.
After escorting Luo Nan to school, Zhang Yingying turned the car around and headed to a research institute a few kilometers away. This institute operated under the International Science Exploration Society and functioned as a meeting point for the Awakened.
Because the number of Awakened in Xia City was relatively small, the place was usually empty. Sometimes, months would pass without a single visitor. Yet today, when Zhang Yingying walked in, she saw the rare sight of Aunt Susan on duty.
"Hey, Susan. Congrats on gaining another five kilograms."
Aunt Susan was half Caucasian. It was said that she had been an exceptionally beautiful mixed-blood in her youth, but now she was a lazy and coarse middle-aged woman weighing over 120 kilograms. Her favorite pastime was staying home and playing games. Because of that, she and Zhang Yingying got along quite well—they were kindred spirits.
"I'm working overtime every day! I'm going to die!"
Susan's thick chin quivered as she complained loudly. "What happened to the Society's principle of 'Say No to Altered People'? It hasn't even been five years, and now they're saying 'Burners don't count as Altered People.' Ha! They were originally targeting Archetype Format modifications, but now they're all changing their stance one by one. A bunch of spineless liars!"
Zhang Yingying widened her eyes. "They're recruiting Burners into the Society? But the first batch hasn't even finished their service period yet, right? I remember the agreement was twenty years…"
"There's a group that retired early due to injuries—around two hundred people." Susan snorted. "Heh. At this rate, we'll soon become a Veterans' Society."
"Two hundred people?" Zhang Yingying was stunned. "How many Burners are there in the entire world?"
"Seventeen thousand, six hundred and twenty-six. Latest data."
Despite her rough appearance, Susan had an excellent grasp of numbers. As the Society's statistics secretary, she wielded considerable authority.
"We won't even need to wait twenty years for a large retirement wave. In ten years, the government will probably take over the Society's authority."
"I'm not that pessimistic."
Zhang Yingying didn't want to dwell on the topic. She stepped closer and glanced at the data displayed across the massive projection screen. Just then, Susan zoomed in on a particular profile, which caught Zhang Yingying's attention.
"He Wei, captain of Special Forces Team Seven aboard the Lanshan… I just came from there. Twenty years old? When did she undergo modification?"
"First batch," Susan replied. "Apparently, she got into a car accident at fifteen and was critically injured. They used Burner modification to save her life. After that, she stayed in the military—outstanding record, strong background. She officially retired today. Soon, she'll become our Vice President."
Susan's tone was dripping with sarcasm, but when it came to evaluation, she didn't hesitate to assign a "C+" rating. For entrance assessments, that was already the highest possible grade.
In comparison, both she and Zhang Yingying were only rated "C."
Zhang Yingying clicked her tongue. Seeing Susan about to continue, she quickly reached out and pressed her hand down. "Susan, dear, let me cut in line!"
Susan shot her a glare with her swollen eyes. "Get lost. Do you know how busy I am? Over two hundred people need grading and data entry within five days. This isn't something I can finish with a few clicks!"
"Of course, of course, I know you're suffering," Zhang Yingying said sweetly. "But think about our friendship. Just last week, I stayed up three days and nights playing Records of the Fallen Shackles War with you. I even wanted to play a few rounds of Wilderness afterward, but you ran off!"
"I came back to work overtime," Susan muttered, a little guilty.
"Then let's settle overtime grievances with more overtime!"
Zhang Yingying slapped her flexible screen onto the control panel. "Just this one person. I need him entered into the database today and evaluated. That's it."
Susan grumbled under her breath, but eventually relented. She activated the flexible screen.
"Oh my god. Ten Days in the Wilderness again? Aren't you tired of this game yet?"
Still, she quickly located the appropriate module and linked it to the large projection display. Zhang Yingying had already prepared everything, saving Susan a lot of effort.
"Playback."
The projection displayed Luo Nan's matches with Zhang Yingying, including his hand gestures, character movements, and tactical decisions.
Although Zhang Yingying had personally experienced these matches, she remained intensely focused, even more so than Susan.
From a technical standpoint, Luo Nan was clearly a beginner. His control contained many redundant movements, frequent mistakes, delayed weapon switching, and poor coordination between systems.
But none of that mattered to Zhang Yingying.
She wasn't evaluating his gaming skill—she was looking for something deeper.
For instance, when Luo Nan adjusted Blacktooth's firing trajectory, the lines traced by his fingers were so precise it was as if he were using a ruler. Or when he faced Wind Glory's erratic movements—after just two losses, his predictive accuracy became sharp enough to make Zhang Yingying grit her teeth.
These traits were noteworthy, but they still weren't the core.
At this moment, Susan acted. She pressed her right hand against the sensor panel, and a brilliant white light split the projection into two halves.
One side displayed the game and Luo Nan's control playback. The other showed real-time data charts.
As the playback continued, numerical values fluctuated, forming dynamic curves.
Most indicators remained low and steady, but three showed significant variation.
Zhang Yingying leaned forward, her expression sharpening.
"Control delay reduced from 12 to 09… stabilized for over four hours. Tsk, this level of concentration—and you claim you don't like games.
"Lethality increased between 1% and 8%. Low, but improvable.
"Character activation—personification from 52% to 72%… a 20-point increase. That's enough to pass."
She exhaled slowly. Even without considering his ability, Luo Nan's foundational traits were promising. That alone was reassuring.
"Another non-combatant," Susan muttered. "Your firm really has no variety. Targets like this don't make money easily, you know?"
Still, she proceeded with the evaluation:
Name: Luo Nan
Age: 16 (Adolescent)
Ability Direction: Mental Enhancement (Precision)
Level Determination: Unawakened (No rating)
Potential Standard: E+
Recommended Path: Precision Control, Maintenance, Production
With practiced ease, Susan uploaded the data into the Society's internal database.
Then she pressed a button.
The system automatically sent out a contact signal—reaching a certain fledgling several kilometers away.