C.E. 63, Spring
Nangong Wentian sat in the corner of the back kitchen, a strange object laid out before him.
It was a helmet cobbled together from scrap parts—the outer shell was a motorcycle helmet scavenged from a junkyard, its interior densely packed with various circuit boards, sensors, and display screens. Countless thin wires extended from the helmet's edges, connecting to the "Star Core" 2.0 unit beside it.
Xiao Guang crouched nearby, looking at the helmet with eyes full of curiosity and concern.
"Wentian," he couldn't help but ask, "this thing... is it safe?"
Nangong Wentian didn't answer, continuing with the final adjustments. He called up a program from the "Star Core"—a virtual reality system he had spent three months writing. The principle was simple: use the helmet's sensors to read brainwave activity, then project virtual images directly onto the retina via the display screens. This way, he could create any scenario in his mind and conduct simulated training within it.
Of course, it was crude. The image resolution was low, latency was high, and sometimes it would lag. But it was better than nothing.
"Done," he let out a long breath and put down his tools.
Xiao Guang leaned in, staring at the helmet for a long moment before asking, "What can it do?"
Nangong Wentian took the helmet and put it on.
Instantly, the scene before his eyes changed.
No longer the corner of the back kitchen cluttered with parts, but a narrow, dark alley. On either side were dilapidated walls, overhead a sliver of sky, underfoot a waterlogged ground. The air seemed to carry the damp smell of mildew.
He looked down at his hands—identical to those in reality.
The voice of the "Star Core" echoed in his mind: "Scene loading complete. Dark Alley Simulation 01. Objective: Deal with three armed assailants. Difficulty: Beginner."
Nangong Wentian took a deep breath and began to walk forward.
After just a few steps, three figures appeared at the end of the alley. They wore ordinary clothes, holding clubs and knives in their hands, their faces bearing fierce expressions.
"Kid, hand over anything valuable!" the leader shouted.
Nangong Wentian didn't speak, only observing their stances and movements.
Three people. One in front, two behind. The one in front held a club, the two behind held knives. Their movements were amateurish, their stances loose—clearly not professional thugs.
But in reality, a twelve-year-old child facing an attack from three adults would have almost no chance of winning.
But this wasn't reality.
This was his world.
Nangong Wentian began to move.
He didn't charge at the leader, but suddenly veered left, using the wall as cover. The three men paused in surprise, then gave chase.
The moment the first man rounded the corner, Nangong Wentian was already waiting. He executed a low sweep kick, striking the man's ankle. The man lost his balance and fell forward. Nangong Wentian seized his arm, using the momentum to throw him into the two men behind.
All three tumbled into a heap.
Nangong Wentian didn't give them time to react. He charged forward and punched the first person in the temple—of course, it was simulated, with the force controlled within the "knockout" range.
Then he quickly retreated, reestablishing distance.
The remaining two scrambled to their feet, their ferocity replaced by fear. They exchanged a glance, turned, and fled.
Nangong Wentian did not pursue.
He stood in place, watching their figures disappear at the end of the alley.
"Simulation complete." The Star Core's voice sounded. "Time: 23 seconds. Three opponents repelled without injury. Evaluation: Excellent. Suggestion: Strikes could be more decisive; the first blow could be more lethal."
Nangong Wentian removed the helmet, and his surroundings returned to the back kitchen.
Xiao Guang was staring at him nervously. Seeing him take off the helmet, he quickly asked, "How was it? Are you okay?"
Nangong Wentian shook his head, a slight smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
"It works," he said.
Xiao Guang breathed a sigh of relief, then asked curiously, "What did you see just now?"
Nangong Wentian thought for a moment and described the scene.
After listening, Xiao Guang's eyes widened. "That amazing?! I want to try too!"
Nangong Wentian looked at him, hesitated briefly, then handed him the helmet.
Xiao Guang excitedly took it and put it on.
Then he froze.
"Wentian," his voice came muffled from inside the helmet, "why is it all dark?"
Nangong Wentian walked over and adjusted the interface for him.
"How about now?"
"Ah—!" Xiao Guang suddenly screamed, shrinking backward and nearly falling. Nangong Wentian reacted swiftly, catching him.
Xiao Guang took off the helmet, his face pale, breathing heavily.
"W-what happened?" he stammered. "Just now, someone charged at me with a knife!"
Nangong Wentian paused, then laughed.
"That was a simulation," he said. "It wasn't real."
Xiao Guang took several deep breaths, slowly calming down. He looked at the helmet, his eyes filled with both fear and curiosity.
"Wentian," he whispered, "this thing... it's too real."
Nangong Wentian nodded. That was exactly what he wanted.
From that day on, the back kitchen became their "training base."
Every night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Nangong Wentian would put on the helmet and enter that virtual world. He simulated all kinds of scenarios—dark alley encounters, multiple attackers, close-quarters combat in confined spaces, pursuit and counter-pursuit... For each scenario, he practiced repeatedly until he found the optimal response strategy.
Xiao Guang sometimes participated too. Though afraid, he gritted his teeth and persisted each time. From initial panic to later calm responses, his progress was rapid.
"Wentian," Xiao Guang asked once after training, a complex look flashing in his eyes, "why are you practicing all this?"
Nangong Wentian was silent for a moment, then said, "Because there might be danger in the future."
Xiao Guang was taken aback. "What danger?"
Nangong Wentian didn't answer. Some things were too distant and too heavy to speak of.
But he knew he had to be prepared.
For that day.
One night, Nangong Wentian was simulating an especially difficult scenario—facing four enemies simultaneously in a narrow stairwell.
He had just taken down two when the lights in the stairwell suddenly went out.
Then, a voice came from the darkness.
It wasn't the notification sound of the Star Core, but an unfamiliar, icy voice.
"What are you preparing for?"
Nangong Wentian abruptly opened his eyes and removed the helmet.
Everything in the back kitchen was as usual. Xiao Guang was squatting nearby, dozing off. The moonlight outside the window remained unchanged.
But that voice still echoed in his mind.
"What are you preparing for?"
It wasn't an illusion. Something was truly asking him.
He closed his eyes, trying to sense his surroundings. His Newtype Ability had progressed rapidly recently; he could now stably detect life signs within a radius of several dozen meters. But at this moment, all he sensed were Xiao Guang, the children in the distant dormitory, and Tanaka in the kitchen.
No one else.
Where did that voice come from?
"Wentian?" Xiao Guang was startled awake by his movements and asked groggily, "What's wrong?"
Nangong Wentian shook his head. "It's nothing."
He stood up, walked to the window, and gazed out into the night.
Under the moonlight, the locust tree in the backyard stood quietly. The sea in the distance was pitch black, with only the rhythmic sound of waves reaching his ears.
Was that voice related to the green light from the crossing? Was it related to the green light when the Star Core activated? Or to the green light when his Newtype Ability awakened?
He didn't know.
But he knew someone was watching him.
Or something was watching him.
"Whoever you are," he silently thought, "I'm ready."
Outside the window, the moonlight remained unchanged.
In the back kitchen, the crude helmet lay quietly on the table, waiting for the next training session.
And Nangong Wentian knew his journey was still long.
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