Chapter Fifty-Three: Training the Gifted

A week later, at dawn, Wu Ming was still half-asleep when an urgent knocking at the door jolted him awake. With dark circles under his eyes and hair in complete disarray, he poked his head out of his room, only to see that Monk Luokong and the others were in much the same state. Ever since they’d discovered that dream worlds could replenish their spiritual energy, everyone’s enthusiasm had soared. Night after night, they had thrown themselves into relentless exploration and clearing of similar dream realms. After eliminating more than a dozen spirit realm creatures that had crossed over, Wu Ming and his companions had accumulated a large cache of spirit power crystals. This should be enough to sustain them for a while, especially with the training of those soldier-espers about to begin. If they didn’t show some real power, none of the soldiers would be convinced. As such, they had to prepare ample supplies of the consumable spirit power crystals in advance.

“I’ll get the door,” Lingmei purred, swaying her hips as she walked toward the entrance. “I simply adore brawny soldiers—what a refreshing way to start the morning!” Her voluptuous figure undulated enticingly, her curves accentuated to the point where Wu Ming’s drowsiness vanished in an instant. As she passed his door, a wave of fragrance swept over him, filling the air with a heady scent reminiscent of blooming roses—a mature, intoxicating allure.

“Little junior brother Wu Ming, care to join me?” Lingmei blew him a kiss over her shoulder, sending Wu Ming scrambling to avert his eyes from her shapely thighs and fair, long legs. He hastily closed the door and retreated into the room, swallowing hard, his heart pounding wildly.

“She can’t possibly have noticed me always stealing glances at her, right? But she’s just too alluring—how could anyone resist?” Wu Ming couldn’t help but recall those smooth, fair thighs, the skin as soft and lustrous as a hard-boiled egg, likely springy and supple to the touch. Damn, am I turning into a pervert? He felt his face flush with heat, his body responding in ways he dared not admit, and forcibly banished all further errant thoughts before they could run wild.

Lingmei rubbed her eyes and peered through the peephole of the security door. Outside stood two burly men in immaculate black suits, utterly motionless—like statues. She hurriedly opened the door to invite them in. After all, in today’s society, those who could stand so straight, with habitual military posture woven into their very being, could only be soldiers—soldiers who had internalized their discipline to the bone.

“Come in, officers!” Lingmei, shedding her earlier coquettishness, stepped aside to welcome them in and prepared tea. Though she often appeared flirtatious, she had deep respect for soldiers, especially those who served selflessly without seeking reward.

“Excuse me, do the masters of the One Qi Dao Sect reside here?” The two men, despite their black suits and the look of agents from an American film, sat with their backs straight, their knees together, their posture and determined gaze at odds with their attire.

“I am Lingmei, inner disciple of the One Qi Dao Sect. My fellow disciples… will be with you shortly. I’ll take my leave for now; our sect leader will be here soon. Please enjoy some tea, and forgive any lack of hospitality,” Lingmei stammered, suddenly self-conscious in her revealing black lace and translucent robe—nothing underneath. It wouldn’t do to say her brothers were still asleep; that would only fuel speculation, so it was best to withdraw. Wu Ming, she knew, would be out in a flash—his speed with dressing and eating was nothing short of inhuman.

“No trouble at all, senior sister. Please, don’t worry about us. We’ll just wait here,” the two men replied, their gazes respectfully averted after catching an unintended glimpse of what they shouldn’t have seen. They quickly composed themselves, sitting upright in disciplined silence.

“Do you think we’ve come to the wrong place?” The younger of the two showed a flicker of uncertainty on his otherwise resolute face.

“We follow the captain’s orders—Number One’s instructions—without question. That is the soldier’s calling: absolute obedience to superiors!” The older man’s tone brooked no argument. “Longwu, you’ll do a hundred push-ups when we get back. Not as punishment, but to clear your head. In the future, your resolve in following orders must never waver!”

“Yes, sir!” Longwu started to rise, but the older man pulled him back down, holding him immobile with ease—clearly, the elder was more formidable than Longwu by far.

“Someone’s coming. Sit down. Judging by their cultivation, the newcomer must have achieved a state of profound return to simplicity. From the sound of his footsteps—light, disorderly, lacking any trace of mastery—he doesn’t seem like a seasoned cultivator at all. But anyone living here must be an elite of the One Qi Dao Sect, among the strongest in the world. Which means the newcomer’s power exceeds even my highest estimation…” The older man’s face registered awe.

“Hello, you must be brothers from the Esper Corps. I’m Wu Ming, nice to meet you!” Wu Ming strode forward, giving each a bear hug and shaking their hands with infectious enthusiasm.

“Greetings, sir. The captain sent us to invite you—and the other senior and junior sisters of the One Qi Dao Sect—to join us,” the two rose and saluted. Their military bearing startled Wu Ming, who awkwardly attempted a salute in return.

“Are we heading to the same base for training?” Wu Ming motioned for them to sit.

“Sir, the captain said we’re to conduct field training in the Black Death Forest, including exercises in esper cooperation and combat,” Longwu answered swiftly, only to fall silent at a glance from the elder, looking a touch aggrieved.

“I haven’t asked your names yet—how rude of me. I’m Wu Ming, head of the One Qi Dao Sect. My apologies for being so forward just now,” Wu Ming realized his breach of etiquette.

“I’m Longsan, and this is Longwu. Here are our military IDs and credentials for your verification, sir.” The older man produced a thick stack of documents from his bag, piling them high on the table—clearly, the bag was a rare spatial artifact, able to store objects without emitting any spiritual fluctuations.

As Wu Ming sifted through the credentials, he marveled at the diversity of espers. He realized he’d have to screen them carefully before training could begin—some of the abilities recorded were hardly suited for combat. There was a young woman whose hair constantly sparked with electricity; an elementary schooler who glowed in the dark when undressed; a middle-aged man whose feet emitted a strange fragrance after scratching them…