Chapter 9: Phone Wallpaper

One day later, the Xia Nation Awakening Ability Assessment Center.

This assessment center, newly built six months ago, sits on a hill just north of the Xia Nation’s capital, covering a thousand mu; it includes not only evaluation facilities for awakenees but also research departments for awakening abilities and medical-logistical support for the Jueguan Bureau’s Special Operations Team.

Yang Yi’s tests included strength, speed, range, dark matter absorption efficiency, and other extended abilities.

Following Professor Wu’s instructions, Yang Yi punched a specially designed machine; the adjacent computer displayed a force reading of one thousand tons. The surrounding researchers’ gazes shifted—no one spoke, but the shock was unmistakable.

Yang Yi knew that from this moment on, she had to hold back.

After completing the speed and control range tests in sequence, the researchers around her had grown numb; they looked at Yang Yi not as a person, but as an alien never before seen.

The mix of shock, curiosity, and urgent desire to study her made Yang Yi uncomfortable. After finishing several tests, she said she was tired and wanted to rest.

A researcher led her to the rest room and kindly asked what drink she wanted; she asked for tea, then sat alone in silence.

The rest room was fully equipped: TV, computer, newspapers and magazines, a refrigerator stocked with drinks, and the option to order meals anytime—but right now, she had no appetite for any of it.

She missed her “secret base” by the sea—a grove on a cliff overlooking the ocean, beneath which lay a thousand-zhang drop, littered with jagged rocks and rarely visited by humans; it was her private sanctuary.

She had cleared a patch in the grove and fashioned a reclining chair from wood and vines; whenever she felt agitated or depressed, she would sit there and pour all her emotions into the boundless blue ocean before her.

“Are you there?”

She seemed to be speaking to someone, but the rest room held only her.

“I know you don’t want to answer me—you always ignore me. Forget it. I know you’re there, always there…”

“I want to go back—to Haibei City, that fifth-tier coastal town. I’d already prepared to live out my life alone there. Who knew… sigh…”

“I love the seafood there, the seasonal fruits available year-round, the relaxed atmosphere. What I love most is that it sits right beside the sea—I love the ocean.”

“Do you think Chris’s blue eyes resemble the sea? The first time I saw his eyes, I was captivated—so deep, so blue.”

“I want to go back as soon as possible, but it seems… I can’t go back…”

————

Awakening Assessment Center.

In an office, Director Zhou stared at the documents in his hands, filled with technical data. After a long silence, he tossed them onto the desk.

“Professor Wu, just tell me—what are her test results?”

“Honestly, they shattered my understanding.”

“What? You’ve led awakening research for over two years since dark matter appeared. Even if she’s an A-rank, how could she shock you this much?” Director Zhou rubbed his pocket, holding back his urge to smoke.

"She manipulates dark matter energy with great mastery," said Professor Wu, his hair streaked white, adjusting his glasses. "Other awakenees are still in the exploratory stage; she operates effortlessly, as if it were her third hand. If we compare dark matter energy to electricity, most awakenees have only learned to flip a switch—she’s already mastered absorption, conversion, and storage. Others took one step; she’s taken three."

“So, could other awakenees learn this method too?”

“Perhaps some gifted ones have, but none as effortlessly as she does.”

Director Zhou recalled the scene at the United Nations that day—many awakenees hadn’t lost their abilities entirely; they were elites selected by their nations, yet their power barely reached one-tenth of their usual level, easily suppressed by security firearms.

But Yang Yi had stood midair, one hand forcing everyone to the ground, the other maintaining a psychic barrier to block explosions—a scene unforgettable forever.

“So, how strong is she? What’s her potential?”

“Let me give you an analogy: if awakenees are batteries, their absorption rates vary by quality. To fully charge, some need a month, others a week. But they’ll always fill up—because their capacity is finite.”

“So her battery charges fast and has a large capacity?”

“No—she may never fill up. Her capacity is hundreds or thousands of times greater than others’, and it’s still growing. If her capacity grows faster than her charging rate, she’ll never be full. Simply put, her ability is dynamically increasing.”

Director Zhou finally couldn’t hold back—he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket and drew one out.

“You can’t smoke here,” Professor Wu frowned.

“I know. I’m just smelling it.” He’d quit smoking long ago; he carried cigarettes only for social occasions, but now he desperately wanted one.

“So, will she become a god someday? If she just thinks about it, she could rule or destroy Earth? Humanity’s fate rests on her whim? Do you believe that yourself, Professor Wu?” Director Zhou smiled as he spoke.

“A god?” Professor Wu ignored the sarcasm, his expression still grave. “That’s absurd. Compared to her power, the human body has limits—it can’t match her current growth rate. Her strength can’t increase indefinitely; there must be a ceiling.”

Director Zhou exhaled in relief—but Professor Wu’s next words choked the breath in his chest.

“But once her power reaches an extremely high level, destroying a few small nations would be effortless—like the island nation and the Korean peninsula nearby. All it would take is a single thought.” Professor Wu’s tone sounded like a joke, but his face remained serious.

Director Zhou held the cigarette beneath his nose, inhaling its scent—then nearly sucked the paper into his nostril, choking violently.

“Cough—so why? Why do other batteries max out at 100 amps, but hers reaches 1000—and keeps increasing capacity? You know what this is like? Imagine planting an acre of watermelons—all normal-sized, then suddenly one giant one appears. There must be a reason.”

“The world was never fair. Some people struggle for years to reach Rome; others are born there.”

“So you’re saying she’s a lucky soul born in Rome?”

“No—she is Rome.”

————

“Did you find it?” Chris asked, lifting dumbbells. His new role required a muscular physique; he was disciplined, working out two hours daily after returning home.

“I’ve collected most of the surrounding surveillance footage, but several high-end hotels and restaurants refused access…” Assistant John replied.

“I know you can do it—use money, hire lawyers, whatever it takes,” Chris kept lifting, his biceps bulging sharply.

“Alright, I’ll do my best.”

“No—you must do it.”

John had worked with Chris for two years; they were close friends. After finishing work talk, John asked, confused: “Honestly, Chris, I don’t get why you need that day’s surveillance footage. The investigators already confirmed it—an accident. You even signed off on it.”

“I don’t know if you believe me,” Chris set down the dumbbells, picked up a bottle of water, and drank deeply, “but I survived that day because someone saved me.”

“An awakenee?” John reacted instantly.

After the truck explosion, Chris had immediately retrieved the camera, replayed the high-definition footage through the cinematographer’s lens, then taken the data drive, lying that he’d lost it. Only Chris possessed the HD video of the explosion.

John immediately connected this to the recent uproar over awakenees.

“I think so—who else could save me without touching me?!”

Chris’s blue eyes lowered, casting deep shadows in their sockets. He remembered the explosion—the truck hitting the guardrail, bursting into flames, the roaring fire, flying debris. In that moment, the human body was so fragile.

A shard of gleaming car metal flew past his eyes—if it had followed its normal trajectory, it would have severed his skull. But the metal twisted unnaturally midair, plunging straight into the hard concrete pavement, its path defying physics.

“It must be your fan! Lots of fans were watching you film that day,” John suddenly understood. “That’s why you broke character and approached fans that day!”

Now he realized why Chris insisted on collecting the surveillance footage: “If you want to find this fan, just thank him on your blog—he’ll contact you!”

Chris shook his head: “He saved me without revealing his identity—he likely wanted to avoid attention. I won’t drag my savior into trouble.”

Chris gazed out the window, memories of online rumors about human experiments on awakenees rising in his mind; his brow furrowed deeply, his blue eyes betraying worry.

“Don’t worry—someone who could save you from that explosion must be incredibly strong. Maybe he’s even like the A-rank who saved the UN…”

Before John finished, he froze, deep in thought, then suddenly widened his eyes and quickly pulled out his phone, scrolling to an entertainment news article from that morning.

“The world’s only A-rank awakenee, the superheroine who saved the UN, is actually a fan of famous Arkhan actor Chris Norton!”

The accompanying photos showed two scenes from the UN meeting: In the first, a young girl with a low ponytail sat quietly in the hall, idly fiddling with her phone. Everyone else was solemnly engaged in the meeting; she appeared to be listening, but her gaze was distant, as if lost in thought.

In the second photo, her phone screen was enlarged—the photographer must have thanked modern high-definition cameras; though slightly blurry, the image clearly showed the phone’s wallpaper was Chris’s face.

John didn’t speak—he just thrust his phone into Chris’s face, excited: “Can you believe it? The truck explosion and the UN explosion happened on the same day. This Miss Yang Yi was at the UN meeting that day—and saved everyone in the building! The UN building is only a few kilometers from the set. Most importantly—she’s your fan! How could so many coincidences exist?”

John grew more excited, his mind racing several times faster than usual: “And that day, the set sealed off the entire road for safety—your fans were all far away. A normal awakenee couldn’t possibly have saved you from that distance! It has to be her—the UN’s only officially recognized A-rank awakenee. No, some say she’s Super-A, even S-rank…”

Ignoring his overexcited assistant, Chris took the phone and studied the girl in the pictures. After checking her name’s pronunciation, he searched for it on his own phone—dozens of webpages popped up, mostly news reports on her UN rescue and her Super-A-level abilities.

Besides the widely known UN rescue video, there were clips of her saving tourists by the sea and luring sea monsters back into the ocean.

Many forums analyzed the scale and strength of her psychic power, how she dominated all other awakenees to become number one.

Some called her the only person worthy of the title “Superman.”

————

The Awakening Bureau is located on Beijing’s Fifth Ring Road, north of the Awakening Assessment Center and the Dark Matter Research Institute, south of the nation’s political and cultural center—its location is ideal.

Feng Liancheng led Yang Yi into the staff dormitory building, explaining as they walked: “Third floor, two bedrooms, one living room, one kitchen, one bathroom. The living room and bedrooms face south, the study faces north, overlooking a garden and artificial lake—nice view. You can move in immediately.” He added bitterly, “Unlike me—I only got a single apartment.”

Yang Yi was satisfied. In Beijing, where every square meter cost a fortune, this apartment alone was worth over ten million—by her old salary, she couldn’t have afforded it even if she sold herself.

“My things are still in Haibei City. I’ll need a moving company to pack them up.”

“Don’t worry—everything’s already on the way. To prevent espionage or covert agencies from interfering, all your belongings from Haibei were professionally packed and organized, and all traces of your former life have been erased.”

Yang Yi paused, lips tightening, saying nothing.

She opened the living room window—the afternoon sun was hot, drying her skin as if it would flake off at any moment; in Haibei City, near the sea, you could pinch a drop of damp, salty water between your thumb and forefinger.

“What’s my job?” Yang Yi asked. Since she couldn’t return to Haibei, she accepted her current situation.

“We’ll see how the bureau assigns you. Other awakenees who join the bureau—if their abilities suit combat and they’re willing to face danger—will be trained and assigned to the Special Operations Team, to fight alien lifeforms or carry out special missions. Those unwilling can be assigned work based on their abilities. Our bureau’s principle: no one is forced into danger.”

Feng Liancheng added, “But most awakenees choose the Special Operations Team—everyone’s learned a pattern: only by facing danger, by flirting with death, can you break through your limits and dramatically enhance your awakening ability. As for your specific assignment, I really don’t know—you’re unusual.”

“Didn’t you say you were going to assign me to the United Nations?” Yang Yi asked.

Feng Liancheng asked casually, “Do you want to work at the United Nations?”