Chapter 2723: Transmigrated to the Noble Academy as a Special Recruit 04

At 2 p. m., Southern Radiance District, Independent Martial Arts Training Hall.

This building is F4's private territory; ordinary students don't even have the right to approach. Outside it's quiet, with four black‑uniformed, sharp‑bodied guards standing on either side of the Main Gate.

Jin Chen appeared at the far end of the corridor outside the building, still wearing a black coat, his cap pulled low, his steps unhurried.

The lead guard stepped forward, blocking his path: "Halt, identify yourself."

Jin Chen raised his wrist, revealing a gray‑iron permission wristband bearing the temporary permission code Lin Baiyu had given him earlier.

The guard snorted, put away his scanner, and looked Jin Chen up and down in his special‑recruit training uniform: "Scan failed—you have no permission. Even as a special recruit, have you checked what place this is? Do you think you can just come here?"

Jin Chen raised an eyebrow, then, in good temper, lifted his wrist and sent a message to Lin Baiyu.

He waited a moment, but there was no reply.

Jin Chen turned and walked away.

The two guards exchanged a glance, recalling Ling Yao Young Master's earlier order.

The guard who had just mocked him strode forward, reaching to pin Jin Chen's shoulder: "You think you can just leave? This place isn't somewhere you can come and go as you please."

Jin Chen sidestepped; the guard's grasp met air, and his body lurched forward from inertia.

Jin Chen seized the guard's wrist before he could pull back, and their fists and palms collided.

Jin Chen walked up to the guard who had first mocked him, stopped, and as the man tried to push himself up, Jin Chen stepped on his chest, pinning him back to the cold floor.

The guard let out a muffled groan, lifted his head, and locked eyes with Jin Chen.

Jin Chen raised a hand, took off his cap, and brushed back the slightly messy black bangs on his forehead.

Under the cap lay a strikingly striking face: a high, straight nose, thin yet distinct lips, slightly sunken eye sockets, and pupils of rare pure black. As he half‑lowered his gaze to the person beneath him, there was no emotion—only a dark, aggressive glint.

The guard under his foot was a young man, not much older than Jin Chen. Gazing up at that face, his breath hitched and his Adam's apple bobbed uncontrollably.

He couldn't even muster the thought of resistance; all he wanted was to curl up, feeling an urge to drop to his knees and beg for mercy.

Jin Chen bent over, snatched the guard's wrist‑mounted detector that showed insufficient permission, and scanned his own wristband again.

—Beep, permission verified, welcome.

"I…" the guard on the ground said, his throat dry, forcing out a syllable.

Jin Chen lifted his gaze, looking past the fallen guard straight at the inconspicuous micro‑monitor above the Main Gate, and said, "Can I go in now?"

Inside the martial arts hall's lounge, the light screen showed a real‑time view of the entrance.

Ling Yao held a glass of brightly colored fruit wine; his body, which had been lounging lazily on the sofa, straightened a fraction when Jin Chen removed his cap, his pupils narrowing slightly.

The youth on the screen, now free of the cap's shadow, was completely beyond his expectation.

"Wow," the Xisi beside him murmured in awe, leaning toward the screen: "This commoner's got two moves, and he's pretty striking to look at."

Lin Baiyu stood silently to the side, his stern face expressionless, seeing that Jin Chen's foundation was extremely solid, even top‑tier.

Seeing Jin Chen gazing at the monitor, Lin Baiyu lingered no longer, turned, pushed open the lounge door, and strode out.

Ling Yao lazily followed.

The three exited the Main Hall and came onto the steps inside the Main Gate.

Lin Baiyu stood at the highest point.

He was tall, wearing a fitted white martial arts uniform, his aura cool and aloof as he looked down at Jin Chen on the steps below.

"All right." Lin Baiyu spoke, answering Jin Chen's earlier question.

Jin Chen nodded, his tone flat: "Thanks."

Then he turned, actually intending to leave.

Lin Baiyu blinked, his brows knitting slightly: "Hold on. I said you could come in—do you dare break your word?"

His sparring invitation had never been ignored like this before.

Jin Chen turned his back to them, lazily hooking a finger on that old cap and giving it a shake, then turned his face sideways: "I'm not the one breaking the promise."

Ling Yao stood on the steps, his eyes flashing over Jin Chen's whole body, noticing he had nothing in his hands—no backpack!

He sent a message to the guard stationed outside the special‑recruit dormitory:

Hurry to Jin Chen's dorm and find him! Right now!

After sending the message, Ling Yao felt a little easier, lifted his chin, his beautiful eyes full of unruly defiance, took a few steps down the stairs, and stood face‑to‑face with Jin Chen.

"It was me who deliberately kept you out—what's the problem?"

Ling Yao raised an eyebrow, his tone mockingly nasty: "You still dare to have an attitude?"

He took two more steps down, nearly level with Jin Chen, pointed a finger at the ground, and flashed a wide grin.

"Don't want to train? Fine—kneel and beg me; this young master's mood's improved, maybe I'll let you scram."

"A‑Yao." Lin Baiyu spoke up to stop him, tone disapproving: "Let him train with me first; you can vent your anger later."

Jin Chen only looked at Ling Yao, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint arc: "Sure."

——

Inside the martial arts room, spacious and bright, the floor was laid with a special energy‑absorbing material.

On the central simulated combat platform, two figures were rapidly crossing.

Lin Baiyu's moves were fierce, the explosive power unique to Military Body Fist; his punches and kicks were lightning‑fast, delivered with probing intent and a desire to vent Ling Yao's frustration, holding nothing back.

However, a few minutes later, the situation reversed.

Jin Chen wore a black sleeveless training vest; his fighting style was completely different, allowing him to anticipate all of Lin Baiyu's attacks in advance.

Below the platform.

Ling Yao lounged on the spectator sofa, turning the ring on his finger joints, watching the stage with interest.

He couldn't help but look at Jin Chen's tensed arm muscles and the lines of his back……

"This damned pervert—he's got a great build and actually looks pretty good."

The disgust of having his plush bear stolen had oddly faded quite a bit.

On stage, Lin Baiyu grew more frightened the longer he fought.

Outsiders might not notice, but he could feel that no matter how he sped up the rhythm or changed his moves, Jin Chen always anticipated half a step ahead and pulled him back into the set rhythm.

He had almost no room to break free of control!

This feeling of frustration was worse than facing any overbearing opponent.

On the central screen, the fight countdown showed forty-three seconds remaining.

Just as Lin Baiyu's combo punch was blocked by Jin Chen, Jin Chen suddenly stepped back and pressed the end button at the edge of the stage.

Beep—

The simulated sparring ended early.

Lin Baiyu, still fully engaged in the fight and even somewhat reluctant to stop, stood frozen, breathing slightly hard, looking at Jin Chen in puzzlement.

"It's not time yet—what do you mean?"

Jin Chen leisurely unwound the white bandage wrapped around his fingers and wrist.

His fingers were long and slender, his knuckles distinct; even this simple motion was pleasing to the eye, and Lin Baiyu's gaze was drawn to it for a moment.

"Make up for the time you wasted outside." Jin Chen casually placed the removed bandage at the edge of the stage.

Lin Baiyu: "……"

His face grew colder: "Aren't you afraid I'll make it impossible for you to stay at the academy?"

Jin Chen finally finished unwinding the bandage, casually put it on the nearby equipment rack, picked up the coat on the back of the chair, and put it on.

Hearing that, he leaned against the stage railing, lifted his eyes to Lin Baiyu, his dark pupils showing no emotion, and said, "Your fight just now had nine fatal mistakes; if this were the frontline battlefield, you'd already be dead nine times."

Lin Baiyu's pupils contracted.

He quickly replayed the fight in his mind, and it was clear there were only seven obvious flaws.

Could there be two more that he himself hadn't noticed?

He was really curious, itching to ask, but couldn't bring himself to lose face and do so.