Chapter 40: The Test of Strength

Virtue, morality, the salvation of the world and humanity—all these lofty ideals were, in truth, far removed from Chang Yu. Perhaps it was because he had never personally witnessed the horrors of disasters or tragedies; he had no visceral impression of such calamities. Thus, he was destined never to understand the emotions with which Katerina spoke, nor could he comprehend the beliefs she had steadfastly held all this time.

Even now, he lacked a clear understanding of his current work. Fortunately, Katerina had no intention of pressing the issue further. She was not the sort of person who imposed her worldview upon others.

“Having explained the enemies we’ll be facing, I’ll now give you a brief overview of the Bureau’s power hierarchy and investigator ranks,” she continued. “Both the power levels and investigator grades are divided into five tiers within the Bureau: S, A, B, C, and D.”

“These five levels decrease in order from left to right—S is the highest, D is the lowest. Generally, an investigator’s grade is determined by their personal ability; your strength defines your rank. Of course, this doesn’t apply to newly joined investigators like you.”

“According to the organization’s rules, except for S-ranked investigators, every new recruit must start as a D-ranked investigator, regardless of their ability or background.”

“This rule exists because the Bureau must evaluate every recruit’s loyalty, which naturally takes time. Even you, Shi Chengjin, despite being the disciple of a revered Elder God, must begin as a D-rank.”

At this, Katerina glanced at Shi Chengjin, deliberately or otherwise.

“I’ve known this for a long time,” Shi Chengjin muttered impatiently, clearly displeased by her special attention.

He was well aware that new investigators had to start at the bottom, as D-ranks, due to the Bureau’s concern over potential betrayal. D-ranked investigators knew little of the organization’s secrets—this minimized the risk of leaks and gave the Bureau ample time to observe new members. If anyone harbored ill intent, the Bureau could identify them before they caused greater harm.

“Why are S-ranked investigators the exception?” Chang Yu voiced his confusion.

“Ha!” Shi Chengjin grinned mockingly before Katerina could reply. “That’s a foolish question,” he sneered.

“Worldwide, S-ranked investigators are at the very top of the pyramid, the strongest force any nation possesses. If an S-ranked investigator is willing to join, we’d be overjoyed—why would we ever make them idle?”

“He’s right,” Katerina finally explained. “Every S-ranked investigator is someone the Bureau is eager to recruit, and we would pay any price for their allegiance.”

“Then… How many S-ranked investigators does the organization have?” Chang Yu asked.

“Only two,” Katerina answered. “Each one is invaluable to both the Bureau and the country.”

Just two! No wonder the Bureau treasured S-ranked members so deeply, Chang Yu thought. Rarity breeds value—if S-ranks were everywhere, they wouldn’t be the pinnacle of the pyramid.

“So you’re a D-rank too?” Chang Yu assumed, given Katerina’s youth, that she had only recently joined.

“No, as the leader of our combat team, I am a C-ranked investigator, which means I possess C-level strength. Every team leader guiding new recruits is a C-ranked investigator; this rule exists to protect you newcomers.”

Katerina tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture lending her an added grace.

A C-ranked investigator? So young, yet already a pillar of the organization. She was truly impressive.

Just then, Shi Chengjin spoke up. “If it weren’t for the Bureau’s rules, with my strength I’d be a C-rank already.”

His face displayed arrogance, pride, and a dash of showiness—a thoroughly conceited fellow.

“Um… may I interrupt?” Feng Sanpao, who had been nodding off, suddenly yawned and spoke to the group. “Can we wrap up this meeting soon? I’d like to catch up on some sleep.”

Whether he was deliberately cutting Shi Chengjin off or simply too tired to care, his comment utterly demolished the grand image Shi Chengjin had just constructed.

“Next, I’ll take you three to test your current abilities. This will give us an accurate gauge of your strength,” Katerina said, standing.

“Once the tests are done, you can go rest. Also, here are your IDs.” She retrieved three black booklets from her bag and handed them out.

“Never lose these. They not only prove your identity but grant you certain special privileges. These IDs will bring you many conveniences—you’ll see in time,” Katerina advised.

Chang Yu took the black booklet. The national emblem gleamed on the cover, with “Disaster Investigation Bureau” printed beneath it. Inside, his photo was affixed at the top of the page, with his name printed below. The Bureau’s red seal was stamped at the bottom, beside a steel-embossed mark. It looked just like the one Katerina had shown him earlier, except for the color.

“Why are ours black, while yours is red?” Chang Yu asked curiously.

“Red signifies a C-ranked investigator; black denotes D-ranked. Since you’re D-rank, yours are black,” Katerina explained. “The color coding immediately reveals one’s rank to any member of the Bureau.”

“How hierarchical!” Chang Yu remarked with a wry smile. He’d have to work hard for a promotion; black simply didn’t carry the prestige of red.

“I won’t be joining you for the tests,” Shi Chengjin suddenly announced, standing up. “All my information is already on record; retesting would be a waste of time.”

With that, he strode out of the conference room—incidentally taking Feng Sanpao’s shoes with him.

...

The spacious training room was filled with dazzlingly intricate instruments and unfamiliar testing apparatus. Located on the eleventh floor of the office building, like the tenth floor, the entire level belonged to Yong’an Security Company. Yet few within the company knew of its existence. Now, under Katerina’s guidance, new visitors had arrived.

“Bang!” Chang Yu gathered his spiritual energy and unleashed a punch with all his might. His fist struck a cylindrical pillar, producing a dull thud and leaving a bowl-sized dent.

Surprisingly, there was no pain; the pillar felt less like stone and more like rubber, springy and resilient. Even more astonishing, the dent he had just made swiftly returned to its original shape.

“What’s this made of? Looks sturdy,” Chang Yu exclaimed, amazed. He had expected to shatter the pillar with a single blow, but it proved remarkably durable.

Why did he call it a stone pillar? Its pristine white surface resembled ordinary marble, and anyone seeing it would mistake it for stone at first glance. Yet after his experience, Chang Yu was certain—it was no stone.

No stone had the same texture as a child’s bouncy ball, nor could any stone bounce back after a full-force blow.

Katerina explained, “It’s made of aerospace materials with exceptional compressive strength, able to withstand tremendous impact without damage. Its elasticity allows it to recover from dents instantly, so we use it for strength testing.”

“To be honest, it’s a bit discouraging,” Chang Yu said. “I used all my strength and only made a small dent.”

Katerina smiled. “That’s already impressive. Many seasoned investigators can’t manage what you just did. This material is tough—even ordinary people would struggle to leave a mark, let alone a bowl-sized dent.”

She glanced at the display screen beside the pillar, where a large letter “C” shone brightly.

“This device measures the user’s strength level, making it easy to assess their abilities. Based solely on your strength, you’re at a C-level,” she noted, surprise flickering in her eyes.

“Your punch exceeded human limits. You’re stronger than I expected.”

“According to records, Tyson could strike with 800kg of force—a world-class punch. Yet even he never surpassed human limits; in our Bureau, he’d only be a D-ranked investigator.”

“I thought you’d just awakened and would be at D-level, but your potential is remarkable—awakened, yet already at C-level.”

“Does that mean I’m stronger than world champion Tyson?” Chang Yu beamed, elated. He knew of Tyson’s legendary status—no boxer could withstand his punishing blows at his peak. Yet even such a dazzling figure would bow before Chang Yu’s strength.

“I heard Shi Chengjin say your strength is also C-level,” Chang Yu recalled from the meeting, curiosity piqued. “I wonder what kind of dent you could make—would you like to try?”

His suggestion sprang from youthful competitiveness and a desire to compare himself to Katerina, the team leader. It chafed him to possess C-level strength yet remain a D-ranked investigator.

“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed,” Katerina replied, her expression neutral. “I’m not a strength-type talent. In terms of raw power, I’m an ordinary girl—I couldn’t leave a mark on that pillar.”

Chang Yu felt relieved; thankfully, she wasn’t a muscle-bound powerhouse. He shuddered at the thought of those heavily muscled women he’d seen online.

“Your turn, Feng Sanpao,” Katerina said, unconcerned by Chang Yu’s inner musings.

“Sakura-chan, Sasuke—if you must witness my dazzling form, let me put on a show~” Feng Sanpao flashed what he thought was a radiant smile, brimming with flamboyance, confidence, and a touch of self-admiration.

Chang Yu was deeply uncomfortable, goosebumps prickling his arms. Katerina’s expression was equally stiff.

“Behold my spiraling sphere!” Suddenly, Feng Sanpao shouted, startling Chang Yu.

Feng Sanpao began rubbing his hands together at incredible speed, creating afterimages. Chang Yu’s eyes couldn’t follow the movement.

A strange sight unfolded—the palm of Feng Sanpao’s hand produced a swirling vortex of energy, about the size of a goose egg.

“Is this… the legendary speed of the single man?” Chang Yu stared in shock at the azure vortex in Feng Sanpao’s hands, mouth agape.