Chapter Five: Ji Cheng's Original Assimilation Degree

“I’m sorry, someone just reported you,” the man in the suit said seriously. From the nameplate on his chest, it was clear he was a manager-level figure. “The front desk checked your record; your most recent best result is 55% original body assimilation. You are not qualified to take the test on the seventh floor.”

“If you insist, according to regulations, we will call for security,” a familiar voice echoed from farther away.

Ji Cheng looked up. It was the elevator attendant who had greeted him earlier. He stood not far away, respectful in expression but with a hint of encouragement in his eyes, as if eager for Ji Cheng to stir up trouble.

With the promise of excitement, the surrounding crowd gradually gathered.

“You seem to meddle a bit too much,” Ji Cheng suddenly smiled—a smile that sent chills down spines. “Just afraid you won’t call enough people; it won’t be lively enough.”

No, no, that’s not what I meant, let’s talk this through, don’t call anyone. Ji Cheng regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. He realized now that the original body’s penchant for courting danger was truly troublesome.

He couldn’t control himself at all!

Ji Cheng switched to a peaceful and friendly look, hoping to show submission.

Hopefully, the elevator attendant would understand.

Yet he could never have guessed that, though this body was handsome, it carried a natural aura of a villainous boss; the friendly gaze he intended was, to others, fiercely domineering.

The elevator attendant was about to respond, but upon seeing Ji Cheng’s eyes, he felt a sudden chill.

This young man, barely seventeen or eighteen, gave him an unnerving sense of dread.

Still, he mustered his courage and said, “Then try it, if you dare.”

With a rush, the crowd parted. Out strode a burly man in his thirties, wearing an open-chested training suit, his hair wild as a lion’s mane.

At his appearance, the noise around diminished. A few eyed him with hostility; others nodded in greeting; several middle-aged men quickly made way for him.

Among gene original injectees, similar strength was measured by youth. Youth meant potential, a greater chance to pass the ability selection.

This burly man, in his thirties, was in the prime age for becoming an ability user. Even those in their forties or fifties, with higher assimilation, dared not block his path.

His thick brows and deep eyes, speaking with a nasal tone, he advised, “Little brother, don’t bother with these types.”

Ji Cheng sensed the man was on his side and nodded gratefully, “Thank you, brother!”

The man came beside Ji Cheng, lowering his voice to comfort him. “You look unfamiliar; probably new to New City. Things here are not like elsewhere. Life is cheap—even if you’ve injected gene originals, if trouble starts, it’s hard to clean up.”

No matter the disputes among gene injectees, it was the circle’s own business. Outsiders had no right to mock or provoke; it was a matter of class pride.

So—

When Ji Cheng faced an outsider’s provocation, someone would inevitably step forward.

“Take my advice, just work your way up, step by step. You’re still young; 55% assimilation is already impressive. Go test downstairs—the equipment isn’t much different.”

“Brother Wang, why bother? If he wants to embarrass himself, let him.”

Ji Cheng shook his head seriously. “Thank you, but I’m confident in my strength.”

Though he didn’t want trouble, he needed to test on the seventh floor.

“Security office, seventh floor testing center calling for security.”

“Calling for security?!” The lion-maned Brother Wang brusquely slapped away the elevator attendant’s earpiece. “Don’t think I don’t know what you people are up to—how many injectees have you detained lately under the guise of disturbances?”

The elevator attendant was cowed by Brother Wang’s imposing presence and stood frozen.

The manager in the suit frowned. “Please refrain from spreading rumors.”

Brother Wang retorted angrily, “Rumors? Ha! You’ve always treated us as monstrous beasts, haven’t you?”

At this, the surrounding injectees cast unfriendly glances their way.

Gene original injectees possessed powers beyond normal humans, but the physical mutations were painful reminders. If they failed to become ability users, these mutations would haunt them forever.

Those confident enough to come to the seventh floor were generally strong. Being stared at by more than a dozen of them—such pressure was far beyond what two ordinary people could bear. The manager and the elevator attendant both turned pale.

“Ji Cheng, Testing Room Five.” Amidst the chaos outside, an electronic voice broadcast at just the right moment.

“My turn,” Ji Cheng breathed out.

Everyone’s gaze focused on him. What would he do?

Seeing their doubts, Ji Cheng calmly stood from the sofa and strode toward Room Five.

There were six rooms here—used for both testing and training. Their specially engineered structure could withstand the havoc wreaked by these inhuman beings.

“The fox spirit is in Room Two, I’m in Room Five, and the other rooms seem busy as well. Quite a few people testing today.”

As he mused, the door to Room Two suddenly opened. Hu Xian swaggered out, face full of pride.

No one paid attention to Ji Cheng now. The impatient ones rushed to greet Hu Xian, while a few younger ones eyed him warily.

Their reaction was clearly expected by Hu Xian; the smugness on his face nearly spilled over. He loudly settled in, boasting to a few acquaintances.

“Brother Hu, you’re ferocious—26 years old and already at 82% assimilation. I’m over fifty and only just crossed 80%.”

The speaker was a man in his fifties.

“Haha, hardly.”

“My daughter’s about your age—she cooks a mean chicken. Come to my house tomorrow for a drink?”

Someone immediately interrupted, “Old Zhang, you just want a son-in-law. He won’t be interested!”

Old Zhang just laughed, unfazed, patting his belly, “Don’t you know the value of good genes?”

Everyone burst into laughter, and the tense atmosphere eased.

Seeing Hu Xian didn’t notice him, and Room Five’s door had been open for a while, Ji Cheng turned and strode in. With a soft sound, the door closed behind him.

As soon as he entered, Ji Cheng’s hair stood on end. He felt uneasy.

He sensed something nearby watching him, making him restless.

“Please come forward a bit.” A voice, ethereal and almost unreal, sounded from not far away.

Ji Cheng focused on his surroundings. The testing room was brightly lit—even the side walls had lamps, so his shadow was invisible.

To the left stood a massive, cloth-draped instrument; directly ahead, a floating platform emitted a pale blue light screen.

Ji Cheng’s gaze lingered on the face smiling from the light screen. “Hello, madam.”

Before him was an intelligent lifeform.

“Greetings, Mr. Ji. There may have been an ability user monitoring the situation earlier. Please forgive any discomfort caused.”

“No problem.” He curiously observed her. These intelligent lifeforms weren’t created by Baishan Star; they were relics from before contact was lost with the Galactic Empire.

Some were captured and used by Baishan Star’s new regime; others had gestalt breakdowns, becoming ruthless guardians of underground labs.

The lady before him clearly belonged to the stable kind.

“Please begin the test.”

Ji Cheng nodded, approaching the massive instrument. He lifted the cloth and stepped inside, immediately feeling the weight increase.

“The gravity well will reach peak energy in one minute. You’ll hear a beep—when prompted, please demonstrate your maximum strength and speed. No need to worry about damaging the equipment.”

As the ethereal voice faded, layers of light mesh began scanning Ji Cheng from head to toe, the heaviness intensifying.

“Inhale, exhale, inhale!”

Ji Cheng breathed deeply, adjusting to the increasing gravity, slowly finding his optimal state. He was full of confidence—even if the original body’s best record was only 55% gene original assimilation.

“These country bumpkins on Baishan Star don’t even know about mimicry. First-tier gene originals only require mimicry to easily reach over 80% assimilation.”

Each sequence of gene original had its exclusive method. For example, ‘Gene Original—Lynx’ was the most basic, and its assimilation method was mimicry.

A moth perches on tree bark, changing color to blend in. A mantis mimics dead leaves, both luring prey and avoiding birds. In biology, this is called mimicry.

Basic gene originals were extracted from real animals via nucleotide purification and separation. Injectees had to imitate the animal’s posture and actions to increase assimilation.

It was never the physical training these Baishan Star folks imagined.

“I know the lynx’s mimicry inside out.” As gravity increased, Ji Cheng crouched, toes raised, fingertips pressed lightly to the floor.

A tingling sensation radiated from his bones. Ji Cheng, excited, arched his back like a feline. He felt every muscle group tightening under the gravitational pull tugging at his cells.

This was exactly what he wanted. He had come to the seventh floor so defiantly because the gravity well here was powerful enough to quickly boost his ‘Gene Original—Lynx’ assimilation.

Beep beep beep!

—Test started. This process will be recorded and used for subsequent evaluation.

A slightly piercing beep rang overhead; gravity suddenly grew immense, but Ji Cheng insisted on supporting himself only with toes and fingers.

“This is a rare opportunity. The initial boost in mimicry assimilation is the greatest—later progress slows.” Ji Cheng pondered, “If I can raise my assimilation to around 85% this time, I’ll have confidence to push to 90% in about a year—then I can join next year’s ability selection.”

He began to mentally visualize the lynx’s hunting scenes.

The lynx in “The Great Galaxy” lived mainly on tundra planets; its body was leopard-like, not as strong, but more agile.

Ji Cheng, seasoned in countless alternate accounts, was most adept at the ‘Gene Original—Lynx’ start. He knew every subtle movement of the lynx.

His muscles tensed and relaxed in turn, spine slowly arching with each breath, his gaze flashing with the cold light of a predator spotting prey.

“Hiss.” Ji Cheng let out a cub-like sound from his throat.

He seemed to see, before him, a spotted antelope drinking by a wild stream, while he was the cold-blooded hunter, cloaked in moonlight, treading with feline precision, paws brushing aside wild grass, avoiding stones, eliminating any chance of alerting his prey, inching closer… closer…

Pounce! He sprang forward.

Beep beep beep.

The beeps sounded again; gravity eased, signaling the end of the test.

A screen lit up inside the instrument, and a string of text appeared simultaneously on the room’s external display:

[Name: Ji Cheng]
[Age: 18]
[Gene Original: Lynx]
[Muscle Tissue Strength: 857 (980)]
[Neural Reflex Speed: 1214 (1310)]
[Cellular Activity: 902 (1040)]
[Original Body Assimilation: 89%]