Chapter 42: National Academy of Sciences

Falcon Squad left Director Zhao’s office and began preparations for their journey to the Imperial Capital. They had no idea how many obstacles awaited them ahead, nor whether they should delve deeper into contact with the Shadow Organization. For now, they would follow orders and wait for things to settle. As for everything else—well, they’d take it one step at a time, focusing first on improving their own skills.

It was said that this opportunity for advanced training was of tremendous importance for every agent in the National Security Council. Only those who had made outstanding contributions to the nation and its people could earn it, and each person would only have one chance in their lifetime. In times of peace, such chances were exceedingly rare; only in these chaotic days had they become more frequent, with standards even loosened somewhat to make their applications feasible.

Regardless, they now boarded a flight bound for the Imperial Capital, soon to witness the legendary headquarters for themselves. This time, however, no one was waiting to receive them—they would have to find their own way. For an agent, locating one’s destination was a basic skill, and part of their assessment.

The Imperial Capital, being the nation’s political, economic, cultural, military, and technological center, had emerged unscathed from the disaster. Perhaps its security protocols were simply higher than elsewhere, or perhaps the Shadow Organization lacked the resources to breach its defenses.

The contrast between the thriving capital and the devastated lands beyond was stark. The surviving city seemed all the more prosperous. Falcon Squad, stepping out of their military helicopter, wasted no time lingering; they headed straight for their objective.

Following the address provided by the Jiangcheng Special Operations Bureau, the four rented a car and drove from the capital’s outer ring of skyscrapers toward the lower buildings at its core. Eventually, they arrived at a quaint cinema near the third ring, where they got out.

“Is this really the place? It doesn’t look like it,” Lin Xiaofeng said as he parked, glancing at Zhang Xingmin in the passenger seat.

“If the address is correct, this is it. Let’s check it out,” Zhang replied.

The four stepped out and headed inside, only to be stopped by a portly man with a round face.

“Hey, hey, hey—you four! Yes, I mean you. What are you doing? Did you get permission to go in?” the man barked at them.

“We’re here to find someone,” Lin Xiaofeng replied, not troubled by the man’s attitude. In an unfamiliar place, it was best not to antagonize anyone.

“Oh, you’re here to find someone, eh? See that queue over there? Everyone’s here for the same reason. Things are chaotic lately, so you’ll need to register your identities first, then the person you’re looking for will come fetch you,” the man said with some arrogance.

Damin glanced over; the cinema seemed to be a temporary checkpoint, with registration staff in government uniforms. Director Zhao’s warning had been accurate—the area inside the third ring was now a special zone, off limits to outsiders. Zhang Xingmin dutifully went to join the queue.

Long Ge sized up the situation and started chatting up the portly man. Despite his laid-back arrogance, the man was surprisingly helpful, eager to share everything he knew—likely having answered the same questions dozens of times.

According to him, entry into the third ring was indeed restricted. After the disaster struck, the central government cordoned off the area as the wartime command center. He was just a cinema owner whose business, being near the third ring, had been requisitioned as an identity checkpoint. They’d caught quite a few people trying to sneak in, supposedly intelligence agents from some organization—frightening stuff.

While they spoke, trouble erupted. Zhang Xingmin had finally reached the front of the line.

“Name?”

“Zhang Xingmin.”

“Place of origin?”

“Fuzhou. Currently with the Jiangcheng Special Operations Bureau.”

The staffer looked up, noting Zhang’s military bearing and grudgingly accepted his answer.

“What brings you to the capital?”

“Looking for someone. Institute 221.”

“How many in your party?”

“Four.”

“Who are they?”

Zhang pointed to Long Ge, Xiaofeng, and Nana.

“Report! Attempted illegal entry—three men, one woman, approximately thirty years old!” the staffer immediately radioed in.

“No, wait, you must be mistaken,” Zhang protested.

“There’s no Institute 221. If you want to sneak in, at least come up with a better excuse. But you probably won’t get another chance,” the staffer replied, uninterested in further explanation—there had been too many cases lately.

Before they could react, the four were inexplicably detained. The portly man who’d been chatting with Long Ge quickly distanced himself from them as the special police arrived.

Falcon Squad was interrogated at once. When the officers learned they were from the Special Operations Division of the National Security Council, they dared not lay a finger on them, immediately reporting the situation and inquiring about Institute 221.

About two hours later, someone finally arrived to collect them, and the four were safely released.

“So there really is such an institute?” a junior police officer exclaimed, watching their retreating figures in amazement.

“They’re agents. Of course their identities aren’t common knowledge. It’s like our own special police squad—outsiders don’t know our official name either. Their level of secrecy is even higher. Take note—next time, don’t just arrest people on a whim!” a team leader, embarrassed by the mix-up, scolded the officer.

Without a word, Falcon Squad was escorted directly to the National Academy of Sciences.

After disembarking, the middle-aged man who had come to fetch them explained, “First, welcome to the Special Operations Division of the National Security Council. This is our office. On a normal day, we come and go as Academy logistics staff. Since there are so many new arrivals lately, the newly established Institute 221 is now our department.

“Normally, you would be given an address for the Academy, which is where we’re standing now. The rest is up to you—to find our department within the Academy without revealing your identity. That’s part of your assessment.

“But due to a staff error, your mission failed, so you’ll temporarily be given full marks. Now, I’ll take you in. Before we go, one reminder: from now on, if anyone asks, say you’re researchers at the Academy. Do not say you’re military, and definitely not that you’re agents.”

The four nodded and followed him inside. As they walked, the man continued, “Though we’re nominally attached to the Academy, we’re just listed here—like other departments in the National Security Council. We actually have nothing to do with the Academy. Still, appearances must be kept. If Academy staff ask, just say you’re from Institute 221—once they hear that, they’ll usually leave it at that. If strangers are present, they’ll help cover for you.”

Led by the middle-aged man, Falcon Squad entered the main building of the Academy, keeping a low profile. No one paid them any notice as they followed the special corridor down to the second basement level.

The headquarters did not immediately assign them to classes; instead, they were settled into the talent apartments like other newcomers. Preparations before courses began included physical examinations and other procedures. Only once all the special operations trainees from across the country had arrived would the courses officially begin.

Hearing about the physical exams, Long Ge grew nervous. He recalled the underground city in the Great Wilderness, where they’d not only recorded height, weight, shoulder width, arm span, chest, waist, hips, thigh and calf circumference, fingerprints—but also collected blood, tissue, and muscle samples. They’d even tracked their sleep, whether they snored, and so on.

Would it happen again here? He still had nightmares about those collection devices in the Great Wilderness; the ordeal had nearly separated him from his brother, and even a simple blood draw had left his arm swollen for days. He had no idea what they’d done to him.