1.02.2 The fool will go with you.

When Jeremy didn't see Dan immediately after the ceremony, he wasn't particularly worried. The school grounds were tightly guarded, and every student was accounted for using the badges pinned to their shirts. Any disappearance or anomaly would be flagged by the faculty almost immediately.

Jeremy didn't think much of it. After all, he had expected to see Dan after the testing was over, assuming the boy had simply been delayed.

But as time passed, that expectation faded. "Still not here? Is everything fine?" Jeremy muttered to himself, recalling how some students had been sent to the infirmary after prematurely experimenting with their abilities. Considering Dan's simple and impulsive nature, it wouldn't have been surprising if he'd ended up there too.

Jeremy made up his mind. He would visit the ward after his testing was complete.

"---7/3/2. This... this is the highest talent score of this batch. Congratulations, Jeremy Reinhardt," announced the staff overseeing the testing machine.

Jeremy froze, his thoughts momentarily derailed by the result. "So high?" he murmured, stunned.

"You should stay here," one of the staff members suggested, their tone both congratulatory and serious. "For someone with your talent, it's likely your awakened ability is just as remarkable. You'll have eyes on you from now on."

Jeremy noticed the weight of those words as the gazes around him shifted. The staff, and even the nearby guards, had already started to scrutinize him. His talent had clearly attracted attention.

His thoughts didn't linger on it for long, however, as another announcement echoed nearby:

"---3/4/6. Congratulations to Yydvin Lass. Your score is among the highest this year..."

Jeremy noted the result but quickly realized something important: while Yydvin's score was high, it still fell below his own. It was a distinction Jeremy hadn't initially considered but one that the world around them would not ignore.

Talent rankings weren't as simple as numbers. Though Jeremy and Yydvin's totals were nearly identical, the distribution mattered. Every three levels in talent marked a new realm of power. Even if Yydvin achieved 6/6/6 across all ranks, he would still lag behind Jeremy's 7/1/1 score.

This disparity was not lost on Yydvin, whose annoyance was thinly veiled.

"You've just got a better starting point," Yydvin said coolly, his voice tinged with frustration. "Appreciate it while you can." Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.

Jeremy sighed, shaking his head. 'This guy... I can't even get angry at him.'

Jeremy's own testing resumed, and soon, the nature of his awakened ability was revealed.

"Regeneration?" he said aloud, reading the report in disbelief.

"Indeed, Jeremy. It seems your father's endurance evolved further in you, manifesting as regeneration," one of the staff explained.

Jeremy's father was a renowned pugilist, famous for his unmatched endurance. He could fight for days, even with grievous injuries, and was often described as a perpetual motion machine. But regeneration? That was something far beyond even his father's capabilities.

'I can finally join the Immortal Corps.' The thought struck Jeremy like a bolt of lightning. The Immortal Corps, also known as the Monster Army, was humanity's most elite force. Their sacrificial tactics used forbidden techniques without hesitation, moves that most fighters reserved for their last stand. To even qualify for this group, regeneration was the bare minimum requirement.

'Enough, this is enough.' Jeremy clenched his fists, his resolve sharpening.

Abilities, unlike talents, were typically kept secret. It was a matter of strategy and security. Only the LOA, or the awakened individuals themselves, could decide to reveal them publicly.

"Hey, Jeremy! I heard you got the highest talent score in the batch!"

Jeremy was pulled from his thoughts by the familiar voices of his classmates. They crowded around him, their curiosity evident.

The group's conversation turned lively as they shared their own scores. Some beamed with pride, thrilled to have scored a 3 in any category, while others were noticeably quieter, their faces shadowed with disappointment.

Jeremy, ever the good-natured soul, tried to lighten the mood. He shifted the conversation to safer topics, like rumors about runners, which successfully lifted his friends' spirits.

"Oh, I've got a better story," one student chimed in, his eyes alight with excitement. "This is what Reshma told me after she froze her finger and had to go to the infirmary. While she was there, there was this scream—loud enough to shake everyone, even the doctors. They all rushed toward it, thinking a murder had happened!"

"Who was it?" another student asked eagerly.

"Reshma didn't find out," the boy replied with a shrug. "It was probably someone from another class. Nobody from our group is missing."

The story seemed unimportant to most of the group, but for Jeremy, it triggered a sinking feeling. He hadn't seen Dan. He hadn't even heard anything about him.

"You guys stay here. I'll be back in a minute," Jeremy said abruptly, leaving the group and heading straight for the infirmary.

When he arrived, everything appeared normal. Nurses bustled about, and the atmosphere seemed calm.

"Excuse me," Jeremy approached a nurse, his voice steady but insistent. "I'm looking for a boy named Dan."

The nurse hesitated, her hand hovering over the records. She glanced at Jeremy, then back at the file, before stuttering, "Uh... there's no one by that name here."

Her lie was glaringly obvious. Jeremy's brow furrowed.

"Not here? I brought him to the awakening venue myself. He stood right beside me. How can you say there's no record of him?" His voice grew sharper, his concern mounting.

"I'm just... I'm just reading what's on the file," the nurse stammered, avoiding his gaze.

Jeremy's frustration boiled over. "Are you telling me that even with tight security, a mentally challenged kid like him managed to disappear? Or are you hiding him for some reason?"

The nurse froze, unsure of how to respond. Jeremy pressed on, his voice unwavering.

"I know about the screams. Tell me who it was. What happened to that student?"

The nurse's resolve crumbled. She turned to a nearby doctor, silently pleading for help.

The doctor, aware of Jeremy's identity and status, frowned deeply. 'This is troublesome,' he thought, debating how to handle the situation.

"I'll inform the higher-ups," the doctor finally said, motioning for Jeremy to wait.

Jeremy didn't realize it yet, but his questions had reached the ears of both Principal Jalgan and Officer Sarina.

Jeremy's persistence had become a thorn in Sarina's side, and Jalgan could no longer ignore the growing tension.

"Someone like him is asking for Dan. Are you going to ignore it?" Jalgan's voice was sharp, his words laced with frustration. The moral spat between him and Sarina had reached a boiling point. "The world may be falling apart, but that doesn't mean we have to become a pack of beasts."

Sarina's response was cold and calculated. "You know the answer already," she said, her tone void of emotion. She understood all too well that once questions were asked, problems would inevitably follow.

Bribing Jeremy into silence wasn't an option. His father wasn't just anyone—he was the master of the Ironsight Mercenary Corps. Money was of little consequence to their family. That left Sarina with one alternative: diplomacy, tempered with veiled coercion.

"Call him in," she ordered. "I'll see to it that this drama doesn't escalate further."

Jalgan sighed heavily, unwilling but ultimately resigned.

Jeremy was allowed deeper into the premises, where the truth awaited him. As for why he wasn't taken directly to Dan? That was obvious. No one could predict how Jeremy might react upon seeing the boy's current state, and any outburst could complicate matters further.

'Hopefully, he's fine,' Jeremy prayed silently as he stepped into the office where the grim discussion about Dan's fate was already underway.

What followed was a revelation that left Jeremy reeling. He learned of the harrowing details surrounding the awakening ceremony—the risks, the dangers, and the irreversible damage it had inflicted on Dan.

Jeremy's face twisted in anguish. "What... how? Why was someone like him even allowed to go through awakening?" His voice cracked as he spoke, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him.

He paused, memories of Yydvin's arrogant words flashing through his mind. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Jeremy couldn't help but admit the truth: 'Yydvin was right.'

Sarina's calm, measured tone cut through the silence. "You should understand better than anyone, Jeremy. The dangers that loom on our borders—Australia wasn't the first to fall, and it won't be the last. If we limit ourselves with the outdated morals of the old world, humanity won't survive. Even a fool has a part to play."

Her words hit like a hammer, pragmatic and merciless. "You understand why I'm telling you this, don't you, Jeremy?" she asked, her gaze sharp and unyielding.

Jeremy was silent for a moment, his thoughts swirling in chaos. Finally, he turned to Jalgan.

"Sir, what will happen to Dan? He has nobody, and with him coming of age, he'll be kicked out of the orphanage soon. At the very least, the government should take responsibility for what it's done to him. Shouldn't they?"

Jalgan's expression darkened. He shook his head. "Resources are reserved for those more deserving, Jeremy. The best we can do is treat him now and release him when he's capable of walking again."

"This is cruel," Jeremy whispered, his voice trembling. "Inhuman, even..."

"Inhuman?" Sarina's voice was sharp. "There are thousands of cases like his in the world. Wake up, Jeremy. Or better yet, if you're so unwilling to face reality, take responsibility for him yourself. As long as you don't breathe a word of what happened here, we'll give you full authority to handle the boy as you see fit."

Jeremy's eyes widened slightly at her words. For a moment, he recalled Yydvin's mocking face. 'He was right,' Jeremy thought bitterly. 'I shouldn't have intervened then.'

But it was too late for regret. The least he could do now was make amends.

Jeremy's expression hardened, resolve replacing hesitation. "I'll take him," he said firmly. "Once the day is over, I'll request a transfer of Dan to my family. We'll take care of him."