Biocores: The Legendary Weapon Designer-Chapter 61: Entry Examinations

The night was dark and silent in the empty clearing where the token had led Nioh. Lying on the cool grass, he gazed at the stars, their distant lights flickering against the vast, unending sky.

The clearing was deep within the expanse, yet strangely devoid of feral biocores. The grass was untouched, the air still, as if the place had been maintained over the years for a specific purpose. Nioh had been here for an entire day now, waiting. But there had been no movement—neither from the clearing nor from the token in his hand.

Then, without warning—

"I can’t believe someone actually came to the expanse entry point," a voice spoke.

Nioh shot up, muscles tensing. He hadn’t heard the voice. But he had seen it—the sudden spike in harmonic sound waves. His breath caught as his body instinctively took several steps back, eyes snapping toward the source.

For the first time in a long while, real alarm settled in his chest. Despite his heightened senses, he had failed to detect a single fluctuation until the man spoke. In a real battle, he would have already been dead.

"You cannot defeat him. Don’t even try," Ekoh warned in his mind.

The man lifted the torch he held, casting an amber glow over the clearing. Nioh, still on high alert, took advantage of the light to study him.

He was tall and fair-skinned, dressed in a pristine navy-blue military uniform—jacket fitted neatly, pants crisp, polished black boots planted firmly on the ground. A long spear rested on his back, while a sidearm was strapped securely at his waist. His dark, almost ink-black hair was long, cascading past his shoulders, his demeanor calm, polished—an image of discipline.

In contrast, Nioh was wild. His hair was short and uneven from old burns. His body was marred with scars, and a rough bandage covered half his face. He must have looked like a feral scavenger in front of the man.

The stranger examined him in silence before speaking again. "Show me your token."

Nioh lifted his hand, displaying the small metallic object.

The man tapped something on his wrist. In an instant, a violet tear split the air behind him, stretching outward until it expanded into a swirling portal.

"Follow me." He turned and stepped through.

Nioh hesitated for a second. Then, without another word, he followed.

—

The transition was disorienting.

The darkness of the expanse vanished, replaced by blinding light. For a few moments, Nioh staggered, his vision struggling to adjust to the stark, white tunnel stretching before him. The air was sterile, humming with an unseen energy.

"This is the depressurization tunnel," the man explained, unaffected by the shift. "Every entry requires this process to prevent external contamination. The only way into this place is through an entry point. There are thousands of them across the world. Your token will guide you whenever you’re close to one."

As they walked, Nioh’s vision adjusted. The tunnel was impossibly smooth, lacking any visible seams, and the air had a faint metallic taste.

"Each year, thousands of these tokens are sent out, inviting select individuals to participate in the trials. Most of the applicants have already learned their fate. You are one of the few still being tested."

At the tunnel’s end, they stepped into a vast, bronze-colored hall.

The architecture was monumental—colossal pillars stretched toward the ceiling, supporting a structure that radiated quiet authority. Flowing patterns adorned the walls, shifting as they caught the ambient light. The hall wasn’t empty. Hundreds of newcomers stood in organized clusters, each paired with a guide dressed in the same navy-blue uniform.

Nioh glanced at his own handler. Unlike the others, his seemed particularly disinterested, offering only the bare minimum of explanation.

"By arriving at an entry point, you have passed the first test—exploration sense," the man continued. "Next, you will be evaluated on your general knowledge. A full physical and medical profile will be established."

Then, after a pause, the man turned to him. "You are very disrespectful, aren’t you?"

Nioh frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"I’ve been speaking this entire time, and you haven’t even removed your headphones. No acknowledgment, no diligence."

Nioh exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "First, you never asked a question, so I had no reason to speak. Second, I am deaf. This is my translator."

The man’s expression shifted slightly, though it was hard to tell whether it was surprise or something else.

"You’re not afraid, are you?"

"Should I be?"

The man chuckled, though there was no warmth in it. "You have no idea where you’ve landed."

His voice grew sharper.

"I don’t know where you came from or what big shot you think you are. S-tier physiques, Biocore abilities, exceptional Mechas, the richest, the strongest, the noblest—we have them like grains of sand on a beach. Everyone here is a genius."

He turned, leading Nioh toward another chamber.

This time, the room was brightly lit, filled with sleek machinery and medical stations. Six individuals in lab coats stood at various points, monitoring equipment. The air was cold—unnervingly so. The ventilation system hummed faintly, sending an icy breeze over Nioh’s skin.

A deep sense of unease settled over him.

Not because of the machines. Not because of the tests.

But because the sterile scent, the white lights, the distant hum of equipment—

It reminded him of his childhood.

"Grimmes, is this your mentee?" The lead scientist’s voice cut through the sterile air, inadvertently revealing the identity of the man who had accompanied Nioh so far.

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Doctor Lux," Grimmes interjected, his tone sharp.

The scientist stepped forward, her gaze keen with curiosity. "I am Doctor Lux. I’ll be overseeing your passive evaluations," she said, handing Nioh a sleek tablet.

"Nioh," he responded simply, accepting the device.

"Follow me. We’ll get started." She led him to a chair, her voice clinical yet efficient. "While you input your personal details, I’ll be attaching pods to monitor your vitals and drawing blood for testing. May I remove your bandages?"

Nioh gave her a brief nod of approval.

"As soon as that’s done, you’ll begin a one-thousand-question exam. You have twenty minutes to answer as many as possible. My team and I will monitor your physiological and neurological responses in real time."

With practiced precision, she donned surgical gloves and carefully sliced away the grimy bandages wrapped around Nioh’s torso and face. The sight beneath was not for the faint-hearted—burn scars, deep lacerations, and the jagged remnants of past wounds. Yet her expression remained unreadable as she worked, inserting electrodes along his body and drawing a sample of his blood with a steady hand.

Once the setup was complete, she joined the other scientists at the monitoring station, Grimmes standing beside them with his arms crossed.

"You can begin," she instructed.

A holographic display flickered to life, projecting a detailed anatomical scan of Nioh’s body. Doctor Lux’s sharp eyes analyzed the data scrolling before her.

"S-tier Biocore," she announced. "High-grade body frame. His recent injuries have severely impacted his physical stats... I’d guess an explosion, given the burn patterns."

"Can he recover?" Grimmes asked, his gaze never leaving the screen.

"Difficult to say without further testing," she admitted. "But look at his growth rate—four-star level at just sixteen. That puts him ahead of ninety percent of our candidates."

Another scientist leaned in, pointing at a spiking graph. "His brain activity is off the charts—200% over our maximum threshold, and there’s no sign of strain. Under extreme conditions, he could likely push it to 400 or even 500%. His synchronization rate with his Biocore must be extraordinary."

Doctor Lux’s brow furrowed. "Wait... What’s this dead zone here?"

"He’s deaf," Grimmes stated.

A brief silence followed. Then, Lux exhaled, shaking her head. "The auditory nerves are completely destroyed. Beyond repair."

"Can you identify his Biocore?" Grimmes pressed.

"No... but it’s a complex forehead-bound type. The energy signature is incredibly pure."

As the scientists deliberated, a voice broke through their discussion.

"I’m done."

Doctor Lux blinked. "What?"

"The test," Nioh repeated, his expression impassive. "I’m done."

"That’s impossible," Lux muttered, pulling up his results. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Math: 100%. Biology: 100%. Electronics: 100%. Military Strategy: 100%... He aced nearly everything." Her voice rose slightly. "He missed only two questions."

The room fell into stunned silence.

"What were they?" Grimmes asked.

Lux’s fingers tapped rapidly on the screen. "’What color is the sky?’ and ’How old are you?’" She narrowed her eyes. "He’s messing with us."

One of the psychologists hesitated before speaking. "Doctor Lux, I— I can’t get a precise psychological reading."

Lux’s jaw clenched. "Move aside," she ordered, pushing forward to examine the data herself.

A heavy stillness filled the lab.

She turned to Grimmes, her voice unusually serious. "He maxed out on all emotional parameters." She flicked the results onto the holographic display. "Either he’s a god... or the most dangerous psychopath we’ve ever encountered."

Grimmes let out a low chuckle. "Interesting. When was the last time we had an anomaly like this?"

Lux’s expression hardened. "You can’t be serious about passing him. The last time someone let an anomaly through, millions died."

Grimmes exhaled, rolling his shoulders as a grin played on his lips. "When was the last time you found a seed this exceptional? Rare forehead-bound Biocore. S-tier classification. Off-the-charts intelligence. And, on top of that... he came through the Expense."

He shook his head, as if amused by fate itself.

"I specifically chose the Expense entry point because I was certain no one would dare use it." His grin widened. "Yet here he is."

A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest.

"What could be greater than one anomaly raising another?"