N-A-A Chapter 706: As annoying as ever!
Chapter 706: As annoying as ever!
Lynn drove the car toward the visitor access area and said casually, "Watch your words."
“I can’t find anything better.” Matteo’s eyes were practically popping out of their sockets. “This place…is it really an academy?”
"Correct."
"Is it some kind of secret base disguised as an academy?"
"To some extent, it has both."
The car slowly pulled up in front of the reception area. Three people were already waiting there—two men and a woman—none dressed formally. A slightly older, gray-haired man stood at the front, exuding a professor-like air, as if he could see right through you. Another young woman held a tablet, her short hair neatly styled, her eyes clear and bright. The last, a tall man, leaned against a railing, holding a coffee. He raised his hand slightly in greeting as the car arrived.
Matteo stared at them, a hint of genuine tension suddenly mingling with the excitement he had felt moments before. He instinctively touched his seatbelt buckle but didn't immediately unbuckle it.
Lynn turned off the engine and looked at him sideways: "It's not too late to regret it now."
Matteo immediately glared at him: "Don't give me that."
"Then get off the bus."
Matteo gritted his teeth, unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbed his bag, and pushed open the door to get out. The moment his feet touched the floor of the academy's reception area, he could feel that his heartbeat was completely different from the rapid, chaotic rhythm he'd experienced the night before by the wire mesh and under the manhole cover. It was still fast, but mixed with something he hadn't felt in a long time—anticipation.
Lynn got out of the car from the other side, walked around the front of the car, and shook hands with the person who came to pick her up.
The gray-haired man nodded at him: "Was the journey smooth?"
“Successfully,” Lynn said. “This is Matteo.”
The other person turned to Matteo, without the coldness of someone scrutinizing an experimental subject, but rather like a school administrator accustomed to dealing with all sorts of complex students: "Welcome. You can call me Ashford."
Matteo froze for a moment, trying to avoid looking like a clueless idiot: "...Hello."
The short-haired woman flipped through her tablet, looked up at him and smiled: "Don't be nervous, I'll handle the initial assessment and adaptation arrangements. You won't be thrown into some kind of exaggerated training room right away today."
The tall man raised his coffee cup: "Logistics and venue coordination. Just so you know, the cafeteria is better than you think."
Matteo paused for a moment: "How did you know I was thinking about the cafeteria?"
The other person laughed: "Every newcomer wants that."
These few words back and forth eased his shoulders a bit. But even as he relaxed, he couldn't help turning to look at Lynn, as if to confirm, "You really will hand me over to these people."
Lynn caught that look and simply said, "Next, we'll register, do the admission assessment, and check out the dorms. I won't leave until all the procedures are completed."
Matteo finally calmed down a bit: "Okay."
Ashford, seemingly oblivious to the subtle connection between them, simply stepped aside and gestured for them to come in: "Let's go in first. Lynn has probably already said a lot on the way, but you'll understand better once you see for yourself what's going on here."
Matteo, carrying his bag, followed them toward the main building. The path beneath their feet was a well-maintained stone path, the grass beside it meticulously tended. In the distance, the faint rumble of vibrations from a training ground could be heard—not loud, but enough to suggest this was no place for mere theoretical lectures in classrooms. Further on, people could be seen emerging from the side wing; some carried books, others gestured as they walked. Occasionally, an unnatural flash of light or the movement of a breeze would flicker in the air, so fast it seemed like an illusion.
Matteo could barely keep up with the sights, yet he tried his best not to appear overly alarmed. But the more composed he pretended, the brighter the light in his eyes became.
Lynn walked beside him and whispered, "Don't fall."
"I didn't—"
Before Matteo could finish his sentence, he nearly tripped over a protruding edge of the stone path, immediately regaining his balance with a dark expression. The tall man next to him couldn't help but burst out laughing. Even Ashford's lips twitched.
Matteo Ergen's face flushed red: "There's something wrong with this road."
"Welcome to the first lesson," Lynn said without changing his expression. "Watch where you're going."
The main lobby was spacious and quiet, with sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows above, casting soft patches of color on the floor. The registration process was simpler than Matteo had imagined, lacking the elaborate array of equipment and focusing more on document verification, basic safety instructions, and preliminary assessments of his abilities. The short-haired woman—her name was Mira—asked him several questions: When did he first experience a crystallization reaction? How painful was it? Were there any accompanying hearing changes? Which came first, his emotions or his physical reactions? What was the first thing he wanted to do when he lost control? Matteo visibly paused when she asked the last question.
Mira didn't urge him; she just looked at him calmly.
“...I want to get rid of whatever's in my way,” Matteo said in a low voice.
Mira nodded and quickly wrote it down: "Okay. Honesty is a good thing."
"What kind of good thing is this?"
“It counts for an assessment.” Mira looked up. “Don’t worry, we’ve seen much worse answers.”
After registration, Ashford asked the logistics staff to take Matteo to see the temporary accommodations first, and then asked Lynn to go to the office next door to hand over the remaining documents. Matteo instinctively wanted to follow, and even took half a step, but then stopped, as if realizing that he couldn't act like a child who needed to be led around as soon as he entered the room.
Lynn glanced at him: "Go ahead. I'll be there in ten minutes."
“You said it,” Matteo said in a low voice.
"I said it."
The tall man placed his coffee cup on the table and gestured with his chin towards Matteo: "Come on, let me show you the way. We'll also see how many times you get lost in the next few days."
Why am I destined to get lost?
“Because everyone does it,” the other person laughed, “including the person next to you when they first came.”
Matt immediately turned to look at Lynn: "Really?"
Lynn's expression remained unchanged: "It's fake."
The tall man's smile widened: "He almost got himself transferred to the training wing backfield back then."
Matteo immediately wore a smug look of "I knew it!" and said, "I've got it."
Lynn ignored him, watching him walk out of the hall with the man. Matteo took a couple of steps, then looked back. That glance was brief, but it wasn't the subconscious defensiveness of last night, like checking for an escape route; it was more like he was saying: I'm really in.
Lynn stood still and nodded slightly.
Ten minutes later, when he went to the dormitory wing to look for someone, Matteo was standing by the window at the end of the second-floor corridor, looking out. The temporary dormitory wasn't large, but it was clean and bright, and outside the window, one could see a lawn and the semi-open training area further away. Hearing footsteps, Matteo immediately turned around, his eyes still brimming with excitement.
"Did you see that outside?" he asked in a low voice, as if afraid others would hear that he was too excited. "Someone just made a whole patch of pebbles float up on the edge of the grass."
"Ah."
"And that glass-like area over there, is that a training ground?"
"I am one of them."
“Damn, really—” Matteo swallowed back the swear word and changed it to “really different.” Lynn walked in and handed him the last college acceptance receipt: “Sign.”
Matteo took it, glanced at it, and instead of signing it immediately, he looked up and asked, "You're leaving after you sign it?"
"I'll go back to New York as soon as the handover is over," Lynn said.
Matteo paused noticeably, as if only now truly realizing that from the moment he made that stroke, he would be stuck there.
“…Oh,” he said.
Lynn looked at him: "What, chickened out?"
“No,” Matteo immediately retorted, then lowered his voice, “It’s just a little strange.”
"normal."
"Aren't you saying 'normal' a bit too many times?"
“Because many of your reactions are normal,” Lynn said. “There’s nothing shameful about that.”
Matteo didn't say anything, only bowed his head and signed his name. The handwriting wasn't very steady, but it was much clearer than when he signed interrogation records at the branch offices before. After signing, he handed the paper back, but didn't immediately retract his hand.
“Hey.” He looked at Lynn.
"explain."
“If I really do learn something here,” Matt paused, as if to put back the cheesy words he was about to say, and finally just said, “Don’t pretend you’re not surprised at all.”
Lynn looked at him for a few seconds before saying, "That depends on how well you learn it."
"You're really something—"
“And another thing,” Lynn interrupted him, “Don’t try to outdo others in toughness during the first week. Don’t use the crystallization reaction as a tool for spite. Follow the rules for assessments, training, eating, and sleeping. What you need most right now isn’t to prove yourself, but to solidify your foundation.”
Matteo pursed his lips: "Why do you suddenly sound like my sister?"
"Because she's right."
"Alright then." Matteo leaned against the window, his bag still at the foot of the bed, sunlight slanting across his shoulder. "I'll try my best."
Lynn looked at him, paused for a moment, and then said, "I'll send a message to Carmela. Once you're settled in, remember to contact her too."
“I know,” Matteo said in a low voice. “She practically nags me to death this morning.”
"Then you'd better learn your lesson."
Matteo smiled, a slight smile, but one that seemed more genuine than ever before.
A bell suddenly rang out downstairs, silent yet clear, like a notification of some kind of schedule change within the academy. Someone passed by in the corridor, their footsteps light. In the distance, another low, resounding impact echoed from the training area, as if some force had been steadily drawn back within its boundaries.
Matteo listened to those sounds, turned his head to look outside, and his eyes were so bright they were almost burning.
“I will learn,” he said, as if not as a promise to anyone, but as if he were saying to himself for the first time very seriously, “I will learn this time.”
Lynn stood by the door, saying nothing more. He knew he had led the way to the door; the rest was up to Matteo to walk alone.
He looked back once before leaving the dormitory wing.
Matteo was still standing by the window, his shadow outlined faintly in the afternoon light. This young man had once understood "becoming stronger" as something to frighten people, to make them back off, to make him feel like a hard, thorny rock. But now, he stood in an academy that truly taught people how to face their abilities and how to face themselves. The faint marks on the back of his hands were hidden under his sleeve, not used as tools or numbered by anyone, nor written into the "usable" evaluation column. He had just signed his name, not for inquiries, not for drugs, not for being registered in some chain, but to begin a training program that truly belonged to him.
Lynn went downstairs, walked back to the reception area, and sent a short message to Carmela under the shade of the trees outside.
"Arrived safely. Handover complete. He is in good condition."
The phone vibrated a few seconds after the message was sent. Carmela replied quickly.
"Thank you. Make sure he contacts me tonight."
Lynn looked at the line of text, her lips twitched slightly, and she replied with a "Yes".
Ashford came down the steps of the main building and stood beside him: "He has good eyesight."
"What do you mean?"
"Before they even learn to control themselves, their eyes already show a drive to move forward." Ashford looked in the direction of the dormitory wing in the distance. "These kinds of students are difficult to teach, but once they truly understand why they are learning, they often do quite well."
Lynn glanced at him: "Are you trying to comfort me?"
“I’m stating my experience,” Ashford said. “This isn’t the first time you’ve sent someone here, but this time you seem to care more than before.”
"Your observation skills are as annoying as ever."
Ashford chuckled. "Likewise."
Lynn didn't answer the call again. She turned her head and glanced at the main building of the college, which stood quietly among the tree lines and shadows, before getting into the car.
After the car drove out of the outer sheltered area of the college, Lynn did not immediately take her eyes off the rearview mirror.
In the rearview mirror, the forest path, the stone trail, and the silhouette of the buildings, quiet under the sunlight, had gradually faded into shadows behind the trees. Driving further, even those shadows disappeared, leaving only an ordinary, unremarkable forest road. It was as if no school, training ground, or force capable of lifting pebbles had ever been hidden there, nor had a young person with a backpack walked in, their eyes burning with excitement.
He looked at it for two seconds before turning his gaze back to the road.
The road conditions were easier in the afternoon than in the morning, and he drove very steadily. The handover package and receipt from the academy were on the passenger seat, and Carmela's message remained at the top of the screen, not scrolling down. Lynn didn't reply immediately; he first made a brief stop on the side of the road to confirm that the internal confirmation code sent by the academy had been synchronized to the branch system, and then filed Matteo's temporary placement level and medical observation permissions separately. Only after doing this did he continue on his way.
The sky in New York is a bit grayer than to the north.
As the car entered the city, it was nearly evening. A thin mist clung to the overpass, and the wind between the buildings made the billboards rustle softly. Delicatessens, bars, convenience stores, the subway entrance on the street corner, and the roar of garbage trucks were all still there. The sniping, the chase, the sewers, and the Donghe warehouse from last night were just undercurrents in the city's underground, not truly stirring the surface.
Before driving back to the branch, Lynn went to the floor where Carmela was temporarily staying.
When the detective on duty swiped the door to open it for him, Carmela was sitting by the window in the common area, a nursing journal lying on her lap with something she hadn't really read, and a cup of tea that was half-cold next to her. She had clearly been distracted all day, and when she heard the noise at the door, she looked up almost immediately, nearly dropping the book when she saw Lynn.
"You're back?"
"Hmm." (End of Chapter)