Nathaniel Clark saw this and walked toward the door. The two soldiers glanced at Nathaniel Clark but did not stop him.

With their sharp eyes, they could tell Nathaniel Clark was not yet seventeen. As for whether he was strong enough, that would only be determined after the academy’s assessment.

Stepping through the academy gates, he was greeted by a martial arts training ground.

The training ground took up most of the front courtyard, extremely spacious, with neatly laid bluish-gray stone slabs on the ground. On both sides were weapon racks, each weapon gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

Solemn and imposing.

At this moment, there were already dozens of youths in the arena, but most of them wore expressions of excitement mixed with nervousness, each standing quietly with little conversation.

Before a life-changing exam, no one was in the mood to chat.

On one side of the training ground, some youths were lined up in front of a table. Behind the table sat two middle-aged men—one responsible for asking questions, the other for recording.

Nathaniel Clark also lined up at the end of the queue to wait for registration, but in his mind, he was thinking about where to find Instructor Foster.

Should he ask someone from the academy?

Would that be too obvious?

While Nathaniel Clark was pondering, the candidates ahead of him finished registering.

“Name and surname, where is your home?”

“Nathaniel Clark, my home is in the alley of Fourth Lane, south of the city.”

Nathaniel Clark answered quickly. The man asking questions asked absentmindedly, “Any elders or relatives at home who are martial artists?”

“My father, Philip Clark, was a martial artist when he was alive, and used to be a constable, but he passed away five years ago.”

The man asked no further questions, and the man on the right, responsible for recording, finished writing Nathaniel Clark’s name and was about to put down his brush.

Nathaniel Clark glanced at the row of names on the paper and quickly added, “But my late father was also friends with Captain Harris. Captain Harris was very happy to hear I was joining the academy and told me to look for Instructor Foster after I enrolled.”

At this point, Nathaniel Clark could no longer worry about whether being so direct would cause trouble, because he had noticed something fishy about the registration.

On that sheet were the names of all the candidates for this assessment, but Nathaniel Clark noticed that some names had a dot after them, while others did not.

The dot was tiny, like a period. Other candidates might not notice anything, but in his previous life, Nathaniel Clark had been the CEO of a listed company and had dealt with many officials, hearing plenty of their anecdotes.

One such anecdote was about how officials gave instructions on documents.

When giving instructions, officials often hid subtle signals that only their subordinates could understand.

One such signal was adding a period after the written instruction.

If an official wrote, “Approved, please expedite,” or “Settle the final payment as soon as possible,” it looked like a prompt to act quickly. But if there was no period, subordinates knew the official wasn’t really concerned, so they would continue to delay.

Of course, the main reason officials used such signals was to deal with people who came seeking favors through connections.

This way, the person seeking help would be pleased by the words, while the subordinates would understand the leader’s true intentions and wouldn’t actually break the rules.

There was absolutely something fishy about this registration sheet.

Sure enough, after hearing Nathaniel Clark’s words, the man with the brush raised it again.

The man on the left asked, “Which Captain Harris?”

“Edwin Harris, Uncle Harris.”

The two men exchanged a glance, something unspoken in their eyes. The next moment, the man recording placed a small dot after Nathaniel Clark’s name.

Although this dot wasn’t as big as the ones after some other names, it was still better than having none.

He now understood: those with big dots after their names must have strong connections and needed special attention, while people like him would get some consideration.

“No matter what background you have, the martial apprentice test is for the court to select future talent. No one can bend the rules. If you can’t pass the test, even knowing Head Instructor is useless. Go over there and line up for group testing.”

The man on the left suddenly barked sternly, his face full of righteous authority. Nathaniel Clark turned pale and quickly apologized, though in his heart he was thinking, If I hadn’t seen that dot after my name, I might have actually believed you.

The instructor put on this act mainly because there were still people in line behind him, and the previous conversation had been overheard by the other candidates. It was to show the academy’s strict and impartial fairness.

Nathaniel Clark walked toward the training ground with a look of fear, and the candidates in line shot him angry and disdainful looks.

They had all heard the instructor’s loud reprimand just now, and in their minds, Nathaniel Clark was already the type trying to pull strings for an unfair advantage.

Fortunately, the instructor seemed very fair, which gave them even more confidence.

Seeing the looks in these youths’ eyes, Nathaniel Clark could only feel helpless. What a bunch of naive kids.

……

……

Half an hour later, the academy gates closed and all candidates had finished registering.

The two instructors also put away the list and walked into the academy, conversing in low voices as they went.

“This year, a few candidates have pretty good family backgrounds.”

“In terms of background, Chief Harris’s is the strongest. But as for that one called Nathaniel Clark, I doubt he has much of a connection with Chief Harris.”