Chapter 595
Well Disguised, Ringing the Bronze Bell
Fang Cheng looked up in the direction of the sound.
He could clearly feel a penetrating gaze shooting out from the shadows and landing on him.
It wasn't just a simple gaze, but a tangible scrutiny, as if it could see right through the thoughts hidden deep within one's heart.
The interrogation room was large, but had no windows, making it appear unusually cold and gloomy.
Only a single chandelier overhead cast a dim, yellowish light, barely illuminating more than half of the area.
In the very center of the aperture, there was a solitary metal chair.
Just a few meters away, behind a large interrogation table, sat the person who had spoken earlier.
On the table, besides the ancient bronze bell, there was a laptop, a mechanical timer, a pen, and a rating sheet.
The young staff member who brought Fang Cheng in walked straight to the left side of the desk, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
He then typed a few words in his notebook, seemingly recording something.
He was clearly one of the interviewers.
As for the examiner sitting to his right, most of his body was hidden in the shadows where the light did not reach.
It was as if an energy field was interfering with other people's vision.
Not only was its outline blurry, but even the surrounding air seemed to be slightly distorted and fluctuating.
He was like a silent iceberg, exuding a mysterious aura that kept strangers at bay, and his face was obscured.
He could only vaguely see his hands resting on the table; the skin was dry like tree bark, and the joints were large and strong.
He appears to be a master of external martial arts who has practiced martial arts for many years.
Fang Cheng pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses.
A faint golden glint flashed briefly in the depths of his pupils.
With the aid of extraordinary vision, the darkness was dispelled like a thin mist.
The examiner suddenly became clearer in his eyes.
He has a hooked nose, deep nasolabial folds, and graying temples.
He was clearly very old, but his eyes were as bright and sharp as blades, staring intently at me.
Fang Cheng sensed the imposing aura emanating from the old man.
He immediately averted his gaze and stopped peeking, so as not to arouse unnecessary suspicion from the other party.
He pretended to be nonchalant, walked to the metal chair, and bowed slightly.
"Good morning, examiner. I am candidate number 263, and I am applying for the medical position in the Special Search and Rescue Team."
"Hello, candidate, welcome to today's interview."
The young examiner responded first, speaking in a businesslike tone.
After Fang Cheng took his seat, he began to read out the rules according to procedure:
"This interview will be conducted using a double-blind mechanism. The interviewers will not know your name or identity information, only your interview number, and you will not need to know our identities."
"The entire process will be recorded. Please do not reveal any personal information such as your name, workplace, or alma mater. Be careful with your words, otherwise you will be dealt with as a violation of discipline."
"Are you ready?"
Fang Cheng nodded, indicating that he understood.
This is both to prevent favoritism and corruption, and to protect the examiners, preventing those who are not selected from harboring resentment and seeking revenge later.
"Okay, let's begin the interview now."
After receiving confirmation from Fang Cheng, the young examiner finished speaking and pressed the mechanical timer on the table.
"Click, click."
The ticking of the second hand was amplified infinitely in the room, each tick feeling like a pounding on one's nerves.
At the same time, a commotion came from the corner.
With a soft "beep," a bright red light appeared.
A camera, its red light flashing, is silently recording everything that is happening here.
The elderly examiner, now a shadowy figure, leaned slightly forward.
His sharp gaze swept over Fang Cheng, as if scrutinizing prey that had fallen into a trap.
This extremely aggressive gaze lasted for a full ten seconds, its intensity enough to cause an ordinary person to have a mental breakdown and be at a loss.
Fang Cheng simply sat quietly, his hands resting flat on his knees, his eyes clear and unwavering.
"Good mental fortitude."
The older examiner suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse and deep, carrying the authority of someone accustomed to a high position:
"You applied for a medical position... It seems you are very confident in your medical skills."
"People who study medicine usually pride themselves on being kind-hearted and taking saving lives as their ideal. I wonder if your heart is the same."
Fang Cheng bowed slightly, his tone humble:
"Treating the sick and saving lives is a doctor's duty. I dare not claim to be benevolent; I simply do my best."
"Do your best?"
The old examiner snorted coldly, his tone dismissive.
But instead of dwelling on that topic, she immediately posed another question:
"Young man, stop with the high-sounding platitudes. Tell me, why are you so determined to apply to the Special Search Party?"
His tone wasn't like that of an interviewer, but more like that of an interrogating a criminal with ulterior motives who intended to infiltrate the Special Investigations Unit.
Fang Cheng paused for a moment, then gave an answer he had already prepared:
"For the sake of the future."
He adjusted his glasses and met the examiner's gaze calmly.
"The Special Investigations Unit is a law enforcement agency that symbolizes national power, and enjoys a very high social status and generous salary."
"I believe that with my medical skills, I can obtain better resources and development platforms here than in ordinary hospitals, and at the same time realize my life's value."
This answer was neither a pretentious, empty statement about "serving the people" nor overly mercenary.
Instead, it perfectly showcased the ambition and pragmatism that a young person should possess.
The older examiner tapped the table noncommittally, then posed the second question:
"What if, during an emergency operation, your captain is seriously injured and in urgent need of medical attention, and right next to him lies a criminal who possesses crucial intelligence about a terrorist attack, also in critical condition?"
"The emergency medication you have is only enough to save one person. Who will you save?"
This is a classic moral dilemma, and a common trap in movie plots, used to test human nature.
Rescuing the team leader signifies loyalty and principle, but it could lead to a loss of intelligence and cause a major disaster.
Rescuing criminals means having a broad perspective, but it can also earn you the reputation of being cold-blooded, ruthless, and abandoning your comrades.
Therefore, there is no truly correct answer.
It all depends on the questioner's purpose and what they want to test through this question.
Fang Cheng answered calmly, almost without hesitation:
"I'll save the captain."
"reason?"
The older examiner's brows relaxed, but he asked with a stern expression.
“I am a doctor, not a commander, nor an interrogation expert.”
Fang Cheng's voice was calm and steady, his tone unwavering:
"On the battlefield, my primary responsibility is to ensure the survival of my own combat personnel."
"As for intelligence, that's something the intelligence department has to worry about. Maybe criminals can leave clues before they die, but if my comrade dies, he's really dead."
Upon hearing this, the older examiner's eyes flashed with a barely perceptible hint of admiration.
But it quickly disappeared, and the tone became even more aggressive:
"If your superior ordered you to treat a powerful person who committed murder but was acquitted, and you were to cure him so that he could escape legal punishment and also get rid of the torment of illness, what would you do?"
Fang Cheng frowned slightly, as if he was having a fierce internal struggle.
After a moment, he sighed:
"I will carry out the order and do my best to cure him."
Before the examiner could ask further questions, he continued:
"The Special Search Team is a disciplined force, and obeying orders is our duty. As a subordinate, I have no right to question the decisions of my superiors."
"But I will take remedial measures after the treatment is completed..."
At this point, Fang Cheng paused, trying to provide a reasonable explanation:
"For example, submit your resignation immediately and file a formal complaint with the supervisory department."
This answer demonstrates both personal principles and an understanding of military orders and discipline. "Interesting."
The older examiner leaned back, his expression seemingly relaxed a little.
But then he threw out an even more tricky question than before.
"Assuming..."
He stared into Fang Cheng's eyes, his tone becoming unfathomable:
"What if one day you discover that your father is a notorious serial killer or a member of a reactionary organization?"
"Would you feel guilty for having his blood? How should you deal with this stain from your family of origin?"
The moment the question was posed, the air seemed to freeze.
Fang Cheng's heart stirred slightly.
This is not just a hypothesis, but more like a pointed probe.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, various possibilities flashing through his mind.
He also thought of his father, who had been dead for many years according to the records, and the layers of mystery surrounding the Guangwu Gate shooting incident.
Fang Cheng took a deep breath, a perfectly measured solemnity and resolve appearing on his face:
"Bloodline is the result of fate, but fate is not unchangeable. How to walk the path of life is more of a choice in one's own hands."
“I will not feel ashamed of my relatives’ crimes because I did not participate in the evil.”
"If that day ever comes, out of kinship and trust, I will find him first and verify it in person."
"As long as the evidence is conclusive, I will arrest him myself and bring him to court."
"Because only by cutting off the continuation of this evil can we achieve the greatest redemption for him, and for myself."
After he finished speaking, the room fell into a brief silence.
The older examiner's face, hidden in the shadows, finally revealed a hint of satisfaction.
He then picked up his pen and made a heavy mark on the evaluation sheet.
His name is Chen Bingzhong. He is the former deputy director of the intelligence department of the special search team and a special-class investigator. He and Shi Chengyi are old comrades-in-arms for decades.
Two days ago, Shi Chengyi made a special trip to his door to say hello.
They say there's a promising candidate in this spring recruitment exam, a young man with amazing martial arts talent.
Tell him to keep an eye on things if he encounters them, within the limits of the rules.
Chen Bingzhong detests things like using back channels and connections.
He originally planned that if this kid was just a pretty face, even if Shi Chengyi pleaded for him, he would still reject him.
Therefore, he deliberately made the questions more difficult, trying to probe the dark side of this young man's heart.
Unexpectedly, this young man named Fang Cheng performed flawlessly.
With a calm mindset and meticulous logic, he possesses both the vigor of youth and a wisdom and maturity far beyond his years.
Let alone today's young people, even I myself when I was young probably didn't have this composure to remain calm in the face of both honor and disgrace.
As long as the kid doesn't have obvious antisocial personality disorder, he'll accept the "excellent" rating wholeheartedly.
"The Q&A session is over."
Chen Bingzhong closed the rating sheet, casually pushed it aside, and his previously cold tone softened considerably:
"Next is the second part, the subconscious stress test, also known within the Special Search Team as the illusionary trial, the Abyss Echo."
The young examiner standing next to him stood up at the right moment, turned around and opened the metal cabinet behind him.
He took out a metal helmet covered with sensor patches and black cables, walked up to Fang Cheng, and told him to put it on.
Chen Bingzhong raised his right hand, pointed to the ancient bronze bell on the table, and explained:
"I'll ring this bronze bell in a bit. What you need to do now is put on the helmet and try to stay alert. The longer you can stay awake, the higher your score will be."
Fang Cheng carefully examined the ancient bell, sensing the spiritual fluctuations emanating from it.
Then he nodded slightly and lowered his head obediently.
"clear."
The young examiner held the helmet with both hands, placed it neatly on Fang Cheng's head, and pressed the metal buckle.
The cool, metallic sensation traveled down my scalp.
"Ready?"
Chen Bingzhong picked up a hammer from the table, raised his wrist slightly, and suspended it on one side of the bell.
Before Fang Cheng could respond, the hammer struck down suddenly.
"when--"
A not-so-loud chime echoed through the closed room.
But this sound completely defies the laws of acoustics.
It felt as if it didn't enter through the ears, but rather pierced directly through the skull, exploding in the brain.
Fang Cheng felt his vision suddenly darken, and the previously clear walls and lights around him began to distort and stretch violently.
At the edge of the line of sight, the human face patterns on the surface of the bronze bell came to life.
The face suddenly opened its abyss-like maw, letting out a silent roar, and transformed into a swirling black vortex.
Immediately afterwards, a tremendous pulling force surged out, attempting to forcibly detach his consciousness.
This level of mental interference might produce a hallucinogenic effect on ordinary people instantly.
However, with Fang Cheng's high mental attribute of 70 points, it was impossible to shake his mind.
If he wanted, he could sit upright in the chair, as still as a rock.
But he did not put up a strong resistance.
After all, I'm here for an interview and assessment, not to cause trouble or disrupt the event.
As a "martial arts genius," it would be undeserving of the title if one's mental resistance were too weak.
However, if they act too aggressively, they are easily mistaken for dangerous psychopaths.
The most crucial aspect is mastering the appropriate level of disguise.
Fang Cheng glanced at the camera next to him, a slight thought crossing his mind.
His brows furrowed and his eyelids trembled slightly.
His fingers were bent, gripping the edge of the metal chair tightly, and the veins on the back of his hands were bulging.
It perfectly portrays a martial artist struggling on the edge of reality and illusion.
This back-and-forth struggle lasted for about a few breaths.
He only realized what was happening when he caught a glimpse of the young examiner looking at the instrument screen with an expression of barely suppressed surprise on his face.
Fang Cheng then completely relaxed his tense mental defenses.
Then, following that pulling force, I let my consciousness fall downwards, completely merging into the deep darkness.
"call……"
Fang Cheng's head slowly drooped, and his previously tense body gradually relaxed, leaning back against the chair back.
His breathing quickly became long and rhythmic, the rise and fall of his chest became steady, and his heart rate also decreased.
It is clear that they have entered a very deep sleep state.
"Commander Chen, this candidate is a really good prospect."
The young examiner looked down at the smoothly progressing waveform on the tablet and couldn't help but exclaim in admiration:
“Most special operations test takers can only last two or three seconds before collapsing when the bell rings.”
"He was able to hold on for ten seconds before falling asleep, and his vital signs returned to a very stable state after he fell asleep."
"This mental fortitude is absolutely top-notch among the hundreds of people here today!"
Chen Bingzhong's gaze fell on the young man who, even in his unconscious state, still maintained an upright posture, and a rare smile appeared on his face.
"Old Shi really wasn't wrong about me this time..."
He silently recited it to himself, then picked up his pen and made a clean, decisive mark on the grade sheet:
"Make a note of this candidate's results: Stress resistance test, dream stage, Grade A."
After speaking, Chen Bingzhong put down his pen and turned his gaze back to the ancient bronze bell.
"Next, we'll see how much of his true nature he reveals in the depths of the illusion..." (End of Chapter)