Chapter 470 "Coincidence?" "Ordinary"

"For the Emperor!! Boots!"?

Seeing this weird user name, Sirak Oren couldn't help but frown slightly.

There was a trace of doubt in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth twitched, as if he was a little confused by the weirdness of the name.

However, he took a deep breath and put aside his confusion, thinking that in the online world, such strange user names are not uncommon. Everyone just communicates with each other through anonymous platforms, so why bother with the absurdity of the name?

Moreover, his username is "Fresh Fruit 1155".

He hesitated for a moment, then clicked the "Agree" button and accepted the stranger's friend request.

After all, just after posting a request for help on the forum, the user named "For...Emperor!! Boots!" seemed to have become interested in his confusion and initiated a conversation.

Then, the other party's dialog box popped up on the screen, with a relaxed and slightly casual tone:

"Hey, buddy, I saw you posted a request for help on the forum, was it rejected by the Legion?"

Chirac felt relieved when he saw this news, and the tension in his heart was slightly relieved.

Although he has just experienced a major setback in his life, in this virtual world, he can relieve himself of many of the burdens and pressures in reality.

Moreover, this anonymous communication mode also allows him to no longer worry about "embarrassing" or "losing face" emotions.

No one knew his true identity and everything behind him, which made him feel more relaxed.

Seeing the inquiry from the other party, Chirac thought for a while, and then decided to express his confusion directly.

So, he quickly started typing and editing the answer he wanted to send.

Chirac's fingers jumped quickly on the hard light keyboard with a physical touch. The words quickly formed a paragraph, and his emotions became more and more exciting with each line of words.

"Yes, the pharmacist of the legion said that my constitution is special and cannot withstand subsequent transformation." When he edited this sentence, he felt a little angry:

"I can't accept this, why? I am obviously stronger and faster than my peers, why can't I become an Astartes? Shouldn't it be these qualities that can help me become a greater warrior?!"

Chirac paused, staring at the lines of words on the screen, feeling that his heart seemed to be forced by invisible pressure to the point where he could hardly breathe.

These questions have been swirling in his mind for a long time. Faced with the sudden blow, he did not get any practical answers, only the cold test results and the unchangeable reality.

Thinking of this, Chirac felt agitated.

He took a deep breath, pressed the Enter key, and sent the message.

Every tap on the keyboard seemed to vent his inner anger and helplessness, and the moment he clicked "send", he felt a strange sense of relief.

At this moment, although he could not change the facts before him, he could at least talk to others about his confusion and pain in this virtual world.

"Each legion's recruitment methods are different, and some are even very different."

The other party's reply quickly appeared on the screen, with a rational and calm tone. It seemed that he was completely unaware of the emotional fluctuations and catharsis implied in Chirac's previous text.

His answer not only cuts right to the point, but also appears to be quite detailed and well-informed:

"I heard that for legions like the Space Wolves, in addition to the initial physical fitness screening and the testing and verification of fresh blood and tissue samples by pharmacists, their recruits must also pass a special test——

Fight with beasts.

Whether it is weapons developed using biotechnology or direwolves, sharp-toothed tigers and other beasts from Terra, ordinary people cannot easily deal with them.

Even though Space Wolves instructors give new recruits weapons, there is still a high casualty rate.

Of course, the families that can be favored by the Space Wolves are not ordinary. They are more or less "nervous", hehe.

The screening conditions of the War Hound Legion are slightly better. Although their recruits do not need to fight wild beasts, I heard that their pharmacists will conduct strict psychological evaluations on the recruits, and the specific evaluation standards and requirements are unknown to the outside world. .

Generally speaking, the recruitment conditions of the Imperial Legion are far higher than those of ordinary armed units.

Their standards are extremely strict. Once a pharmacist of a certain legion determines that he is not qualified for transformation, it is almost impossible to be accepted by other legions.

This is why joining any Legion of Astartes is considered a supreme honor.

By the way, man, which legion were you rejected from? "

The text on the screen scrolled slowly, with a sense of rational analysis, as if the other party was stating the facts instead of trying to comfort Chirac.

However, it was this serious and detailed attitude that unexpectedly made Chirac slowly calm down.

Although he was still frustrated by the rejection, the response made him feel genuine concern rather than perfunctory comfort.

Chirac looked at the screen, and after thinking for a moment, he felt that he should also collect himself and continue the conversation.

Once again, he put his hands on the hardlight keyboard and quickly edited his answer:

"I was rejected by the Legion of the Sons of Man."

After hitting the Enter key, Chirac leaned back in his chair and sighed slightly.

The scene of the Legion base emerged in his mind, the solemnity and splendor of the hall, and the huge emblem hanging on the high wall. It seemed that everything was getting farther and farther away from him.

Chirac's fingers unconsciously rubbed the armrests of the chair, feeling helpless.

"Son of Man"

The reply on the screen did not appear for a long time. The user named "For. The Emperor!! Boots!" seemed to be lost in thought, which made Chirac stare at the chat window intently, and his fingertips subconsciously tapped on the edge of the hard-light keyboard to distract his attention.

The other party's silence did not last long, and soon a new text appeared on the screen:

"The requirements of the Sons of Man Legion are indeed a bit strange, but from another perspective, this is actually in line with their image.

As one of the most exemplary legions of the empire, they hope to absorb the kind of recruits who fully meet a certain "perfect standard".

This standard may not be limited to physical strength or outstanding combat effectiveness, even mind, genes, and even fate are within their consideration.

As for why you were rejected, frankly speaking, I can't judge the specific reason.

After all, for legions like this, their selection criteria and procedures are highly confidential and outsiders have no way of knowing.

You mentioned that you have excellent physical fitness and excellent grades, so maybe it's not a problem of ability, but some more complicated reasons that ordinary people can't understand."

This seemingly rational analysis made Chirac feel a little confused, but he couldn't completely refute it.

He frowned slightly, and when he was about to continue typing on the keyboard, the other party's next reply had already been sent:

"To be honest, I was also rejected by the Sons of Man Legion."

This?

This sentence made Chirac stop his fingers suddenly.

He took a deep breath, hesitated on the keyboard for a while, and then quickly clicked on the other party's personal homepage.

The other party's account information was simple and straightforward, with the address shown as "Fengcaixing" and the age marked as "17".

This information made Chirac instantly realize that the other party had probably experienced the same setbacks as himself.

As for information falsification?

Chirac quickly denied this possibility.

In this era, smart AI, stupid AI and synthetic humans have been fully integrated into all aspects of human society.

Whether it is administrative management, traffic operations, or personal life, AI technology and synthetic humans play an indispensable role.

At the same time, this has also greatly improved network security and identity authentication technology.

Nowadays, all humans must register their accounts through biometric identity information.

In this way, similar information forgery, identity fraud, and even so-called "fraud" have long been eliminated.

In this case, the age and address displayed on the other party's homepage must be true, and there is no possibility of falsification.

Chirac tapped his fingers lightly on the tabletop. After thinking for a while, he felt a little doubtful and curious. He then tentatively tapped the keyboard and edited a message:

"Hey, you should be in the second or third year of high school now, right?"

The latest chapter of this novel is first published on 6 x-on:9 Book # Bar. Please go to 69 Book Bar to read it!

"Third year of high school, I'm about to graduate."

The other party's reply came almost immediately, and the speed surprised Chirac a little.

And then, the other party didn't seem to stop and continued to add:

"I just looked at your address and it's also on the Harvest Star. I'm from New Argo City. I wonder which city you are in? The capital city? Or the original capital of Harvest Star, Odgate?"

New Argo? !

After seeing the other party's reply, Chirac couldn't help but be stunned, and his fingers stopped on the hard-light keyboard.

Because their family is in New Argo City.

Originally, Argo was just an agricultural town developed by the UEG (United Earth Government), unknown on the land of Harvest, with a total population of only a few thousand.

However, since Harvest became the "asset" of Atlas, the town has experienced unprecedented rapid development and eventually became a large city with tens of millions of residents.

Sirak moved here with his parents when he was young and grew up here. He is familiar with most of the streets and alleys, and can even name every main road.

But at this moment, everything seems a little wrong.

Sirak's body trembled involuntarily, and an inexplicable sense of alertness surged in his heart.

He stared at the screen, his eyes became solemn.

Is it really such a coincidence?

Yes, there are indeed thousands of teenagers on Harvest every year who fail to pass the screening of Astartes and become Space Marines for various reasons.

And in the entire 08th Universe (Halo), there are even more young people who cannot become Astartes due to various restrictions, which is almost impossible to count.

However, on the day he was eliminated, he met a "buddy" from the same city on the Internet, and their experiences were almost exactly the same.

This coincidence is really hard to ignore, and Chirac couldn't help but feel a little uneasy.

Maybe it was just a chance encounter, and maybe the other party's story didn't have much to do with him, but this sudden coincidence made him alert.

Could it be that the other party used some stupid AI to accurately target me?

Or was it a "big data" match?

In any case, it was very unusual.

He quickly typed out his response, his tone calm but with a bit of caution:

"I'm in Odgate."

After saying that, he directly exited the forum.

The uneasy feeling in his heart seemed to dissipate after he turned off the hard light screen, and then he took a deep breath and calmed the waves in his heart.

He stood up and walked out of the bedroom and walked to the living room, his eyes fell on his father who was watching the news on the sofa, and his mother who was busy in the kitchen.

His steps gradually became lighter, and a long-lost smile appeared on his face.

"Dad, Mom, I've thought about it." He cleared his throat and tried to make his tone stable and firm:

"Even if I don't become the Son of Man, I can still work hard and attack the auxiliary army of the Son of Man. No matter what, I can always find a path that belongs to me."

"Haha, it's good to communicate, son." The mother said gently, with a trace of concern in her eyes:

"It just so happens that Mom has taken a day off today and plans to make you your favorite Chinese food - elbow rolls, how about it?"

"Yeah!"

These words made Chirac's heart warm, and he couldn't help but smile sincerely.

"That's the right way." The father nodded, his tone was a little relaxed: "If you get depressed when you encounter a little setback, how can you become a qualified soldier?"

Then the Oren family spent an ordinary and warm afternoon together.

Wait until the next morning.

After being woken up by the alarm, Chirac went to the toilet with sleepy eyes as usual.

Then he washed, ate, changed into school uniform, and took the sky rail train alone to the school only three kilometers away from home.

When Chirac appeared at the door of the classroom, as he expected, the originally noisy classroom suddenly became quiet.

Almost everyone's eyes turned to him, and low whispers began to echo in the classroom. Some people showed disbelief, and some had a hint of gloating in their eyes.

Chirac frowned slightly, but ignored these eyes.

He continued to walk into the classroom, his face always keeping a calm expression.

Several classmates who were close to him came to ask him after he sat down, but he just said lightly, "I was not selected."

Anyway, the facts were set, and it was impossible for Xilak to go to the original body and ask the other party to "open a back door" for an ordinary child like him.

There were no major twists and turns in the next few days. At most, there were some sarcasm, but he was determined and naturally would not be affected by those words.

Until Friday afternoon, when he was about to take the rail train home, a senior from another school took the initiative to talk to him:

"Hey, you must be Fresh Fruit 1155."