The next day, Angelia brought Enoxia to the examination site. From the outside, it looked like an utterly ordinary office building.
After completing the tedious procedures, Enoxia entered the training room, ready to begin the test.
“All assessments will take place in the data space. Passing is the baseline, but the better your performance, the higher your evaluation. Hey, Enoxia, don’t just stand there spacing out.”
Angelia waved her hands in front of Enoxia’s face, snapping her out of her daze.
“Frozen before the test even starts… Is this girl even cut out for this?”
Faced with the cold glare of another proctor, Enoxia was inwardly delighted. Testing the Herrscher of Corruption’s strength in a data space meant many of her usual restrictions no longer applied.
“Is this data space on an isolated network? Hmph, what a shame.”
With a faint sigh, Enoxia shook her head and began selecting her weapon. Since she was still in her “Elysia-corrupted” form, a bow was the natural choice.
After tapping a few options like she was playing a game, a violet bow materialized in her hands. As the test began, dozens of mechs—the kind frequently seen in Honkai Impact 3rd—emerged from the ground.
Enoxia activated the Herrscher of Corruption’s authority, modifying all the mechs’ attack and HP values to 1. Then, mimicking Miss Pink Elf’s ultimate move, she lightly flicked her hair, fired an arrow skyward, and watched as a rain of arrows descended, instantly obliterating every mech on the field.
The proctor who had been muttering earlier now stood slack-jawed, as if he could fit a fist in his mouth.
“Lady Angelia… did you pick her up off the street during a mission or something?”
“Is there a problem?”
“N-no, no problem at all!”
The original test was to see how many mechs one could destroy within five minutes. But before the time was up, the data space shut down. To onlookers, it seemed her power had exceeded the system’s limits.
In reality, Enoxia had simply taken control of the system’s permissions and manually terminated it.
Once the test concluded, the previously dismissive proctor eagerly stepped forward and clapped her on the shoulder.
“Miss Enoxia, could you tell us why you chose to join the Special Intelligence Bureau?”
Enoxia shrugged. “The benefits are good.”
“Ah, well, that’s easy! Aside from Lady Cecilia, you’re the only one who’s ever achieved such results. The Guardian is sure to hold you in high esteem! My name is—”
Angelia had no interest in entertaining the suddenly obsequious proctor. Without a word, she took Enoxia’s hand and led her away.
“Just… one test?”
Angelia shot her a sidelong glance. “How many more times did you want to show off? The passing standard for that single test was enough to eliminate 90% of qualified candidates. I knew you were something special at first glance, but I didn’t expect you to be this strong—matching my sister’s level.”
Soon, the two left the examination site and headed for the city government’s office building. Enoxia was curious about this “Guardian”—who exactly were they?
Along the way, Enoxia saw numerous people holding banners and megaphones, loudly voicing their demands—or those of their groups. The closer they got to the government building, the more such people there were.
At the entrance, a crowd of over a hundred had gathered, severely disrupting traffic. A long-bearded man at the front, shouting through a megaphone, spotted Angelia and Enoxia’s car and bellowed:
“Look, everyone—it’s the Special Intelligence Bureau! Did you know? Every SIB agent gets a free house, three meals a day delivered by dedicated staff, and every time they fire their weapons, it costs a fortune! Friends, you all have knives at home—some of you have even handled guns. Weapons are weapons, so how can theirs cost so much more? There must be corruption at play!”
Enoxia stared wide-eyed at his “brilliant” rhetoric. Her first impression of his logic? This guy dropped out of compulsory education and started spouting nonsense.
Without wasting words, she projected her consciousness into him, seizing full control of his body.
The next moment, the man—who had been passionately ranting—suddenly tore off his shirt and began performing a Cossack dance half-naked in front of the crowd, shouting:
“OK, bros, gather ’round! Eyes on me! I have an announcement to make—I’m a [censored]!”
Under a storm of disdainful stares, an ambulance soon arrived, loaded him onto a stretcher, and hauled him back to the psychiatric rehabilitation center.
With their leader gone, the remaining protesters scattered like roaches. Only then did police-like personnel belatedly arrive, arresting a few slow-footed stragglers, all of whom cried out in protest:
“Sir, I wasn’t part of the commotion! They said if we just showed up at the government building, we’d get a free basket of eggs—or laundry detergent if we didn’t want eggs! So I just tagged along…”
Amid the chaos, Angelia and Enoxia entered the government building. A captain-like figure bowed apologetically the entire way.
“Ah, Lady Angelia, my deepest apologies for this unsightly mess. And this lovely lady beside you is…?”
“The Guardian wants to see her.”
Before Enoxia could speak, Angelia impatiently waved him off and pulled her inside.
From Angelia’s explanation, Enoxia learned that Atlantis’s “Guardian” was nothing like Belobog’s “Supreme Guardian.”
In Atlantis, the highest administrative body was the Atlantis Council, composed of representatives from various factions. The Guardian was merely one member and the nominal leader.
Yes—the Atlantis Council had no chairman. The Guardian couldn’t unilaterally appoint or dismiss councilors; they could only convene a removal vote. A councilor would only be ousted if over half voted in favor.
Conversely, councilors could also impeach the Guardian. With a two-thirds majority, the Guardian would be suspended, and the council would then vote on an interim successor from a list of candidates.
As for the Guardian’s privileges? They could nominate the next Guardian, count as two votes in any decision, and—in the event of a tie—their supported outcome would prevail.
Enoxia felt a headache coming on just hearing about it. A Guardian under such a system was doomed to be a mere tool for balancing interests, and Atlantis’s bureaucratic inefficiency was no surprise.
Before long, she met the seemingly dignified Guardian in person.
“Greetings, Miss Enoxia. I am Karl Apocalypse, the 113th Guardian of Atlantis. A pleasure to meet you.”
