10 Academic Proficiency Test

The trigger was preparations for enrollment starting in April.

Jin will be assigned to the training academy next week.

For the two months starting in February, his duty will be to train recruits as a combat instructor.

Once that begins, he won’t have the same freedom with his time.

That’s why Jin is diligently preparing for enrollment two months ahead.

"Damn. I forgot about the academic proficiency test."

Within the resource-limited migrant fleet, academic standing determines eligibility for accelerated progression.

Outstanding personnel are pushed forward quickly to secure key positions in fleet operations.

Thus, academic assessment at enrollment is crucial—but Jin has not yet administered it to Mio.

The reason being, Mio had not been officially registered as a citizen, and thus was not considered eligible for legitimate education.

Instead, Mio has been enrolled in a curriculum designed for pre-school children.

Curiosity seemed to be her nature—she made no complaints, not even a single one.

Indeed, that she appeared to be enjoying it was fortunate, from Jin’s perspective.

“Progress… has it all been completed, then?”

The program had apparently finished everything, unnoticed.

That should be acceptable, Jin thought.

“Hey, Mio.”

“What?”

Mio looked up from her drawing on drawing paper, using a stuffed animal as a model.

“Want to try a riddle?”

“A riddle? Sure!”

Mio clenched her fist, gathering determination.

Jin led her to the terminal in the corner of her room and displayed the aptitude test screen.

After explaining the operation, Jin left the room, avoiding any interference.

“Call me when you’re done?”

“Hai.”

Mio began tapping the touchscreen, swift and light.

She seemed already absorbed in the riddle-like academic aptitude test.

“That kid… she’s unusually fond of studying for her age…”

The image of a child was usually one of playing outdoors, but Mio was the opposite.

Quietly reading books at home, playing with stuffed animals.

“She draws well too… wait, what’s this.”

On the drawing paper lay a remarkably lifelike depiction of a stuffed animal.

Jin found himself oddly impressed—how could she draw something so precise with only crayons?

It looked like a photograph.

The test lasted two hours total.

During that time, Jin decided to follow Mio’s example and study.

Specifically, he reviewed the material he would teach as an Instructor.

“Instructor of combat techniques… huh. Even that elder’s finally getting old.”

Coincidentally.

The previous holder of the position had retired due to advanced age.

Jin would be his successor.

When Jin was still in training, he had been called the elder of the training academy.

It was unsurprising, given his advanced age and the fact that he could no longer recall his exact years.

As a combat instructor, his duty would be to participate in training sessions as a simulated opponent for trainees.

Yet, reflecting on it now, he realized how difficult that role truly was.

"Adjusting your movements to match the trainee's level, embedding the optimal response through combat—was that what you did, Elder?"

Jin made a weary expression as he read the manual.

The point was, fighting with full force was pointless.

Equally, holding back so much that the trainee grew complacent was useless.

Combat had to be calibrated—just enough to challenge, just enough to reveal flaws.

Reconsidering, it seemed unlikely he would succeed against an opponent he could easily defeat.

"Instructor... can I even manage this?"

It was, plainly, a mismatch.

Jin wondered what the lieutenant was thinking.

No— I understand his intentions.

The lieutenant said he wouldn’t allow suicide on the battlefield.

Therefore, removing him from the front lines was inevitable.

Then, perhaps, he considered what came next.

Realized, perhaps, that he could do nothing but fight.

So he was given the role of combat instructor— the only position that still allowed him to participate in the war.

Dongxiu Jin, 26 years old.

Became aware, for the first time, of the doubt: perhaps I’m useless outside of combat.

“N-no… that can’t be. It’s not like that, right?”

Said aloud, but the words lacked conviction.

Instead, he tried to list what he could do outside combat— and froze at the first attempt.

“What the hell…”

Looking back, it had only been two weeks since he arrived here.

He’d mostly handled household tasks with Mio— yet…

“Cleaning, sweeping, laundry— Mio’s the one actually helping…?”

Jin had held the upper hand only until the moment he taught her—after that, she improved her household skills with mechanical precision.

Good wife material, one might say—distraction from reality.

"...wife."

Indeed.

Would Jin ever see the day when Mio had grown into such a woman?

Jin was a soldier.

The emptiness left by the loss of command still opened in his chest.

As if pulled into that void, he would surely act recklessly on the battlefield.

Though he was currently removed from combat, he held the certainty that he would return.

Because it was what Jin himself sought.

Thus, decades hence.

He could not imagine whether he would be there when Mio had grown into a proper woman.

"Too eager."

Another possibility existed: Mio might regain her memories and return to a more suitable guardian.

If there was some unavoidable reason for her not being registered.

Jin shook his head, dismissing it as pointless to ponder even now.

Worrying over a future that might never come is the most futile of acts.

Lost in thought, he had fallen asleep on the sofa without noticing.

Nighttime assaults by humanoid ASIDs still occurred.

One moment of carelessness, and drowsiness would take hold.

"Jin, Jin! This riddle's unfair! Asking Mio things she doesn’t know!"

It was Mio’s voice—sharp and irritable—that stirred Jin from his slumber.

She sat beside him, already settling into her usual spot on his left, visibly annoyed.

"Ah, is the riddle game over, Mio?"

"Over. I couldn’t solve a single one."

Whether frustrated by failing the academic test or something else.

She puffed out her cheeks, lips pursed.

Jin tapped her cheek and teased her.

"Right, right. Anyway, that kind of thing’s something you learn at school."

"Ga-kkō?"

"Yeah. A place where lots of kids around Mio’s age gather and study together."

"Oh?"

She said it, but her expression showed she couldn’t quite picture it.

Given her background, Mio had never attended a juvenile school.

The idea of being surrounded by many children her own age was beyond comprehension.

"I don’t really get it."

"Probably not. You’ll be going starting in April. So just look forward to it."

"Uh-huh."

Jin ran a hand over her head, and she smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

That casual gesture.

She really did resemble Rei.

Even though she was a complete stranger, why did she look so much like her?

Jin couldn’t help but search for a causal link.

"Want to watch something on TV?"

"Mmm, I’m drawing."

Placing the penguin plush on the table, she began a new drawing.

Where had she learned that?

"Good—looks great—"

The comment, delivered with the air of a cameraman, made Jin’s lips twitch into a smile.

Since he was already here, he decided to check Mio’s scores. He summoned the academic test results.

A terminal screen materialized in his field of view.

Augmented reality function via nanomachines.

He manipulated the virtual display with a glance and retrieved the data.

"Ah...?"

He froze at the results.

"Naval fleet common language, equivalent to junior school graduation. Society, equivalent to junior school graduation. Science, equivalent to junior school graduation."

So far, it was acceptable.

In fact, she seemed to have fully grasped everything learned in a short time.

The test began at the standard level for her age, with difficulty increasing based on her accuracy rate at each stage.

The thing Mio had mentioned—being asked about something she didn’t know.

That must be it—she had advanced to the seven-year-old level after demonstrating the academic proficiency of a sixth-year elementary student.

The issue was the final math section.

"Mathematics, equivalent to high school graduation...?"

Jin questioned Mio’s answers, wondering if there had been a mistake.

Thirty minutes per subject. Typically, solving twenty problems would be considered excellent.

Yet Mio’s math responses were staggering.

Approximately two hundred and fifty problems. Each took only about seven seconds.

And the later questions.

Those were undeniably advanced mathematics.

To be honest, Jin wasn’t confident he could solve them himself.

All of them answered correctly.

In terms of mathematics, the truth was not that the problems had become unsolvable—but that time had run out, and she had stopped there.

He looked at Mio, drawing contentedly.

Her posture was unmistakably that of a six-year-old child.

She did not seem capable of solving high school graduation-level mathematics—eighteen-year-old proficiency—right now.

“Mio, you’re….”

The question of what she was dissolved within her mouth.