Chapter 16: Defense

The next day at noon.

Valentine sat alone in the cafeteria, her head bowed as she stared at her phone, her thumbs flying swiftly over the keys.

Valentine: Friend, you finally logged on.

Chiba: ?

Valentine: Did you see the email I forwarded to you?

Chiba: Jane’s list of requests? Yeah, I saw it. You want me to reimburse those? The base can’t be that broke, can it?

Valentine: …

Chiba: Sis, spit it out quickly—I’m about to board the plane.

Valentine: Why did Jane want all those things on her very first day at the base… do you have any idea?

Chiba: None.

Chiba: If you want to know, you should ask her yourself.

Valentine: Of course I will talk to her. We have our first interview this afternoon… but why do you seem so completely unfazed? She just went through such a terrible ordeal. This info could be really important.

Chiba: Hahaha.

Valentine: ?

Chiba: No doubt she just went through something awful, but don’t forget she grew up in Short鸣 Alley before entering the monastery. Kids from there have seen plenty of storms. She asked you for some furniture and renovations on her first day here and you’re already all nervous… Stay calm, Valentine. The people I pick don’t usually have major problems.

Valentine: …So why exactly did you choose Jane? I’ve already heard several people discussing this.

Chiba: Ha, I just thought she had a rather unique aura.

Aura?

Valentine looked up slightly, then suddenly startled as Hesta approached, carrying a tray, standing directly opposite her.

“Sorry, did I startle you?” Hesta asked softly.

“Ah, no…” Valentine snapped back to attention.

Hesta wore the uniform she had received yesterday: a white shirt topped with a deep blue sweater, paired with a gray pleated skirt. The left chest of the uniform bore a golden embroidered badge—the insignia of the Reserve Training Base—a sword piercing through a pincer, with the letters AHgAs beneath it.

“May I sit here?” Hesta asked.

“Of course.” Valentine slid her tray slightly closer to herself. She glanced at her phone screen and saw Chiba’s avatar grayed out after leaving a message, “Boarded, bye.”

“Did you get used to living here yesterday?” Valentine put her phone away.

“Yes. I talked with Liz for a long time and met Turan and Li Ge, though we didn’t have deep conversations,” Hesta replied calmly. “This morning I attended two hours of course selection training but still struggled to understand much. After our talk this afternoon, I plan to check the course selection system in the computer room.”

“That’s good.” Valentine smiled. “Looks like you’re already finding your rhythm here.”

“Yeah, thanks to Liz. She told me a lot about daily life here.”

They ate quietly, and after finishing their meal, Hesta followed Valentine to her interview room.

On the way, Valentine pondered Chiba’s remark about Jane’s “unique aura” and instinctively moved a bit closer to Hesta.

She could detect hints of the mercury needle children’s scent on Hesta, but that was common among newcomers.

So what exactly did Chiba mean by “unique”…?

“Miss Valentine?” Hesta’s voice interrupted her thoughts again. Valentine realized they had arrived at the interview room door.

“Oh, sorry…” Valentine immediately began taking out her access card. “I always get lost in thought and forget what’s right in front of me. Please don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Hesta said, looking at Valentine. “On the contrary, I find our time together quite relaxing.”

Valentine burst out laughing. “Thank you…”

The interview room was empty. Along one wall stood two gray metal cabinets filled with thick folders. By the window were two lemon-yellow single sofas angled toward each other. Near the door was a sandalwood desk. Valentine approached, powered on the computer, and invited Hesta to begin filling out the psychological questionnaire.

Hesta quickly learned the operation after a brief lesson from Valentine.

Currently, the base used the newly revised and normed Symptom Self-Assessment Scale-270 from last year. Following a seven-point Likert scale, it contained 270 items assessing the subject’s current psychological state across 17 mutually exclusive dimensions such as anxiety, depression, and antisocial tendencies. Its reliability and validity were high.

What made this revised scale superior to the old version was the addition of two sections: the Vanity Scale and the Defense Scale—30 questions in total designed specifically to detect deception.

Ordinarily, normal individuals scored very low on these 30 questions. However, if someone deliberately concealed their true thoughts for reasons such as “self-enhancement” or “passive defense” by choosing more flattering or socially desirable answers, their scores on these items would become unusually high.

This meant their entire questionnaire was unreliable.

These 30 deception detection questions were scattered among the original 240 questions, greatly aiding psychological workers like Valentine. She could easily identify which results were untrustworthy and gain some insight into the subject’s tendency to lie.

About half an hour later, Hesta submitted the questionnaire.

Valentine had already adjusted the nearby camera and began their interview.

Today’s conversation remained focused solely on Hesta’s past and her first few days at the base.

Hesta often glanced toward the camera nearby. Like all newcomers, she was uncomfortable speaking under surveillance.

“Will anyone review these videos or recordings?” she asked softly.

“Yes, but only a very few have permission,” Valentine replied. “Including me, there are only four people—no, five—among them Chiba. Most of the time, nobody accesses them. The footage is archived solely for record-keeping. If you encounter problems in the future, we’ll try to find the causes through these materials.”

Hesta’s gaze fixed on the red light of the camera with a complex expression. “I understand.”

Valentine wanted to learn many things about Hesta—the girl’s early memories, birthplace and childhood, her education in Short鸣 Alley and St. Anne’s Monastery, daily entertainment, and significant life turning points...

But Valentine also knew these questions would go unanswered for now—it was far too soon to explore such deep topics.

There was no hurry; interviews like today’s would continue monthly, adjusted as needed until they reached adulthood.

At 3:50 p.m., Hesta rose from her seat and bid Valentine farewell. Only after closing the interview room door behind her did Valentine return to the computer to review Hesta’s questionnaire results.

As expected, the moment she dragged the page to the results section, a red “Invalid Measurement” warning appeared on the screen, accompanied by a black line of explanatory text—

“The subject’s ‘Defense Scale’ score is excessively high; the questionnaire results are unreliable.”