Hand Of God

Chapter 65 Public Relations

“Hold on—Brown, I don’t think I ever said I’d join PR. What even *is* PR?”

Adam subtly pulled his hand away. He’d just tried using his power-copying ability on the handshake—and failed. Damn it.

But Kenny seemed utterly immune to social awkwardness. He kept right on talking as if nothing had happened.

“PR is awesome! Why wouldn’t you join? Of course you want in!”

“To graduate from this university,” he continued, “you need 120 contribution credits.”

“Besides the standard university-issued assignments, only six student organizations have the authority to award those credits.”

“And PR? We’re one of them!”

Diana, standing nearby and clearly familiar with Kenny, sighed in exasperation.

“Kenny, recruitment isn’t allowed yet. The official club sign-up period doesn’t start for a few more days.”

“Oh, come on, senior!” Kenny waved a hand dismissively. “They say fate brings kindred spirits together across a thousand miles! If Adam’s interested in joining PR, I’ve got to give him the full pitch!”

Adam: ???

“Wait—*when* did I say I was interested? Bro, I never—”

Before Adam could finish, Kenny suddenly darted forward, leaned in close, and whispered in his ear:

“Listen, of the six special clubs, the other five are all grunt work—exhausting, dangerous fights, barely any credits to show for it.”

“But us? We’re chill. We just show up at public events, spin stories—like calling a Summoning Ceremony a ‘terrorist attack’—and basically coast through it.”

“Half the time, we don’t even prep. Just show up, play online games on-site, and boom—credits in the bank. Sometimes we even pick up side gigs from TV networks… and yeah, people *do* slip us cash.”

Kenny wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and mimed counting cash with his fingers.

Adam: …

“Brown! From this day forward, I am officially a member of PR!”

“That’s the spirit! Hand me your phone!”

Kenny pulled up an app. “This is the internal software for the Big Six special clubs. Any emergency alerts or high-priority university requests pop up here. You take a job, you get credits.”

“Leave the fighting to the muscleheads. We snag the easy gigs—first come, first served!”

Adam nodded eagerly.

The two of them grinned at each other like kindred slackers who’d finally found their tribe.

Outside the door, Diana facepalmed. *Oh no. He ran into Kenny.*

In truth, PR had always been the university’s unofficial “backdoor” department—designed for students with weaker combat aptitude or non-combat talents, letting them earn credits through administrative or PR-style “desk work.”

As a result, most students looked down on PR, considering it weak, uncool, and frankly… unmanly.

And its head, Kenny Brown? A legendary scoundrel. He’d do *anything* for credits—scheming, cutting corners, and regularly infuriating members of other departments.

Rumors even claimed he’d shake down civilians during field missions, pocketing bribes.

And now? PR had just effortlessly recruited the strongest freshman in university history.

Worse yet, Adam and Kenny were already hitting it off like old friends.

Diana: …

*Creak.*

The door finally opened. A poised, elegant woman stepped inside—it was Vice President Smith. She glanced around the room and smiled warmly.

“You two are here for your superpower re-trial, correct? Come with me.”

“Uh… Ms. Smith,” Kenny piped up, sidling over with an exaggeratedly sheepish grin, “maybe I’ll skip this one? I’m just a D-rated superpower—no need to waste time retesting me.”

Smith gave him a gentle but firm look. “Nope. You’re coming too.”

Kenny: …

On the rooftop—a wide, open space—Smith explained the procedure.

“When testing a new or evolving superpower, we simulate divine presence—what we call ‘Deity’s Aura’—to measure your innate aptitude.”

“We start at F-rated intensity and gradually increase. All you need to do is maintain mental clarity and resist the Aura’s psychological influence. That’s how we determine your true superpower rating.”

“Ready, kids?”

“Wait!” Kenny yelped.

He immediately flopped onto his back, sprawled out on the concrete. “Okay, this position feels way better. Wanna try it, Adam?”

Adam: …

Smith: …

Ignoring Kenny’s theatrics, Smith turned to Adam and double-checked his readiness. When Adam nodded, she pressed a button on her device.

Instantly, the air on the rooftop warped. Reality itself seemed to twist.

Adam felt a faint wave of dizziness, accompanied by a whispering voice in his mind—similar to the sensation when he activated *Hearing of Everything*.

So far, though, it was manageable.

From the ground, Kenny called out, “Has it started yet, Ms. Smith?”

“It already has.”

The moment he heard that, Kenny’s legs kicked violently. His eyes rolled back, his tongue lolled out, and he began convulsing like a salted fish frying in oil—writhing, twitching, and groaning on the rooftop floor.

Adam froze in shock, staring wide-eyed. *Is the pressure really that intense?!*

*Is this guy for real?!*

He glanced at Diana, then at Smith—both wore expressions of complete indifference, as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

*Does this guy have zero dignity?*

Watching Kenny thrash like he was about to flatline, Adam couldn’t help but ask:

“Vice President… shouldn’t we, uh, check on him? He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Smith chuckled and shook her head, raising her voice slightly for effect:

“Don’t worry about him. This trial increases intensity gradually. It’ll take a while.”

Adam fell silent, casting a pitying glance at Kenny. *Hope you make it, bro.*

But as minutes ticked by, something felt… off.

Five minutes passed—Kenny was still convulsing.

Ten minutes—still twitching.

Fifteen minutes—

He’d practically polished the entire rooftop floor with his back… yet not a single bead of sweat glistened on his forehead.

Meanwhile, the whispering in Adam’s mind grew louder, more insistent.

But Kenny?

He’d started convulsing the *instant* the F-rated Deity’s Aura hit—and he hadn’t stopped since.

Now the test had climbed all the way to B-rated intensity…

And Kenny was still convulsing—steadily, rhythmically, with mechanical consistency.

Like a metronome set to “dramatic fainting.”

“What’s the official sign that the test is over?”

Adam finally caught on to Kenny’s odd behavior and turned to Vice President Smith with a question.

This guy Kenny was clearly no pushover. Just the sheer stamina it took to thrash around on the ground for this long—forget everything else—was elite-level.

And now Adam was starting to piece it together.

The moment the Deity’s Aura activated, Adam had instantly heard that low, insistent voice in his mind.

But Kenny? He acted like he hadn’t felt a thing—had to ask Smith to confirm the test had even started—*then* immediately began convulsing like a man possessed.

Honestly, the performance was just a little too theatrical.

Smith glanced between the B-rated Deity’s Aura currently pressing down on the rooftop, the completely unfazed Adam, and Kenny writhing dramatically on the floor—and sighed in mild exasperation.

After a moment, she used a focused energy channel to speak directly into Adam’s ear:

“Traditionally, involuntary convulsions meant you’d lost bodily control—your limit had been reached.”

“But we’ve updated the protocol. Now, the true threshold is *loss of consciousness*—when you fall into a trance-like state, mentally hollowed out, as if your mind’s been hijacked.”

Adam nodded slowly. That explained why neither Diana nor Vice President Smith had shown the slightest concern for Kenny’s “life-or-death” performance.

So… the guy was faking it?

Which meant his actual aptitude was high. Then why pretend?

Adam shot Kenny a suspicious look—and suddenly noticed he’d *stopped* convulsing.

In one fluid motion, Kenny sprang to his feet, standing ramrod straight. His eyes glazed over, vacant and eerily blank.

Coincidentally—or not—he was now facing directly toward Smith.

Smith fell silent for a few seconds, uncertain whether this was real or another act. To be safe, she gently pushed him out of the testing radius with a pulse of energy.

“Alright,” she announced. “You’re outside the field now.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Kenny snapped back to life. His body shuddered once, his eyes cleared instantly—like someone emerging from a post-epiphany clarity.