Mya's eyes widened the moment she opened the results page on her phone. For several seconds she simply stared at the glowing screen in complete disbelief, rereading the numbers again and again to make sure she had not misunderstood them. Her heart pounded loudly in the quiet hotel room while excitement bubbled up inside her chest. She had passed. Not only had she passed, but she had done far better than she ever expected after watching Silver Lucy's video earlier that evening. The soft light of the bedside lamp illuminated her bright blond hair while she pulled the blanket tighter around herself and continued staring at the results with an almost foolish smile on her face.
Dear Candidate, these are your test results:
Reaction Speed: 9/10
Spatial Awareness: 8/10
Core Stability: 9/10
Handling Under High Pressure: 9/10
Attention to Detail: 9/10
Emotional Purity: 7/10
Note: These scores are based on comparison with an eight-year-old child from our family, with the child representing a perfect score of ten. Please do not become arrogant.
Based on these scores, we are pleased to recommend that you become a Full Ranger with a specialty of your choosing.
Mya could barely contain herself after reading the final line. A full ranger. Not a reserve archer. Not a simple support role. A full ranger. Even if she did not yet fully understand what that position involved inside the Crimson Forest Guild, the title alone sounded important. More importantly, it meant the family believed she had genuine talent worth nurturing. The comparison with an eight-year-old child was admittedly a painful blow to her pride, but after hearing that some people were compared to four-year-olds, she honestly considered this a victory. Though one thing still bothered her slightly. Emotional purity. What exactly was that supposed to mean?
She rolled onto her bed and stared at the ceiling while thinking about it. The other categories at least made sense. Reaction speed, awareness, pressure handling—those were understandable traits for archers and scouts. But emotional purity sounded strange, almost mystical. Was it related to mental stability? Empathy? Intentions? She had no idea. In the end, however, Mya simply laughed softly to herself and pushed the thought aside. Whatever it meant, it clearly had not disqualified her. Right now she was simply too happy to care. After everything she had endured to escape her old life in England, she had finally found a path forward with her own hands.
Eventually exhaustion began catching up to her. The emotional high slowly faded into sleepy contentment as she placed her phone beside the bed. Tomorrow she would return to the forest to discuss contracts and orientation. Tomorrow her new life would truly begin. With that comforting thought in mind, Mya closed her eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep with a small smile still lingering on her face.
Meanwhile, several kilometers away, the atmosphere inside the hospital could not have been more different. The room Henning occupied felt cold and sterile despite the soft hum of the machines surrounding his sister's bed. Compared to when he first arrived, far more equipment had been attached to her body. Strange monitors displayed flowing symbols mixed with ordinary medical data, while several tubes carrying pale blue liquid connected to her arms. Henning noticed the changes immediately, yet chose not to ask questions. He had lived in the adult world long enough to understand one important truth: when powerful people suddenly became interested in you, asking too many questions was dangerous.
Still, for the first time in years, he finally allowed himself to feel something he had long buried beneath exhaustion and hatred. Hope.
"It's going to be okay now, Sis," Henning whispered quietly while holding his younger sister's cold hand between both of his own. Tears slowly ran down his face despite his attempts to stop them. "I got accepted into the guild. I… I must have done well too. They compared me to a twelve-year-old child from their family, so maybe… maybe I can finally find doctors good enough to help you."
His voice cracked near the end as years of pent-up emotions finally burst free. Henning had spent so long forcing himself to stay strong that the moment he saw even the smallest light at the end of the tunnel, his entire emotional wall began crumbling apart. He lowered his head beside the hospital bed and cried silently while gripping his sister's hand tighter. What he failed to notice in his emotional state was the faint twitch of one of her fingers. So small that even the nearby machines barely reacted to it. Yet it happened nonetheless.
While candidates around Europe celebrated or mourned their test results, the corporations and governments observing the Crimson Forest Guild had their own realizations. The metrics used in the guild's trial rapidly became a major topic among executives and military planners. For decades, modern recruitment methods had slowly decayed into hollow rituals. After nuclear fusion became widespread and humanity entered an age of relative abundance, the corporate world transformed into a stagnant hierarchy where talent mattered less than social connections. Promotions often depended more on family ties and internal recommendations than actual ability. The second round of interviews in many companies had practically become theater performances where executives selected whichever candidate had the strongest backing inside the company already.
The Crimson Forest Guild's test shattered many assumptions. Instead of focusing on resumes or social status, the trial evaluated instincts, adaptability, awareness, emotional control, and hidden potential. It reminded many older executives of how companies used to recruit talent generations ago before comfort made society complacent. Quietly, multinational corporations began discussing whether they should restructure their own hiring methods. Smaller companies lacked the resources to care, but the massive international factions absolutely did. They needed capable people now more than ever because the next trial was coming, and everyone understood that survival alone would not be enough. Power needed to be accumulated quickly.
The reason was simple. Under the System's rules, every member of a faction automatically contributed half the points they earned during trials directly to their faction treasury. Then, in an even more infuriating twist, the faction itself had to hand half of that amount to the government of the nation it belonged to. Nothing could bypass this law. According to analysts studying the System's behavior, it seemed to intentionally favor governments over private organizations because nations theoretically represented humanity as a whole, while factions primarily served themselves. The System appeared to value structures built around collective human survival more than individual ambition.
Naturally, capitalists around the world were furious. During the previous trial, killing ten goblins had earned a silver coin. Now entire cities of one million people only generated one silver coin per day through the new coin mints. The difference in wealth generation was absurd. To many business leaders, giving away half their profits during future trials felt almost criminal. Yet ironically, this was also one of the biggest reasons people rushed to join factions. Yes, they still lost fifty percent overall, but at least twenty-five percent remained within their faction where it directly benefited them through equipment, protection, and training. Compared to surrendering everything to governments alone, the arrangement felt more acceptable.
The following morning, Henning woke up still sitting beside his sister's hospital bed. Sometime during the night, exhaustion had finally overtaken him after crying himself to sleep. Morning sunlight streamed softly through the curtains while the steady beeping of the medical devices filled the room. For once, the crushing weight inside his chest felt lighter. Slowly standing up, he gently brushed his sister's hair aside before speaking quietly.
"I'll come see you tonight, Sis."
As he opened the door leading into the hallway, he immediately froze. A man stood silently in the shadows near one of the pillars further down the corridor, as though he had been waiting there for quite some time. The figure calmly pushed himself away from the wall the moment Henning noticed him before casually gesturing for him to follow. Instinctively, Henning's body tensed. Something about the man felt dangerous despite his relaxed appearance.
"Good morning," the stranger said casually while walking ahead. "You must be Henning. I'm Dennis. I've been assigned to make sure you actually reach the forest safely today."
Before Henning could even respond properly, Dennis shoved a small paper bag into his hands. Warmth immediately spread through the thin wrapping alongside the sweet smell of currant buns covered in butter. Henning blinked in surprise before hunger rapidly overtook caution. He had spent nearly all his remaining money paying for his sister's treatment and had resorted to scavenging cheap food from convenience stores and alley markets over the past few days.
"Thank you," Henning muttered quietly between bites. "But… why are you needed exactly? I take it this is special treatment?"
Dennis glanced sideways at him while continuing down the hallway. A faint smirk appeared on his face.
"Oh, it definitely is."