The announcer's voice, steady and professional, echoed through the training facility and into Arena 3. "Candidate 734 versus Orc Ravager, Difficulty: medium (Weakened)."
The gate opposite Sunny rumbled open. A hulking green figure lumbered out, seven feet tall, thick muscles rippling under its coarse hide. It carried a crudely fashioned stone axe, its small, pig-like eyes fixing on Sunny.
'Just an Orc,' he thought. 'Looks slow.'
The Orc took a step, then another. Suddenly, it stopped.
Its head snapped up. A guttural growl rumbled in its chest, deeper than before. Its eyes, previously dull, flared with a dangerous red light. Veins bulged on its neck and arms, turning a sickly purple. It slammed its stone axe into the sandy floor, the impact shaking the arena.
The axe head shattered, leaving it with a jagged stone shard clutched in its massive fist. It roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated rage, and charged.
In the training facility, candidates gasped. On the screen, the Orc was no longer just an Orc; it was a maelstrom of fury.
"What in the—That's not a standard weakened specimen!" one of the observing Guild leaders muttered from the booth, leaning forward, his bored expression replaced with sharp alarm.
Others murmured in agreement.
Sunny stood his ground, the provided short sword held loosely at his side. The charging Orc was a blur of green and red rage.
'One... two... three...'
The Orc was almost upon him, the jagged stone in its fist raised to pulp him.
'Four... five.'
At the last possible fraction of a second, as the Orc's furious strike began its descent, Sunny moved. He didn't dodge. He didn't block. He simply wasn't there anymore.
A flicker, like a shadow detaching and reattaching itself in the same instant, was all anyone saw.
The Orc's blow met empty air, its momentum carrying it stumbling forward. Before it could recover, Sunny was behind it. His short sword, now dark with blood, was held point down. In his other hand, dripping, he held the Orc's severed head, its eyes still wide with shock and fading rage.
He let the head drop to the sand with a soft thud.
'Seven seconds. How's that, partner?'
A faint, almost inaudible whisper echoed only in his mind. '[Not bad.]'
A cascade of blue windows confirmed the kill and updated his status, but he dismissed them. The reaction of the observers was far more telling.
A collective intake of breath swept through the training facility. They see his stats or the absurd skills
They only saw a candidate, supposedly B-rank potential, effortlessly decapitate a berserk Orc in a handful of seconds.
In the observation booth, Proctor Kane leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, the earlier composure gone. The other Guild leaders stared, speechless. One of them slowly lowered a pair of binoculars he hadn't realized he raised.
How had a candidate dealt with a berserk monster so cleanly, so quickly? It defied their expectations for an unranked individual.
In the training hall, the arrogant candidate who had boasted earlier now looked like he'd seen a ghost. The blue-haired girl, for the first time since Sunny had seen her, stopped chewing her gum.
Her jaw hung slack, her sharp eyes wide with disbelief fixed on the screen showing Sunny standing calmly over the slain monster.
The announcer's voice crackled over the speakers, strained and hesitant. "C-Candidate 734... Trial... complete. Time: Seven… seven seconds." He paused, a choked sound coming through. "Score… T-Ten… Ten Thousand Points."
The main leaderboard, displayed on the facility wall, stuttered, then refreshed.
1- CANDIDATE 734 - SCORE: 10,000 - TIME: 0:07
2- CANDIDATE 103 - SCORE: 1200 - TIME: 1:00
3- CANDIDATE 42 - SCORE: 850 - TIME: 2:03
...
The gap was absurd. Sunny's name and score blazed at the top, utterly dwarfing everyone else, achieved against a monster that had clearly malfunctioned and become far more dangerous.
Silence. Absolute, stunned silence filled the Player Association.
The Radiant Dawn Guild Leader, Elara, a woman with sharp, intelligent eyes and the guild's sunburst insignia prominent on her attire, had just spoken. Her words, "It seems a monster has arrived," still hung in the observation booth, thick with implication.
The other Guild Leaders, moments before a study in detached professionalism, were now a collection of wide eyes and slack jaws.
Their gazes darted between the arena feed – where Sunny was now calmly walking towards the exit, leaving the bisected Orc behind.
A portly man with the emblem of the 'Stoneheart Defenders' adjusted his spectacles, his mouth opening and closing silently for a moment.
"A monster," he finally echoed, his voice hushed. "Ten thousand points… I've never seen such a score. Not even from S-rank potentials in their final Academy trials."
"He's not S-rank potential, Orville, he was assessed as B," a wiry man from the 'Swiftstrike Assassins' corrected, though his own voice was tight with disbelief. "But that… that was no B-rank performance. That was… instantaneous."
"The Orc berserked," Proctor Kane stated, his voice cutting in, though even he couldn't keep the shock entirely from his tone. He stood a little straighter, trying to regain control of the room. "It was an unforeseen anomaly."
"Anomaly or not, the boy dealt with it," Gregor, the burly leader of the 'Bloodhowl Guild', boomed, his eyes gleaming with predatory interest. He slapped a meaty hand on the console before him. "My guild needs berserkers who can think. This boy… he's got the killer instinct. Bloodhowl makes a preliminary claim!"
"Don't be a fool, Gregor," snapped the slender, silver-haired woman from the 'Silver Serpents', her voice like ice. "That wasn't mindless rage. That was speed. Precision. He belongs with those who value subtlety. The Silver Serpents will offer him a place."
"Subtlety?" Gregor laughed, a harsh sound. "He took its head clean off! That's not subtle, that's dominant! He needs a guild that appreciates raw power!"
"The 'Iron Legion' could certainly use someone with that kind of decisive action on the front lines—" another leader began.
"He's too quick for your plodding shield walls, Max!"
"He's mine! 'Shadow Syndicate' offers double the standard signing bonus!"
The booth erupted into a cacophony of competing claims and raised voices. Each leader saw in Sunny the solution to their guild's needs, a rare talent to be snatched up before anyone else.
"Quiet!" Elara's voice, though not raised, possessed a chilling authority that cut through the noise. The bickering Guild Leaders fell silent, turning to her. Her gaze was fixed on the arena feed, where officials were now cautiously approaching Sunny.
"My Radiant Dawn Guild," she stated, her tone measured, "has, for its entire existence, maintained a strict female-only recruitment policy. It is the bedrock of our foundation."
A few leaders nodded, some looking smug, thinking her guild was out of the running.
She continued, a faint, almost dangerous smile playing on her lips. "However… for a manifestation of talent this… singular… exceptions must be considered." Her eyes met Gregor's, then swept across the other stunned faces. "Radiant Dawn will be making a formal offer to Candidate 734. A most generous one."
A fresh wave of disbelief washed over the booth. Gregor's jaw actually dropped. "You… you can't be serious. Break your own sacred charter? For a boy?"
"A monster," she corrected softly. "And monsters, as you well know, rewrite the rules." She leaned back in her chair, a picture of calm amidst the turmoil. "The question is, who can truly harness such… potential?"
Proctor Kane stepped forward, his face grim. 'This is out of control.' "Ladies, gentlemen," he interjected, his voice firm. "The candidate has not yet completed all phases of the examination. Official recruitment protocols will be followed. There will be no poaching, no backroom deals. Is that understood?"
A few leaders grumbled, but most nodded, their eyes still glinting with avarice. The hunt had begun.
Kane turned his gaze back to the screen. Sunny was now being led out of the arena, his expression unreadable.
'He has no idea what he just started,' Kane thought. 'No idea at all.' He felt a headache forming. 'This exam just became a nightmare to manage.'