The air in the waiting room was thick with tension.
Teams stood in loose clusters, some whispering in hushed tones, others silent, all waiting for the verdict that would shape their futures.
Then, the door swung open with a sharp creak.
The idol instructor strode in with a sleek black briefcase clutched in her hands.
"Results are in," she announced, her voice cutting through the silence, "Turn your attention to the screen."
The monitor flickered to life, displaying the final rankings.
The ranking was listed in the following order: Team, Audience Ranking, Verified Hero Ranking, Elder Ranking, and Final Score.
Team 6 |95%| 90% |4/5| 87
Team 3 |67%| 49%| 3/5| 45
Team 1 |79%| 85%| 1/5| 34
Team 9 |50%| 75%| 2/5| 26
A beat of silence hung heavy. Then—
"Congratulations," the instructor said, popping open the briefcase.
Inside, gleaming hero licenses lay nestled in velvet, each bearing a photo, stats, and the Association's golden seal, "As of this moment, you are all official heroes."
No cheers erupted. No embraces followed. The weight of the achievement settled as they listen carefully.
"Now," she continued, snapping the case shut, "the final question: Do you continue to the combat exam, or walk away with your licenses intact? Remember, regardless of whether you win the combat exam or not, you'll still keep your card."
The room held its breath, the air thick with deliberation.
Then Team 1 stepped forward, their leader Jason's voice steady, "We're going to drop out. We all agree that passing was our main priority. And there will be heavy risk if villains watch how we fight and use it against us."
The instructor opened the briefcase again, allowing them to take their cards before they walked out. Following suit, Violet stepped forward, "I'm leaving too." She grabbed her card and stormed off.
Both Joseph and Gwin exchanged confused glances, silently wondering to themselves why she was leaving.
When no one else moved from their spots, the instructor's smile turned sharp, "Excellent. In three days, the 8-bracket tournament begins. It will be a last-man-standing battle. First, let me inform you about the special reward for this exam. Our payment structure is $50,000 every 15th of each month. Whatever percentage score you receive in this round will be added to your payment after the percentage is calculated. Every year, we give new values depending on your hero ranking. Top tens earn more than $1 billion a month. So I hope you spend your money wisely."
She tucked the briefcase under her arm, "Spend your time wisely—train, rest, and prepare. Dismissed."
Immediately, Gwin sprinted after Violet. She managed to catch up with her leaning against the hallway wall, away from the waiting room's prying eyes, "Violet, can we—" Before she could step forward, Violet released a suspicious gas, forcing a violent cough from Gwin and blood to drip from her nose.
Slowly walking toward Gwin, Violet removed her scarf, her voice cold, "I'm surprised you have the guts to come to me alone." Her eyes narrowed, "So, Stalker, what do you want?"
Gwin was violently coughing, collapsing to her knees, her voice strained, "I'm sorry, that wasn't me back then. I wish I could—"
Violet swiftly kicked her across the face, the impact knocking her down, "You're lucky that Glamour was told to leave." She moved and mounted Gwin's stomach, her hands swift to choke her, "I wish I could make this reality in the combat exam. After years of waiting and waiting, I could give you the same scars you left me." Her grip tightened, unrelenting.
Gwin tried to fight back, but her body was extremely weakened by the gas, her resistance feeble, "I'm… sorry—"
Suddenly, a blazing fist punched Violet away from Gwin with enough force to send her flying. When Violet staggered to her feet, she saw Arthur holding Gwin in his arms, "We will meet again, Gwin." She released a massive smoke gas, a thick cloud enveloping her before she disappeared into the haze.
---
Violet exited the Association building, glancing at her card before slipping it into her pocket, her steps measured.
She noticed Glamourbabe on her phone, scrolling through posts and news articles on Connect, "That damn child, after he opened his big mouth, I became a meme and a mockery all over. I'm the second trending discussion of the day."
Violet crossed her arms, her tone dry, "What did you expect? I bet you made those guys more popular instead of disliked."
Glamourbabe tossed her phone to the ground and stepped on it, grinding it under her heel, "I will make his life—"
Violet simply ignored her outburst and walked toward the car, "Look, Stacy, as much as I want to listen to your complaints, we need to go meet up with those hunters—" Suddenly, Violet's phone rang in her pocket.
When she checked the call ID, it displayed three question marks.
"Speak of the devil," she muttered, answering in Japanese, "Agent Violet reporting."
"Hello, Violet, we trust you are doing well. We tried to contact Glamour, but I believe she had another outburst," replied the mysterious Japanese man, his voice smooth.
"Yes, she broke her phone right now, actually. Is this about the exams?" she replied in a much more professional tone.
"Yes, my friend. Why didn't Glamour prevent Arthur from passing? You're angering very powerful people," he replied.
"Sir, she would lose her job if she even attempted to sabotage the event. The chance she had was in her event, which backfired. She's been kicked out from the rest of the exams, so we couldn't influence further," she replied.
The man was silent for a moment before saying, "Then this will do. With him in the finals, it will give us the opportunity to learn how he fights and how to exploit his weaknesses. Remember, our client is paying enough money for generations. And if you do your part right, I will heal that face of yours. Understand."
"Yes, sir, my heart and soul belong to the Lady in Black," she replied, the phone call ending with a click.
Glamourbabe asked, "Explain in the car. I need a massage right now."