Michael offered her a polite nod. "Thank you."
The woman's smile warmed just a fraction. "Good luck in the next stage, Mr. Norman. I wish you success in your exam."
"I appreciate it," Michael replied.
With that, he rose from the chair and stepped out of the booth.
The hallway beyond was quieter than he expected, though the murmur of voices from other booths still reached his ears. His pace was unhurried, yet his mind was already sifting through what the woman had told him.
An international field. Public broadcast. A virtual space.
Now, there were two things Michael was wondering about.
For one—how the hell was the Federation going to host a joint exam for millions of participants?
Of course, the "millions" applied to the cultivators. Awakeners were far rarer, but even then, the total number was still huge. In a given year, it was already considered fortunate if a school produced even one Awakener. Producing more than three was a rarity worth talking about.
