The Grand Coliseum of Sector 1 was a monument to humanity's vanity.
Built from white marble imported from a D-Rank Quarry Dungeon, it seated fifty thousand spectators. Today, the stands were packed. The Hunter Exam wasn't just a recruitment drive; it was a sport. The rich came to bet on the rookies, and the poor came to watch someone die.
Elian stood in the intake line, surrounded by the smell of expensive cologne and fear.
He had cleaned up. He wore a simple set of leather armor he'd bought from a mid-tier shop functional, unbranded, grey. He looked like a thousand other hopefuls: a nobody trying to become a somebody.
"Move it, trash," a voice sneered from behind him.
Elian didn't turn. He knew the type.
A young man pushed past him. He was wearing shimmering silver plate armor engraved with the crest of the Griffin Guild. He didn't just walk; he strutted, flanked by two attendants carrying his weapons.
[Subject: Valerius Thorne][Class: Paladin][Level: 12][Affiliation: Noble House Thorne]
Elian's [Blueprint Sight] analyzed the boy's armor. Enchanted Silver. Durability: High. Weakness: The joints at the armpit are unplated to allow mobility.
"Noble House brats," Elian thought. "Born with a spoon in their mouth and a sword in their hand."
Ignore him, Kaelen advised. Valerius dies in Year 3. He tries to tank a Behemoth to impress a girl. It does not end well.
Elian suppressed a smirk and kept moving.
He reached the registration desk. The clerk, a bored-looking woman with thick glasses, didn't look up.
"Name?" "Elian Vance." "Class?"
Elian hesitated. If he said "None," he'd be put in the Civilian bracket—cannon fodder. If he said "Dungeon Architect," he might raise flags. It was a Unique Class.
"Builder," Elian lied smoothly. "Sub-class of Earth Mage. Specialized in fortifications."
The clerk typed it in. "Builder. Support role. Group D. Take your badge."
She slid a plastic card across the desk. [Candidate #404].
"Fitting," Elian muttered. Error 404: Hero Not Found
The waiting area was a vast stone pit beneath the arena floor. Hundreds of candidates were warming up—swinging swords, casting practice spells, or meditating.
Elian found a quiet corner near a support pillar. He leaned against it, closing his eyes, letting the vibrations of the room wash over him.
With his new Intelligence (40) stat, his senses were sharper. He could hear the whispered conversations of the nervous rookies. He could feel the mana humming in the air.
Scan the room, Kaelen ordered. Find the Cultist.
Elian opened his eyes. [Blueprint Sight: Active].
The world turned into a wireframe grid. People became walking collections of stats and gear. He scanned the crowd. Level 5 Warrior.Level 7 Rogue.Level 12 Paladin (Valerius).
Then, his gaze landed on a figure sitting alone on a bench. He was a thin, unassuming man wearing loose robes. He looked like a scholar or a weak healer. He was reading a book.
[Subject: Unknown][Class: Priest (?)][Level: 14]
Look closer, the Ghost whispered. Look at his mana signature. Not the surface. The core.
Elian focused. He pushed his Blueprint Sight deeper, peeling back the layers of the man's aura. Underneath the white, holy light of a Priest... there was a rotting, purple sludge.
[True Class Detected: Acolyte of Decay][Item Detected: Void-Bomb (Concealed in spine).]
Elian's blood ran cold. The man had a bomb surgically implanted inside his own body.
"That's him," Elian breathed. "The suicide bomber."
He detonates during the third round, Kaelen recalled. The explosion kills forty-two candidates. We must neutralize him before then. But not here. Too many witnesses.
Elian marked the Cultist in his mental map. Target Acquired.
________________________________________________________________
The First Test: The Measurement
A horn blasted, shaking dust from the ceiling.
"Candidates!" a magically amplified voice boomed. "Proceed to the Arena Floor!"
The massive iron gates ground open. Sunlight flooded the pit. The roar of the crowd hit them like a physical wave.
Elian walked out with Group D. The arena was deafening. High above in the VIP box, the Guild Masters sat like gods on Olympus.
In the center of the arena stood a massive, obsidian obelisk. The Testing Stone.
"The First Test is simple!" the Proctor announced. He was a veteran Hunter with a scarred face. "Touch the Stone. Pour your mana into it. It will measure your Capacity and Control. If you don't light it up to the Bronze Line, you go home!"
The candidates lined up.
The first boy, a nervous warrior, touched the stone. It glowed a faint red, barely reaching the bottom mark. "Fail! Next!"
The second, a girl with a bow, touched it. It rose to the Bronze line. "Pass! Next!"
Then it was Valerius Thorne's turn. The noble strode up, waved to the crowd, and slapped his hand on the stone. WHOOSH. The stone erupted with golden light. The bar shot past Bronze, past Silver, and hit Gold.
The crowd went wild. "A Gold-Rank prospect!" "House Thorne is blessed!"
Valerius smirked, basking in the applause.
Elian watched from the back of the line.
"Ghost," Elian thought. "If I touch that thing with your Memory Core inside me, what happens?"
The Core contains the mana residue of a Level 80 Sword Saint. If you uncork it, you will shatter the stone. And then the Guilds will dissect you to find out why a Level 11 Builder has the mana of a god.
"So I need to throttle it."
Precisely. Use your Architect skills. Visualize your mana channels. Build a dam.
Elian closed his eyes. He pictured the burning river of mana inside his chest. [Edit Mode: Internal] He couldn't edit his flesh, but he could edit the flow. He constructed mental floodgates, narrowing the river to a trickle.
"Next! Candidate 404!"
Elian stepped up. The Proctor looked at his plain gear and sighed. "Make it quick, kid."
Elian placed his hand on the cold obsidian.
Open Gate 1. Keep Gates 2 through 10 closed.
He pushed a tiny sliver of mana into the stone. The stone hummed. A white light began to rise. It hit the bottom. It climbed... slowly... shakily.
It reached the Bronze Line.
Elian tried to pull his hand away. "Okay, that's enough."
Warning, the System flashed. External suction detected.
The Stone was hungry. It sensed the ocean of mana behind Elian's dam and tried to pull it out. The "floodgates" in Elian's mind groaned.
Crack.
A leak sprung. A pulse of Kaelen's golden mana slipped through.
On the obelisk, the light suddenly jumped from Bronze to Silver in a microsecond.
"Crap!" Elian panicked. Build a wall!
He slammed a mental brick wall over the leak. The light stopped rising instantly, hovering just inside the Silver tier.
But the sudden spike caused the stone to vibrate. A high-pitched whine echoed through the arena. CRACK.
A hairline fracture appeared on the surface of the obsidian, right under Elian's hand.
The Proctor blinked. He looked at the light (Silver). He looked at the crack.
"Did... did you just break the Testing Stone?" the Proctor asked, confused.
Elian pulled his hand back as if burned. He put on his best "clueless idiot" face.
"I... I don't know! It was old! I barely touched it!"
The Proctor frowned. He tapped the stone. The light was stable at Silver-Low. The crack was superficial. "Weird," the Proctor muttered. "Must be wear and tear from Thorne's Gold run. Alright, kid. You passed. Barely Silver. Don't let it go to your head."
Elian let out a breath. "Thank you, sir."
He walked off the stage, his heart hammering. He had aimed for Bronze. He got Low-Silver. Acceptable. He was above average, but not a prodigy.
But as he walked back to the waiting area, he felt eyes on him. He looked up.
In the VIP box, a woman was leaning over the railing. She had long crimson hair and eyes like a hawk. Guild Master of the Blood-Rose. And beside her, whispering in her ear, was Sera.
Sera pointed a finger directly at Elian.
"She found me," Elian realized. "She recognized the mana signature."
She suspects, Kaelen corrected. She doesn't know for sure. That spike was generic mana, not Void or Light. She just thinks you're hiding something.
Elian merged into the crowd of passing candidates.
"Let her look," Elian thought, gripping his rusted sword. "The second test is the Hunting Grounds. If she sends her goons after me there... they're just more XP."
The Second Test Announcement
Once the measurements were done, only half the candidates remained. About two hundred people.
The Proctor stood on a raised platform.
"Congratulations on not being useless!" he shouted. "Now for the real test. The Mock Dungeon."
The floor of the arena began to rumble. The sand shifted. Massive holographic projectors whirred to life. In an instant, the sunny arena was replaced by a projection of a dense, dark forest.
"This is a Simulation Field!" the Proctor explained. "It is populated with Hard-Light constructs—monsters made of mana. They can't kill you, but they will hurt, and if your HP shield drops to zero, you are disqualified."
"Your goal: Collect 3 monster cores and reach the Exit Gate." "Time Limit: 2 hours." "Anything goes. PvP is allowed, but killing is banned."
The crowd cheered. PvP allowed. That meant the nobles could hunt the commoners to eliminate the competition.
Elian scanned the forest. [Structure: Hard-Light Holo-Grid][Terrain: Artificial Trees (Destructible)][Traps: Hidden Pitfalls (detected)]
He smiled. A forest. Construction materials everywhere. Wood. Earth. Stone.
"Ghost," Elian whispered. "Do I have to collect the cores myself?"
The rules say 'Collect'. They do not say 'Hunt'.
Good. Because I'm not going hunting.
Elian looked at the "Builder" badge on his chest.
I'm going to build a toll booth.