"So this is the legendary Moonlight District?" Rowan stood outside the entrance of a quiet residential complex known as Moonlight District, where the renowned Limit Training Hall was located.

At the entrance, six armed soldiers stood guard.

After verifying his ID and senior trainee certificate with the gate personnel, Rowan passed through the heavily guarded checkpoint and entered the complex.

Once inside, he immediately noticed the tall, imposing structure of the Limit Training Hall in the center. Around it were clusters of standalone villas arranged in an elegant layout, complete with artificial hills, ponds, and lush lawns between them.

"Not bad at all," Rowan murmured in approval.

The area's high security, serene surroundings, and well-equipped training hall made it an ideal residence for any aspiring warrior.

While surveying the environment, Rowan walked into the Limit Training Hall.

"Excuse me, sir. Are you here for the Prospective Warrior Assessment?"

A smartly dressed woman in uniform greeted him with a warm, professional smile as he stepped into the lobby.

Rowan nodded.

"Great. The assessment will officially begin at 10 o'clock. You're welcome to wait here in the lobby."

She pointed toward a small lounge bar near the lobby, where several individuals were already seated likely fellow candidates for the assessment.

Not one for small talk, Rowan avoided the lounge and instead found a quiet seat in the main lobby. He closed his eyes and began to conserve his energy.

About thirty minutes later, a middle-aged man wearing a training uniform and marked with deep frown lines appeared in the lobby.

"Everyone here for the Prospective Warrior Assessment, follow me."

At his command, the lobby and bar emptied as the candidates gathered around.

Rowan joined the crowd without a word.

Once the group was assembled, the man silently led them into the elevator.

They soon arrived on the sixth floor.

As the doors opened, Rowan saw a vast training hall. Inside were over a dozen people waiting.

Scanning the room, Rowan quickly spotted Norris among them. Judging by their stance and demeanor, these were the examiners likely seasoned warriors, many of them at the elite level.

"All right, the trainees are here. Let's stop chatting and begin," said a tall, long-haired man in a calm but commanding voice.

The room quieted immediately.

Rowan glanced at the speaker and guessed that this must be Wutong, the head instructor of the Limit Training Hall in Central City.

"Let's begin the assessment."

Without wasting time, Wutong initiated the process.

One by one, the trainees presented their IDs for verification and were directed to the first phase: the punching power test.

Rowan was fourth in line.

The three trainees before him each recorded a punch strength of 900 kilograms.

"Next: Rowan."

Wutong slid Rowan's ID card through the reader, and his eyes narrowed slightly when he saw the results. "Sixteen?"

Wutong instinctively looked at Norris. Rowan's registration showed he was from Yian District.

Norris responded with a proud smile and gave Wutong a subtle nod.

Wutong took a deep breath, visibly impressed. His gaze toward Rowan became much more attentive.

The other instructors were equally stunned.

Sixteen years old and already here for the Prospective Warrior Assessment? That was rare and exceptional.

Unfazed by the attention, Rowan stepped forward. Standing before the punching target, he assumed a firm stance feet planted, hips rotated and threw a meteor-fast punch with fluid, explosive force.

Bang!

The punch landed with the precision and power of mercury pouring through steel. Rowan could feel the surge of satisfaction in his bones.

The monitor blinked and displayed the result: 923 kilograms.

"Excellent!" Wutong couldn't help but exclaim.

Although Rowan's punch wasn't the strongest among the first four, he was by far the youngest.

Everyone else here was over twenty.

"To have this kind of strength at your age remarkable potential," Wutong praised, patting Rowan on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Head Instructor," Rowan replied politely.

Wutong smiled and had him step back, allowing the remaining candidates to take their turns.

"You lucky devil, Norris. Where'd you find a gem like him?" one of the other instructors muttered, clearly envious as they watched Rowan return to the group.

Norris simply beamed.

Soon, the other five trainees completed their punching tests. Only two failed to reach the 900-kilogram threshold.

"Next is the speed test," Wutong announced, dismissing the two who didn't pass.

The remaining seven stepped up for the second round.

Wutong's eyes, however, remained fixed on Rowan. His expression held open admiration and expectation.

And Rowan didn't disappoint.

Under the watchful eyes of the instructors, he dashed forward recording a speed of 25.1 meters per second.

"Speed test passed!"

Wutong's excitement became evident.

He exchanged looks with Norris and the other instructors.

They all understood what this meant Central City now had a strong contender for a coveted spot in the National Basic Training Camp.

One by one, the other trainees completed the speed test.

In the end, only three including Rowan met the qualifying standard.

"Congratulations. You've made it to the final assessment."

Wutong led the three into a wide, well-lit chamber labeled Neural Reflex Testing Room.

In the center stood a large and sophisticated machine. At its front were dozens of small, round launch ports more than a Gatling gun's barrels spanning nearly the entire width of the device.

"First up, Rowan."

At Wutong's cue, Rowan stepped into the center of a circular space with a 3.6-meter diameter, directly in front of the testing device.

Click. The switch flipped on.

A red light field activated, surrounding Rowan in a glowing dome.

"If you step out of the circle, you fail. Touch the red light, and you lose points," Wutong explained.

Rowan took a deep breath and nodded.

Wutong pressed the red button on the console.

The machine's barrel began spinning rapidly. Within seconds, dozens of glowing red projectiles fired at Rowan from all angles.

Each shot varied in speed and trajectory, creating a chaotic barrage.

Rowan's eyes locked onto the barrels, his concentration absolute.

As the bullets flew, he moved instinctively anticipating, dodging, weaving.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

In the confined space, Rowan twisted and turned with fluid agility.

Occasionally, thud, thud a few bullets struck his body.

Thankfully, they didn't hurt just rubber-tipped sensors and didn't disrupt his movements.

After a full minute, the machine powered down.

Rowan stood panting, drenched in sweat. Though it had lasted only sixty seconds, it felt like a full-blown combat drill.

"Sixty seconds complete. Hit twenty-nine times. No red-light contact. Result: Excellent."

Wutong smiled as he read the data.

"Congratulations, Rowan. From this moment on, you are officially a Prospective Warrior!"

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