CHAPTER 231: TAKING THE HUNTER’S TEST (2) (BONUS CHAPTER)

Result: D+

For a moment, the hall went still.

The value flickered across the screen in bright green letters, hovering just above the black impact plate. The sound of muffled murmurs followed, rippling through the crowd behind him.

Liam lowered his fist and exhaled slowly, with a satisfied smile on his face.

He hadn’t held back on that punch—he’d gone all out. The D+ result meant his blow had registered above the human norm by a wide margin. To everyone else, it was impressive. To him, it was satisfactory.

"Nice," he muttered quietly.

The lady in the black suit holding a digital tablet smiled and nodded approvingly as she recorded the data.

Liam inclined his head politely before stepping aside. The others in line whispered among themselves, mostly impressed as Strength stat rank of D+ was no means small.

Liam ignored the stares and walked toward the next testing area—Agility.

The queue was longer here. The test itself looked simple: a specialized treadmill with motion sensors and it adapts to each participant’s limits in real time.

While he waited, he thought about his Strength stat test result. It has been a while since he actually checked his stats. It has been like forever.

Curious, he decided to check it.

[Host: Liam Scott]

[Age: 18]

[Lifespan: 220 years]

[System Level: 4]

[Strength: 104]

[Agility: 103]

[Stamina: 104]

[Ability: Telekinesis]

[Constitution: Myriad Armament Constitution]

[Attribute Points: 0]

[System Points: 40]

[Skills: Pro-level Vehicular Operation, World-Class Etiquette, World-Class Culinary Arts, Formless Combat Doctrine, Perfect Memory, Universal Linguistics]

***

Liam smiled when he saw the familiar status screen window again. The last time he checkes it was on his monthly sign-in.

He smiled even more when he remembered that it was the same day he awakened his superpower.

He closed the window with a thought and turned his attention back to the queue. A girl with short brown hair was currently taking her test.

Her feet pounded against the moving belt, legs blurring as she sprinted with all her might. After ten seconds, the treadmill beeped.

Result: E+

The girl gasped for air, bent over in exhaustion. When she saw her result, her face fell. She stepped down, eyes wet with frustration, and left the platform without a word. A few friends tried to console her, but they would most likely not succeed.

Liam watched quietly, expression unreadable. He could almost feel her disappointment. The atmosphere in the hall carried that constant tension—the fine line between triumph and defeat.

"Not everyone gets what they want," he whispered.

He wondered briefly whether the System Store could grant unique abilities here too. If it could, he might look into it later. A world full of Hunters meant a world full of potential—and danger.

After almost thirty minutes, his turn finally came.

The examiner, a middle-aged man with sharp eyes and a trimmed beard, gestured toward the treadmill.

"Whenever you’re ready," he said flatly, holding a stylus over his tablet.

Liam nodded. He stepped onto the treadmill, the machine adjusting automatically to his weight and size. Soft lights flickered along the edge of the treadmilll as the sensors synced with his bracelet.

He inhaled, exhaled—and moved.

To the naked eye, it looked effortless. His form was perfect—shoulders relaxed, stride balanced, with steady rhythm. The treadmill accelerated, adapting to his speed, but Liam barely noticed. The world around him blurred, wind brushing his face, heartbeat steady.

Ten seconds later, the examiner called, "Stop!"

Liam slowed down gradually and stepped off the platform. The screen blinked once, then displayed his result.

Result: D+

The examiner nodded to himself, as he took down the result.

Two D+ results. Liam was satisfied. It was enough to blend in and strong enough to be taken seriously.

He moved on to the next area—Mana Capacity.

The test was simple. A massive orb of glowing blue energy floated on a pedestal. The test-taker only had to place a hand on it. The device would read their mana reserves and output a ranking.

The mana capacity test is the most important of the test, as it’s what mostly determine the person’s final ranking. The higher the mana capacity, higher the final rank.

Also, the higher the mana capacity, higher the physical tests’ results. Mana enhances the body and makes people stronger.

The line moved quickly. Most people barely scored above F or E Rank. Some orbs flickered out entirely, showing near-zero mana.

When it was his turn, Liam placed his palm against the orb.

A warm sensation spread through his skin, like static electricity. The orb glowed brighter—then dimmed. No letters appeared. Nothing.

The examiner frowned and tapped his device. "Hmm. That’s odd. Let’s try again."

Liam placed his hand back on the orb.

Once again, it glowed faintly and went blank.

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"What’s happening?"

"Did it glitch?"

"Maybe he’s got no mana at all—why’s he even testing?"

Someone near the back laughed quietly, "Probably one of those wannabes who think they’ll awaken during the test."

Liam ignored the comments. He simply removed his hand, nodded politely to the examiner, and walked toward the next area.

The examiner hesitated, watching him go with furrowed brows. A blank reading on a calibrated orb wasn’t just rare—it was almost impossible. The orb always showed something.

Unlike the test takers, she knew something they don’t know. The test orb being used can only access mana capacity level of F Rank to A+ Rank.

This meant that the kid’s mana capacity is at least S Rank. I have to pass this information immediately.

This was far more easier for her to believe than to believe that Liam doesn’t actually have a drop of mana in him. That was simply impossible.

Liam, meanwhile, wasn’t concerned. He knew why it had failed to register. He has no drop of mana.

The final test was Stamina.

Unlike the others, this one was grueling. A 400-meter indoor track encircled a chamber, and test-takers wore specialized vests designed to increase in weight the longer they were worn. The vest absorbed the wearer’s output—each second amplifying the load.

When Liam entered, the previous participant was collapsing on the floor, drenched in sweat. The vest on his chest glowed faint red, registering the weight: 290 kg.

The examiner looked up as Liam approached. "Name?"

"Liam Scott."

The man typed it in and nodded toward the vest. "Fifty kilos to start. It’ll increase every second. Run as many laps as you can before you collapse."

Liam slipped on the vest. It was very light. He took his position at the starting line.

"Ready... Go!"

He launched forward.

The first lap passed easily. The vest pressed against his shoulders, growing denser. The second lap brought a faint resistance. By the third, it felt as if invisible hands were pulling him toward the ground. The vest’s weight now exceeded 400 kilograms.

His legs burned slightly. He sensed that it wasn’t just the vest anymore—something in the room was amplifying gravity.

"Interesting," he thought.

He completed the third lap and stopped. The examiner hit the button, logging the data.

Result: D+

Liam took off the vest, breathing evenly. Around him, other participants stared. Some whispered, others shook their heads in disbelief. He didn’t look winded—just calm, composed, as if the test had been routine.

Three D+ results. Consistency itself.

His final rank was yet to be categorised and there was one test left—the one few dared to take.

The Unique Ability Declaration.

It wasn’t mandatory. In fact, most people skipped it. The "Declaration Door," as it was called, led to a sealed chamber where Hunters who believed they possessed unique abilities could attempt official verification.

It was known for one thing: humiliation. The success rate was less than one in a ten million. Many walked in with confidence and came out broken, their claims dismissed as delusion.

So when Liam turned toward that solitary door at the far end of the hall, the crowd reacted instantly.

"Wait—he’s going in?"

"Is he serious?"

"Another one of those?"

A young man, probably no older than twenty, rushed toward him, waving his hands.

"Hey, don’t do it. It’s a waste of time!"

Liam stopped, turning his calm gaze on him and said, "Thank you. But I’m aware."

The young man hesitated, caught off-guard by the certainty in his tone. He nodded awkwardly and stepped aside.

The murmurs grew louder as Liam reached for the handle.

Every eye in the hall followed him as he opened the door and stepped through.

The door closed behind him with a hiss.

For a brief moment, silence fell over the room—like the calm before a storm.

Someone whispered, "Another fool."