He looked at the back briefly. The middle-aged man was watching closely. Many other participants looked shocked — yes. But there was nothing out of the ordinary expression. So everything was going on as it was supposed to.
Heart pounding, Seika looked ahead and continued.
Forty-four.
Forty-eight.
Fifty.
The moment he crossed fifty, realization hit him like lightning.
'I… passed?' His chest tightened. He looked back again.
Faces stared at him in disbelief. He laughed weakly under his breath, emotion choking his throat.
But then… He turned forward again. If he had come this far… why stop?
Fifty-five.
Sixty.
Murmurs turned into shocked whispers.
"That boy! Does anyone know who he is and which family he is from?"
"Nope. He's wearing rags… But his luck seems to be very strong."
"How is this possible?"
Meanwhile, Seika continued to climb the stairs.
Sixty-five.
His breathing grew heavy now — not from pressure, but disbelief.
Seventy.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
