Virgil hears a woman's voice from inside. "Come in."
He opens the door, steps inside, and bows his head slightly. "Madam, I have come to take the test."
She replies, "I know. Go and sit at the last table and draw an inferior talisman ten times."
Virgil lifts his gaze and sees the woman in a navy blue robe of the Talisman Association, a bronze two-star badge on her chest marking her as a first-rank intermediate talisman painter.
He asks politely, "Madam, do I need to succeed all ten times to pass?"
She shakes her head. "No, you must succeed seven times or draw a fine talisman."
Talismans are judged in four qualities: basic, fine, rare, and perfect.
Virgil nods and walks to the back of the room, sitting at the designated table.
He picks a talisman paper from the bundle on the side, dips the pen in ink, and begins to draw the inferior healing rune.
When the drawing is complete, the rune flashes with a soft blue light, and the ink dries instantly.
He sets the first talisman aside and moves on to the second, then the third, continuing without pause.
Qingyu watches him draw.
She didn't think much of Virgil when he entered the room.
His clothes were patched, his body wrapped in bandages—he looked like someone trying his luck to escape the war.
She didn't look down on him because she understood the reality of the battlefield.
Anyone would want to avoid returning to it.
Still, she believed he wouldn't pass—his appearance spoke of poverty.
Talisman making may be the cheapest spiritual path, but it still requires resources.
Only someone slightly well-off could become a talisman painter by the age of twenty.
If he had been over twenty-five, she would have stayed neutral—but at his age, she expected failure.
That assumption changed the moment he drew the first talisman.
There was a calmness in his movements, a steadiness in his hand, like a seasoned talisman painter.
She revised her judgment—he would pass.
Her guess proved right when he succeeded on the second and third attempts without hesitation.
She thought about stopping the test after his seventh success, but decided to let him finish all ten.
Again, the decision felt right.
When he finished the tenth talisman, it flashed with a brilliant blue light and absorbed more spiritual energy than the rest.
She stood up in surprise.
He had drawn a fine talisman—and succeeded ten out of ten times.
Before he could bring the talismans for inspection, she stepped out of her seat and walked to him.
Looking at the ten talismans—each an inferior healing talisman—her eyes lingered on the one glowing with deeper brilliance.
"You could've taken the test a few months ago," she said quietly, "and still passed without trouble."
Virgil looks at her. "I wanted to succeed in one try."
The woman nods. "Let me introduce myself—Lu Qianyu, an intermediate talisman painter. Now we're colleagues, so call me by my name."
Virgil nods. "Miss Qianyu, so… I passed?"
Qianyu holds up the fine talisman. "You drew a fine-quality talisman—how could you possibly fail?"
Virgil smiles, joy flickering in his eyes—he no longer has to stand on the frontlines.
"Then, what should I do now?"
Qianyu says, "Now, follow me to register and receive your reward."
Virgil asks, "What's the reward?"
Qianyu replies, "One hundred inferior talisman papers, a fine-quality talisman pen, three bottles of spider blood ink, a Talisman Association robe, and the Lotus Visualisation and Meditation Technique."
Virgil nods.
Qianyu turns. "Follow me."
He follows her through the second-floor corridor.
As they walk, more people glance his way and whisper.
From his worn clothes and bandages, no one thinks he came to buy talismans or post a task.
They all wonder if he passed the test.
He follows her down a staircase to the first floor and into a large room.
Near the door, an old man sleeps with his head on a desk.
Qianyu slaps the table. "Old Robert, why is it every time I come here, you're sleeping?"
The old man opens his eyes, sighs, and says, "Qianyu, I could also ask—why do you always come when I'm asleep?"
Lu Qianyu shrugs. "Maybe because you're always sleeping."
The old man glances at Virgil with interest. "You're the examinee this time?"
Qianyu nods. "Yes. Give him the reward and register him."
Old Robert stands, shuffles into the depths of the room, and disappears among rows of shelves.
He returns with a bag and sets it on the table.
He looks Virgil up and down. "Go change into the robe at the back of the room. You're a talisman painter now—you can't wear those clothes."
Lu Qianyu adds, "Yes, go on. After that, I'll take you to the library for the spiritual technique."
Virgil nods, takes the robe from the bag, and walks deeper into the room.
He passes shelf after shelf until he reaches the wall, finds the narrow gap, and slips between it and the last shelf.
He strips down to his underwear and puts on the robe.
Walking back, he places his old clothes inside the bag.
Robert sees this and scoffs. "What's the use of keeping those? Throw them away."
Virgil smiles. "Later."
Robert mutters, "I've already registered your name. Before leaving the association, collect your certificate from the receptionist."
"With that, you'll be removed from the war roster and added to the production list. The city will also provide you with a one-bedroom apartment."
Virgil nods, realising how completely his life has changed now that he's become an inferior talisman painter.
Lu Qianyu says, "Everything's done here. Now, let's go to the library."
Virgil follows her out of the room toward the library.
Meanwhile, in the receptionist hall, Mike, Bast, and Janus shift uncomfortably in their chairs—an hour has passed, and Virgil hasn't come back down.
Bast mutters, "He may have passed the test."
Mike and Janus nod slowly, the same thought weighing on their minds.
Janus asks, "A lot of people have rejected our invitation before. Why did we target Virgil?"
Bast shrugs. "He was the weakest and had no backing. Maybe that's why—an easy example to show others the weak can't say no."
Mike shakes his head. "That's not it. The whole gang didn't target him—only Boss Pike did."
Janus frowns. "Why would Pike care? Virgil's just a regular guy, and Pike's a knight. Their paths shouldn't even cross."
Bast says, "I remember now—Boss Pike was the one who told us to invite him."
Janus nods. "Yes, it was Pike who gave the order."
Mike leans forward. "Boss Pike never meant to recruit him. He wanted to teach him a lesson from the start. And when Virgil rejected the invitation, Pike decided to destroy him."
Janus narrows his eyes. "Why?"
Bast looks at Mike, the same question written across his face.
Mike says, "You know Pike's new mistress, right? She had a younger brother—he served in the same unit as Virgil."
"Two months ago, their unit took heavy losses. Only the captain and Virgil came out with minor injuries. The rest either died or were maimed beyond saving."
"Her brother was one of the wounded—lost an arm and a leg, and the other leg was rotting with dead energy."
"He begged the captain and Virgil to end his life."
"The captain agreed—and they did it."
Janus exhales sharply. "So she blamed Virgil for her brother's death."
Mike nods. "She couldn't touch the captain, so she put it all on Virgil."
Bast sighs deeply. "So Boss Pike made an enemy of him—just for a woman."
Their attention shifts to the staircase as the sound of footsteps echoes downward.
A teenage boy appears, descends the stairs, and hands something to the receptionist.
The receptionist reads it and says, "That man passed the test. Really, people shouldn't judge by appearances."
Hearing this, the three gang members glance at each other, then stand and approach the receptionist.
Mike asks, "Miss, did Virgil pass the test?"
The receptionist smiles faintly. "He's not just Virgil anymore. You should call him Mr. Virgil."
Understanding dawns on them—Virgil has officially passed.
They exchange glances and quickly leave the building to report to Boss Pike.
Meanwhile, Virgil steps into the library, his eyes widening at the endless rows of shelves filled with books.
Qianyu chats briefly with the library receptionist, then returns holding a book.
She says, "Come, follow me."
Virgil trails behind her into a quiet room.
Inside, he and Qianyu take seats facing each other.
Qianyu hands him a book. "This is the most basic spiritual technique—no advantages, but no danger either when cultivating."
She continues, "With this, you'll sense your spiritual power in about three months, then you can switch to something better."
Virgil nods and opens the book.
Qianyu stops him. "Don't read it now. Listen first—I'll explain the basics."
Virgil straightens, closes the book, and focuses fully on her.
Qianyu says, "First, visualise a lotus."
"Then draw one of the thirty-six runes from the book onto one petal of that lotus."
"This will make the lotus solid in your mind, allowing you to absorb the chaotic energy around you and refine it to nourish your spirit."
"When you've drawn nine runes, your spiritual power can leave your body, and you'll be ready to use an advanced technique."
She then explains the workings of the association—tasks, contribution points, and the benefits of membership.
With an extra book and his certificate now in his bag, Virgil leaves the building—not toward the administration hall, which is now closed.
He walks instead to his dorm for the last time.
Tomorrow will be a new beginning.