The testing facility looked like something out of a military complex. Reinforced concrete walls, blast-resistant glass, and enough monitoring equipment to track a nuclear explosion. I suppose when you're dealing with people who can level city blocks, you take precautions.
Director Park led me through a series of security checkpoints, each one more elaborate than the last. Biometric scanners, mana detectors, and at least three different types of cameras tracked my every movement.
"Impressive setup," I commented.
"We learned the hard way that standard facilities don't hold up well to National Level testing," Park replied, swiping his keycard at yet another door. "Thomas Andre accidentally destroyed our old training ground during his evaluation visit two years ago."
We entered the main testing chamber—a massive underground space that could have housed a football stadium. The floor was marked with measurement grids, and observation decks ringed the upper levels. Even at this early hour, I could see figures gathering behind the reinforced glass.
Gun-hee was already waiting, along with what looked like half the Association's research department. But it was the other figure that caught my attention—a woman in her thirties with sharp features and an aura of barely contained power.
"Mr. Cross," Gun-hee said as we approached, "I'd like you to meet Cha Hae-In from the White Tiger Guild."
She extended her hand with a slight smile. "The famous Adrian Cross. Your awakening has been the talk of the community."
I shook her hand, noting the calluses that spoke of years of swordwork. "Famous might be overstating it. I haven't actually done anything yet."
"That's what we're here to find out," she said. There was something in her tone—not hostile, but definitely evaluating. She was here to measure me as much as the equipment was.
Gun-hee gestured toward the testing area. "We'll start with basic measurements—strength, speed, mana output. Then move on to ability demonstrations if you're comfortable with that."
I nodded and walked to the center of the chamber. The first test was simple enough—a punching machine designed to measure physical strength. The kind of thing you'd see at an arcade, except this one was built to handle superhuman force.
I threw a casual punch, holding back significantly. Even so, the machine registered a force that had several researchers frantically checking their instruments. The number on the display was higher than most S-rank hunters could manage at full power.
"Impressive," Cha Hae-In murmured. "That didn't even look like you were trying."
She wasn't wrong. I was operating at maybe ten percent of what the system had given me. Any higher and I risked breaking their equipment or raising questions I couldn't answer.
The speed test came next—a series of motion sensors arranged in a complex pattern. I moved through them at what felt like a leisurely pace, but the readings had the technicians scrambling to recalibrate their equipment.
"This is impossible," one of them muttered. "These readings suggest movement speeds approaching—"
"Approaching what?" Gun-hee asked sharply.
"Well, sir, approaching what we've theorized might be the upper limits of human enhancement."
I caught Cha Hae-In watching me with increased interest. She'd fought alongside some of the world's strongest hunters, and she clearly recognized that what she was seeing didn't match what I was showing. My casual demeanor didn't align with the power levels being recorded.
The mana output test was where things got interesting. They had me channel energy into a specialized crystal that measured magical power. I let just a fraction of my spatial manipulation abilities flow into it, focusing on the most basic application—minor space distortion.
The crystal began to glow. Then it began to pulse. Then it began to crack.
"Shut it down!" Gun-hee ordered.
I immediately cut off the flow, but not before the crystal shattered completely. The explosion of released energy sent several technicians scrambling for cover, though I noticed Cha Hae-In barely flinched.
"Well," Gun-hee said after the dust settled, "I think we can safely say your mana capacity is... significant."
"Sorry about the equipment," I said, trying to look apologetic rather than amused.
"It's not the first time. Though usually we lose equipment to National Level hunters who are actively trying to show off."
The implication was clear—I'd just broken their measuring device while barely trying. Which raised the question of what would happen if I actually cut loose.
"Should we move on to ability demonstrations?" Gun-hee asked.
This was the part I'd been looking forward to. Time to show them what spatial manipulation could do, while still keeping my true capabilities hidden.
I walked to the center of the chamber and extended my hand. A small rift opened in the air—maybe six inches wide, just enough to demonstrate the concept. Through it, you could see the other side of the room.
"Spatial manipulation," I explained. "I can create rifts in space."
The observation deck went completely silent. Even Cha Hae-In's composed expression slipped for a moment.
"Can you make it larger?" Gun-hee asked through the intercom.
I expanded the rift to about two feet in diameter, then stepped through it, appearing instantly on the other side of the chamber. Several researchers actually jumped backward from the observation windows.
"Teleportation through dimensional rifts," I said, as casually as if I'd just demonstrated a card trick. "I can also manipulate gravity within a limited area."
I gestured at a section of the floor, and suddenly every loose object in that area began floating upward. Papers, pens, even a forgotten coffee cup drifted lazily toward the ceiling.
"Fascinating," Gun-hee breathed. "Can you reverse it?"
I flipped the gravity, and everything crashed to the floor with significantly more force than normal. A small crater formed where the coffee cup hit.
"The applications are... extensive," I said, letting the gravity return to normal.
What followed was two hours of the most intense questioning I'd ever experienced. How large could I make the rifts? How far could I teleport? Could I affect living beings with the gravity manipulation? Did I have any other abilities I hadn't shown yet?
I answered everything with carefully crafted half-truths, demonstrating enough to seem impressive while hiding the true scope of what I could do. I couldn't tell them that I could open rifts large enough to walk through buildings, or teleport across continents, or manipulate gravity with enough force to crush tanks.
By the time we finished, the research team looked like they'd been hit by a truck. Gun-hee appeared thoughtful, while Cha Hae-In seemed to be reassessing everything she thought she knew about power scaling.
"Mr. Cross," Gun-hee said as we gathered in the post-testing briefing room, "I won't lie to you. What we've seen today is unprecedented. Your abilities aren't just powerful—they're unique. We have no frame of reference for spatial manipulation on this scale."
"Is that a problem?"
"It's... complicated. Politically, economically, strategically—having a hunter with your capabilities changes many calculations."
Cha Hae-In leaned forward. "Have you given any thought to guild affiliation? The White Tiger Guild would be very interested in discussing terms."
Before I could answer, Gun-hee's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and frowned.
"What is it?" Cha Hae-In asked.
"Gate break in Gangnam District. A-rank dungeon. The team that was supposed to handle it is stuck in traffic due to an accident." He looked at me. "Mr. Cross, would you be interested in some practical field experience? Consider it the final part of your evaluation."
I felt the system stir in the back of my mind. Not a mission alert, just... interest. As if it was curious about how I'd handle a real combat situation.
"Sure," I said. "Sounds like fun."
Cha Hae-In smiled, and for the first time it looked genuinely warm. "Mind if I tag along? I'd like to see how you handle yourself in actual combat."
An A-rank gate, an S-rank hunter as backup, and a chance to demonstrate my abilities in the field. It wasn't exactly what I'd planned for my second day as Adrian Cross, but it would certainly help establish my credentials.
And who knew? Maybe I'd learn something about the hunter community that would help me track down my real target.
"The more the merrier," I said.
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the back of an Association vehicle, heading toward my first dungeon raid. The irony wasn't lost on me—I was supposed to be hunting anomalies, but instead I was about to become the center of attention for every hunter in Seoul.
Sometimes the best disguise was hiding in plain sight.