"Nine… eighteen… twenty-seve—ah, screw it." Daiki gave up mid-count.
The walls around them stretched as far as his eyes could see, towering so high they made his neck ache.
Naoya stared at the turrets above those walls. "One mis-step inside and they'd reduce you to confetti."
Daiki whistled low. "At least your family wouldn't need to argue about the coffin size."
Ahrie smirked. "True. They'd just sweep you up with a mop."
All three stood there, grinning like psychos in front of the most dangerous wall on Earth.
The field outside those walls buzzed like a damn marketplace.
Trainees lounging on the grass, cracking jokes, trading snacks… like this was a school trip.
Meanwhile, Ahrie, Naoya, and Daiki stood locked in.
"I can't wait to get my skill once I pass the trial," some guy bragged, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Man, my family paid the trainers last time… should I ask them to pay for this too?" a smug rich kid laughed.
"Oh my god, Why can't we just enter the damn tree already? My husbandos are waiting," a girl with colorful nails sighed.
Laughter.
Chatter.
Too casual for what this place really was.
Suddenly, someone walked up front.
A man in a black suit.
His face was covered with scars.
"Good day, everyone… welcome to the Firewall."
"...So we were teleported," Naoya muttered.
"You're currently inside one of many training sites— Facility In-49," the man continued.
"In case you're wondering… there are about a thousand of you here…"
He let that sink in, scanning the faces in front of him.
"The number of kiddo's trying to enter the World Tree goes up every year.. Last year alone? Two hundred thousand signed up."
"Most died."
"The rest came back crippled… Missing some limbs."
He let the silence drag for a second.
"We're not looking for weaklings…
We don't need useless trash."
"This entire process was designed to weed people like You out."
He locked eyes with a few trainees who weren't paying attention.
"Keep dreaming, and you'll be gone before you even get a glimpse of what's inside."
A hush spread.
He rolled his shoulders once. "Anyway. Three tests stand between you and your entry ticket… fail even once… and you're out."
"First test—Endurance."
He snapped his fingers.
A siren wailed across the field.
"START RUNNING!"
First Test – Endurance
Task : Run 24 laps / 9.6 kilometers. Finish in under 60 minutes.
People burst forward the second the word "run" left his mouth.
Daiki shot ahead, grinning. "Let's go, slowpoke! First to lap ten gets bragging rights for the whole damn month!"
Ahrie cracked his neck, smirked. "You sure you wanna get humiliated this early?"
He blasted off after him.
Naoya didn't even rush. Just sighed, hands in his pockets for the first few steps before breaking into a lazy jog. "Idiots."
By the time they circled back, Daiki looked half-dead, legs wobbling like noodles.
Ahrie? Barely sweating.
Daiki gasped, bent over. "H-how the hell do you… always run like that?"
Ahrie stretched his legs, grinning. "Can't help it. Some of us are just built different."
Naoya passed by them without even glancing.
"You're both clowns."
Someone at the back slowed down, hands on their knees, wheezing like an old man.
Didn't take long—two, three more stopped. Not because they were dying, just because they saw someone else quit and thought… yeah, screw it.
The man in the suit strolled over, hands in his pockets, calm as hell.
"Why'd you stop?" he asked, like he was just making small talk.
One rich kid straightened up, chest puffed.
"Tch. This is pointless. My family—"
"Shut it.."
The man cut him off, while glaring at the kid.
"The Monsters eat people like you for breakfast."
Another trainee piped up, annoyed. "Seriously, what's the point of this? The World Tree isn't a marathon."
That made the man laugh.
"Fantasy bullshit," he muttered.
His voice turned ice-cold.
"You think the Tree's a fucking theme park? A game? One step means you live… next step—you're dead. If you can't even last a jog, how the hell do you expect to outrun something with claws bigger than your pathetic ego?"
He reached into his coat and turned his back on them, pulled out a folded slip, and whispered.
[Restriction].
In an instant, every trainee who had stopped vanished.
Gasps rippled across the field. Some runners stumbled mid-step.
Others pushed forward, suddenly aware of the stakes.
The man didn't flinch. Didn't even look back.
"Don't mind them," he said flatly. "They failed."
Meanwhile, Ahrie and Daiki exchanged a glance—both grinning like idiots.
"Last one owes snacks!" Daiki barked mid-sprint.
Ahrie's grin widened. "Hoho… free food."
Naoya, still pacing steadily, chimed in without emotion, "Sounds fun."
The race was on.
Ahrie crossed first— 35 minutes, chest heaving but still smirking.
Naoya trailed a minute behind, calm as if he just finished stretching.
Daiki dragged himself in at 38, gasping for air.
"You… absolute freaks…" Daiki wheezed, bent over, hands on his knees. "Since when did you run like fucking gazelles?"
From the sidelines, the scarred man in the suit watched, scribbling something down on his clipboard.
"Hmm," he muttered. "Not bad… kiddos."
First Test complete.
742/1000 remaining.
"Let's proceed."
The man in the suit turned away.
"Everyone, gather and move to the shooting range."
Second Test – Shooting Proficiency.
Task : Hit 10 human-sized dummies placed 50 meters away.
You're given 15 bullets. Only 5 missed allowed.
"Line up!" The man's tone was loud, it cracked through the field like a whip.
"Pick a gun… any gun.. Go."
The trainees hesitated for a moment… rows of pistols, rifles and even a few old-style revolvers were laid out across a long steel table.
The trainees surged forward.
Some grabbed whatever looked cool.
Some rushed forward, scrambling like kids at a clearance sale.
Others walked with purpose.
The first shot went off.
BANG.
Then another.
BANG. BANG.
Shells clattered across the floor. Someone flinched at the recoil and almost shot the guy next to him.
The man in the suit just stood there with his hands in his pockets, watching chaos unfold.
"...Pathetic."
Some trainees nailed bullseyes.
Others? Shot dirt. Shot in the sky.
One guy almost shot his own shoe.
"Next batch!" the man shouted.
Naoya glanced sideways at Daiki.
"...What?" Daiki muttered, wiping sweat.
Naoya looks at him with a straight face, "Food…later."
Daiki grinned. "Yesss… you gluttony bastard."
Ahrie snorted, doubling over. "God, you two are hopeless."
"Next batch.."
Daiki grabbed a pistol, spun it like some cowboy. "Woaa—" the gun almost slipped out of his hand.
Naoya silently reached for a matte black semi-auto. He checked the weight, aimed down the sights once, then nodded to himself.
Ahrie moved forward as well.
"Name and base?" an assistant asked.
"Ahrie Von Creed, South Fortress—Japan Branch."
The assistant tapped into a data-pad.
Beepiiiididaaap.
The data-pad beeped.
"Alright, Ahrie. Eight visible targets. Score depends on hits… head, chest, limbs. Knock'em all down, two more pop up. Faster is better… got it?"
Ahrie raised a hand. "Question."
The assistant blinked."...Yeah?"
"Why are the targets… human-sized?"
Silence. The guy twitched, eyes on the data-pad. "If you really want answers—pass the test."
Ahrie exhaled, closing his eyes.
Steady breath. Steady mind.
He grabbed two pistols, opened his eyes… and moved.
Bang…Bang..Bang.
Targets 1, 2 and 3 fell in under a second.
By the time he hit the 8th, the last two launched… before they even fully rose, they were down.
The assistant was stunned. "Head to the waiting area."
Ahrie dropped the pistols with a light thud and walked over.
Ahrie smirked. "Naoya~ How'd you do?"
Naoya lifted a lazy thumbs up.
Then Ahrie turned to Daiki. "...Why are you staring at the floor?"
Daiki scratched his head. "Hehehe…I, uh… missed two."
Naoya, blank as ever, muttered, "it's nice to know you."
Ahrie burst out laughing. "You'll be remembered. Forever."
"Man, screw you both…" Daiki shot back.
Second Test complete.
451/742 remaining.