Rift's Edge

There were only ten minutes left until the trial ended.

The wind on the platform had not weakened. Heat waves rising intermittently from the valley floor still swept gravel and mist into the air from time to time. Several shattered eggshells lay scattered along the rock wall, together with dried bloodstains left on the slope, like silent footnotes to this selection.

Leorio sat in a corner with his arms around his knees, looking exhausted. He stared blankly at a row of small marks on the ground, unable to stop himself from thinking about the other person sitting motionless nearby.

"Who the hell is that guy..." he muttered.

In the distance, the other candidates were growing quieter and quieter. No one was going down anymore. Three people still had not completed their tasks, but all of them were stuck halfway, too afraid to advance or retreat.

Meanwhile—

At the Hunter Association's mobile observation station, the main screen cycled through footage from Spider Hawk's Nest from multiple angles. Several surveillance cameras tracked different candidates. Some were rescued and hoisted back up after nearly falling, some sat silently without a word, and some had already begun taking painkillers as they waited for the trial to end.

Three examiners sat upright at the conference table, with all manner of documents and materials spread before them. At that moment, they were engaged in a serious discussion to compile the results.

Suddenly, another elderly examiner broke the silence. He gently pushed a simple statistical chart to the middle of the table, then pointed at it and said, "Look. This chart cross-references target completion time and action frequency among candidates from the same batch."

Everyone's gaze fell upon the sheet of paper. Dozens of lines representing candidates were drawn across it, crisscrossing into a complex graph. A closer look revealed that the vast majority followed a stop-and-start rhythm—fast at times, slow at others, with large numbers of repeated paths.

The meeting room immediately fell silent. Only the rustle of paper and quiet breathing could be heard. The examiners looked at one another, apparently all considering what this data represented.

Just then, as the final upward current rose from the bottom of the cliff, mist surged up once more, and shattered eggshells still remained on a rock. Menchi glanced at the time and announced loudly, "The exam is over!"

Her voice echoed across the empty cliffs, as if putting a full stop to the tense examination. She then added, "Time's up. Anyone who has not submitted their egg, or whose eggshell is broken, is eliminated."

Those words struck every candidate's heart like a heavy hammer.

At that moment, everyone reacted differently. Some lowered their heads in silence; some slapped their thighs fiercely, seemingly deeply dissatisfied with the outcome; others clenched their teeth and buried their disappointment beneath unreadable expressions. Only a few looked visibly relieved.

Leorio slowly rose from the ground and stretched his legs, which had gone numb from sitting too long. He had handed in his egg half an hour ago, yet his legs now felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead. He dragged himself forward for two steps, then could not help looking toward the boy—Ryan was still sitting quietly there, his back perfectly straight and his hands resting naturally on his knees, as though the tense atmosphere around him had not affected him at all. He showed neither impatience nor relaxation. That calm was clearly not an act, but something born of deep inner steadiness and confidence.

Leorio stared at Ryan and could not help sighing inwardly. This guy really is a tough one to deal with! Still, he did not approach Ryan. He merely let out a quiet sigh. "What a pain." Even with his personality, he had no idea what to do.

At that moment, Examiner Menchi stepped forward. She swept her gaze across everyone present. Her voice was not particularly loud, yet it carried an authority that suppressed the entire scene. "The task is over," Menchi announced. "Forty-two people have passed." She paused slightly, seemingly deliberately creating a moment of suspense, before adding unhurriedly, "Your performance... was passable."

Upon hearing that, several people forced out faint smiles, but most remained silent, clearly dissatisfied with the result.

"Bringing back the egg does not mean you've won," Menchi said casually. "This is only the second stage of the exam. There are plenty of people smarter than you. There are also plenty who are more ruthless."

As she spoke, her gaze happened to sweep across every candidate who had passed.

Ryan did not look at her. He seemed to have merely lowered his head to adjust his shoelaces, but the timing of that "coincidence" always made it feel anything but accidental.

"Other staff will come shortly to write your numbers on the clearance forms."

With that, she left without lingering.

Other staff descended from the airship and moved busily through the area, swiftly and methodically collecting lists and organizing the site. Ryan slowly stood up, lightly dusted the dirt from himself, then silently followed behind the others to register.

Ryan's steps were unhurried. He did not deliberately look at anyone, nor did he intentionally avoid anyone's gaze. He naturally fell in at the back of the crowd, though that did not mean he was the last to arrive. Several more candidates came up behind him to join the line, leaving him at just the right spot near the middle-back.

As he walked, Ryan thought to himself, I wonder which unlucky bastard I replaced? The number is actually pretty close to what the original story described. Just as he was pondering this, he casually looked up and met Leorio's eyes. Leorio had finished registering and was walking ahead of him. The two exchanged a glance without speaking. As they passed each other, they each gave a slight nod.

That nod was neither a greeting nor an expression of gratitude. It was more like a tacit confirmation of "I know." It was as though they shared some wordless communication, each understanding the other's existence and significance.

Farther away, aboard the airship, Netero stood quietly before a window with his hands behind his back. His gaze passed through the clouds toward the rolling sea of clouds in the distance. Behind him, someone reported in a low voice, "The Spider Hawk trial has ended. Forty-two candidates qualified. Injured... people. Withdrawals... people..."

Netero did not turn around after hearing the report. He merely said softly, "This year's exam really has produced an unexpectedly abundant harvest." His voice was calm, yet tinged with surprise.