Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

But they didn't know that outside that barrier, twelve million people were queuing up, waiting to become the knife that would kill them.

Twelve million applications.

This number weighed heavily on the hearts of everyone at the Witcher Guild headquarters, like an invisible boulder.

The technical department expanded the server capacity three times overnight, barely managing to withstand the flood of submissions in the last hour before the deadline.

The logistics department spent a full twelve hours calculating the approximate number of test sites, personnel, and supplies needed.

On the day the final data came out, Renault stared at the number '12374691' on the screen and remained silent for a long time.

"The total number of registered Witchers worldwide is less than 300,000." His voice was slightly unsteady. "Where did the remaining ten million or so come from?"

Wu Heng stood next to him, also looking at the number.

"From the ruins."

The selection criteria were finalized six hours after the deadline.

Four rounds of testing.

The first three rounds are preliminary selections, and the last round is the formal trial. The elimination rate in each round is over 90%, and after four rounds, ten people are left.

Round 1: Physical fitness test. Assessing basic strength, speed, endurance, and resilience to impact, eliminating nine million people, leaving three million.

Round Two: Real-world testing. Players will battle against guild-trained puppets and captured angel prisoners, assessing their combat skills, adaptability, and mental fortitude. Two million nine hundred thousand will be eliminated, leaving one hundred thousand.

The third round: Loyalty Test. A mind magic array is used to test whether applicants have selfish motives, whether they are loyal to humanity, and whether they can uphold their principles at critical moments. Ninety thousand people are eliminated, leaving ten thousand to enter the final trial.

On the day the plan was sent to the seven war zones, Dean watched as the number 'ten million' was crossed out on the screen and muttered, "This is fucking harder than winning the lottery."

Sam didn't say anything.

He just stared at the number 100,000, lost in thought.

The first round of testing was launched simultaneously in all major war zones.

The main testing site for the North American theater was located at an abandoned air force base in Kansas.

The runway was converted into a test site, and the hangar was filled with temporarily deployed medical equipment and monitoring instruments. Applicants from all over the country poured in like a tide, and the queue stretched from the base gate all the way to the highway three kilometers away.

Isaac stood in the middle of the line, surrounded by people on all sides.

On the left is a middle-aged man with a stubble beard, his right arm wrapped in bandages, but his eyes are steady.

On the right was a girl who looked to be under twenty years old, as thin as a stick, but she had two daggers tucked into her waistband, the handles of which were polished to a shine.

In front of him was a tall, black man a head taller than him, with a string of names tattooed on his back, so many that it was impossible to count them all.

"Are you from Chicago too?" the bandaged man asked him.

Isaac nodded.

Which district?

District 17.

The man was silent for two seconds.

"District 17... is completely gone."

Isaac didn't say anything.

The man looked at him, his gaze falling on the corner of the family photo peeking out from the man's chest.

"Family?"

Isaac nodded.

The man didn't ask any more questions.

The procession moved slowly forward, with ambulances arriving every few minutes from the direction of the testing area, sirens blaring, rushing towards the field hospital. Some people were carried out still conscious, some had already fainted, and others...

Isaac didn't look much, and by the time it was his turn to enter, the sun was already setting.

The testing area is a circular area with a diameter of 200 meters, and the ground is covered with military-grade impact-resistant rubber.

Three examiners in guild uniforms stood in the center of the arena, surrounded by rows of monitoring equipment. Dozens of medics stood around the perimeter, holding adrenaline and tourniquets.

"Isaac." The examiner called his name without even looking up.

"arrive."

"Stand behind that line."

Isaac walked behind the white line marking the starting point. Ten meters in front of the line, there was a metal box about half a person's height.

"Test item: Strength." The examiner's voice came through the loudspeaker, "Strike that box with all your might. There are sensors on the box that will record your impact force."

Isaac walked up to the box and took a deep breath.

He hadn't learned any fighting skills. Three days ago, he was just an ordinary construction worker, dealing with cement and steel bars every day. But thirty years of physical labor had given him a pair of strong arms and shoulders that could withstand heavy pressure.

He clenched his fist, and with all his might, slammed it onto the box. "Bang—!"

The dull thud echoed through the arena. The box remained motionless, but his knuckles were instantly torn open, blood splattering onto the metal surface.

"Strength: 720 kilograms." The examiner's voice remained steady. "Next test: speed."

Isaac returned to the starting line, where there was a straight track 200 meters long, with a red timing board at the end.

"run."

He immediately strode forward.

His legs felt like lead after running for a short while, but he kept running. He hadn't eaten anything properly for three days, and his stomach only contained half an expired energy bar. Blood dripped from his knuckles onto the track. Every step was excruciatingly painful, but he was unwilling to stop.

Two hundred meters, in thirty-one seconds.

The examiner drew a line on the record board with his pen.

"Next test: Endurance."

Isaac stood behind the starting line, looking at the 200-meter track. This time he needed to run ten laps, back and forth, and twenty turns.

During his first run, he could still feel the muscles in his legs working; during the second run, his breathing became labored; during the third run, he tasted blood in his throat; during the fourth run, his vision began to darken; during the fifth run…

He didn't know how he managed to make ten trips.

When he stopped, his legs went weak and he knelt on the ground. His stomach was churning, and he dry-heaved on the ground, but nothing came out. Blood was still flowing from his knuckles, dripping onto the impact-resistant rubber and forming a small puddle.

The examiner's voice drifted over: "Endurance: Above average. Last test: Impact resistance."

Two examiners wearing protective gear walked up to him.

"Stand up."

Isaac braced himself against the ground and slowly stood up.

"Stand firm."

He had barely stood up when the first examiner punched him in the stomach.

"vomit--!"

The last bit of acid in his stomach gushed out. He clutched his stomach and bent over. Before he could even catch his breath, the second examiner's leg swept across his calf.

He fell to the ground.

"Get up," the examiner said coldly.

He got up.

Another punch.

Then he fell down again.

Get up again.

Another punch.

Then he fell down again.

Get up again.

He didn't know how many times he fell or how many punches he took, but he knew that every time he fell, he would hear the examiner say "Get up."

He used the ground as leverage to push himself up, his body completely drained.

When he finally got up, he could barely stand. Things were swaying in front of him, his ears were ringing, and his chest felt heavy, as if a huge rock was pressing on it, but he still stood up.

The examiner looked at him and remained silent for a few seconds.

"Test complete. Go outside and wait for the results."

Isaac turned around and walked step by step toward the exit.

After walking a few steps, he suddenly stopped.

“Examiner.” His voice was as hoarse as sandpaper.

"what's up?"

Did I... pass?

The examiner looked at him but did not answer immediately.

"The results will be available in three days. Go back and wait for further notice."

Isaac nodded and continued walking out.

When he left the testing area, it was already dark. The base was brightly lit, and everywhere he looked, there were people like him, covered in injuries and limping, but with the same fire burning in their eyes.

He found a corner to sit down, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. (End of Chapter)