Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

The main examination site for the European theater was located in a ruin outside Paris, a former industrial park that is now just ruins and rusty steel frames.

The examination room had no track, no equipment, only one examiner and one order: run from here to the dead tree three kilometers away, then run back, repeat five times, and the last 500 people who run back will be eliminated.

Elena stood on the starting line, surrounded by more than a thousand applicants.

There were all sorts of people, young and old, men and women, tall and short, fat and thin. To her left was a young man who looked to be under twenty, who was so nervous that he kept shaking his leg. To her right was an old man who was about the same age as her, with all white hair, but his back was ramrod straight.

"Ready—Go!"

There was no starting pistol, only the examiner's shout. More than a thousand people rushed out at the same time.

Elena didn't rush. She knew she was 62 years old and her knees were artificial, so she couldn't compete with younger people in terms of explosive power. Therefore, she maintained her own pace, running forward step by step, neither too fast nor too slow.

Three kilometers is not a short distance for a 62-year-old woman.

She started panting halfway through the run.

When she was two-thirds of the way through, her knees started to hurt. By the time she reached the dead tree, she had fallen to the back of the pack.

But she didn't stop.

Then they turned around and ran back.

When she ran back, she was out of breath. Her lungs felt like they were filled with fire, and every breath felt like swallowing a handful of shards of glass.

The second time, her knees hurt even more; the third time, her vision started to blur. The fourth time, she didn't know how she managed to run the whole thing; she only knew that her legs were still moving mechanically.

On the fifth lap, as she crossed the starting line, her legs gave way and she knelt down.

People around were already lying down, some were vomiting, some were crying, and some were motionless and being carried away on stretchers.

The examiner walked over and squatted down in front of her.

"Finished running?"

Elena, panting, nodded.

The examiner glanced at the record board.

"Fifty-seventh place, passed."

He stood up and walked toward the next person who had finished running.

Elena knelt on the spot, panting heavily.

Her artificial knee hurt like it had been smashed with a hammer, but she grinned.

The main examination site for the Asian theater was located in a valley on the southern slope of the Himalayas, at an altitude of 3,000 meters, where the air was thin and the temperature was minus five degrees Celsius.

Liz herself served as the examiner.

She stood on a protruding rock, looking down at the dense crowd of applicants, each with a rosy complexion from the cold and panting heavily, but no one backed down.

“The test is very simple.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but everyone could hear her. “Run from here to the opposite ridge and back. The altitude rises by 300 meters, and the distance is 5 kilometers. The last 500 people to return will be eliminated.”

Someone in the crowd swallowed.

Five kilometers, an elevation gain of three hundred meters, is nothing on flat ground, but in a mountainous area at an altitude of three thousand meters, minus five degrees Celsius, and with thin air, it is a matter of life and death.

"Didn't you hear me?" Liz looked at them. "Those who didn't hear me can leave now."

No one quit.

"Then run."

The crowd surged out.

Kyle was in the middle of the group. He didn't run fast, but every step he took was steady. His two weeks of hiding had taught him to conserve his energy and to survive in the harshest environments.

After running for a kilometer, someone collapsed.

A man who looked to be in his thirties, pale-faced and with purple lips, suffered from altitude sickness and collapsed on the mountain road. Two medics rushed up, lifted him onto a stretcher, and ran down the mountain.

Kyle didn't stop; he kept running past the fallen man.

At the two-kilometer mark, another person collapsed. A young girl, so thin she was just a skeleton, gave way as she ran. Her companion tried to help her up, but the examiner stopped her.

“Keep running,” the examiner said. “She’ll have someone to handle her.” Her companion gritted his teeth, left her behind, and kept running.

At the three-kilometer mark, Kyle's legs started to feel weak, not from fatigue, but from lack of oxygen.

Every breath I take feels like inhaling thin air, and every breath I exhale feels like squeezing the last bit of oxygen out of my lungs.

But he kept running.

At the four-kilometer mark, he could no longer see the group in front of him or the group behind him; he was alone with the path leading to the ridge.

He remembered the guy who saved him, the nameless face, and the glance he gave back as he was being taken away.

He gritted his teeth and kept running.

When he reached the ridge, he was out of breath, his vision went black, and his ears were ringing, but he didn't stop. He turned around and ran down the mountain.

When he ran back to the starting point, he knelt down on the ground, panting heavily.

Liz jumped down from the rock and walked up to him.

"name?"

"Kyle".

Liz looked at him for a few seconds.

"You were...the one she recommended?"

Kyle paused for a moment before realizing who 'she' was.

"Yes."

Liz nodded and didn't say anything more. She had only asked out of curiosity, but she would never go easy on anyone, because going easy on someone in this kind of selection might not help them, but rather harm them.

She walked toward the next person who had finished running.

Kyle knelt on the spot, watching the people still running in the distance.

He didn't know what place he came in, or whether he would make it; he only knew that he finished the race.

The first round of testing lasted seventy-two hours.

Twelve million people participated, and nine million were eliminated.

The reasons for elimination are varied and bizarre:
Running too slowly, lacking strength, collapsing halfway, suffering fractures, dehydration, and cardiac arrest.

Some didn't even reach the test site; due to traffic disruptions and communication breakdowns, they were trapped in some ruins and couldn't get out.

The three million people who passed the test received their tickets to the second round of testing.

The second round of testing began three days later.

This is not just a simple physical fitness test; it's a real, hard-fought battle.

The combat testing facility for the North American theater was located on the third basement level of the Kansas base.

This place was originally an ammunition depot, but it was temporarily converted into a huge circular combat zone, fifty meters in diameter. The ground was covered with a thick layer of sand, and it was surrounded by high blast walls with more than a dozen observation windows. The examiners sat behind the windows, recording the performance of each applicant.

Isaac stood in the waiting area, watching people walk into the combat zone one by one.

The first person to go in was a man in his thirties.

His opponent was a combat puppet used for guild training. It was 1.8 meters tall, with a metal frame and covered with a layer of energy coating that imitated holy light. It didn't get tired or feel pain, and it would only attack according to a preset program.

The battle lasted forty-seven seconds.

When the man was knocked down, the puppet's metal fist had already broken three of his ribs.

As he was carried out on a stretcher, passing by Isaac, he was still muttering, "I haven't lost yet... I can still fight..."

The second one to enter was a girl in her early twenties. Her opponent was a captured low-ranking angel whose wings had long been plucked and whose holy light had been suppressed, but the madness in his eyes was sharper than any weapon.

The girl held on for thirty-one seconds. (End of Chapter)