Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

Thirteen thousand two hundred and forty-seven people.

The number flashed for three seconds on the screen at the Witcher Guild headquarters before being overwritten by the next document.

Only a simple notification remained on the screen: Those who have passed the third round of screening, please arrive at the designated location within twelve hours to attend the final trial briefing.

The briefing for the North American theater was held in a hangar at the Kansas base.

More than three thousand people crowded onto the empty concrete ground, looking up at the expressionless examiner on the makeshift platform.

The hangar doors were half-open, revealing a gray sky and the occasional passing military transport plane.

Isaac stood in the third row of the crowd. To his left was a middle-aged man with a stubble beard, and to his right was a girl as thin as a stick.

He had just learned their names: the middle-aged man was Harris, from Detroit, and his family was gone; the girl was Michelle, eighteen years old, from New York, and had been hiding underground for thirty-one days with nineteen other people.

"Quiet," the examiner's voice came through the loudspeaker.

The hangar fell silent instantly.

"You've passed the first three rounds of selection, congratulations." The examiner paused, "but that's enough for now."

The large screen behind him lit up, displaying only a few lines of text:

Final Trial Location: Dead Zone
Trial nature: A life-or-death trial; there is no way to quit midway.

Expected survival rate: 1 in 1,000
Rules: No rescue, no pause, no exit, die or pass.

A suppressed commotion arose in the hangar.

"One in a thousand?" someone shouted. "Then out of more than three thousand of us, how many will survive?"

The examiner looked at him.

"We only need ten in the end, so ten at most, assuming we can get all the spots in our war zone."

The man opened his mouth, but no words came out.

The examiner continued, "Now, you have a choice: sign and enter the dead zone; or don't sign and leave now."

Those who leave will not be prosecuted, will not be considered deserters, and will not have their future Witcher careers affected. This is your last chance to choose freely.

Two staff members behind him carried out a long table, on which was piled a thick stack of documents.

"A waiver of liability for death," the examiner said. "Once you sign it, you will officially become participants in the final trial. The guild will not be responsible for any injuries, disabilities, or deaths that occur in the Dead Zone. Your only reward is to become one of the one in a thousand who will become a Demon Hunter Knight."

The crowd fell silent.

No one moved.

The examiner looked at them and waited for three seconds.

"You have ten minutes to think it over. Those who are willing to sign, line up. Those who are not willing to sign, leave through the back door."

He turned and walked off the podium, leaving behind the table piled high with documents and more than ten thousand pairs of eyes staring at it.

Isaac stood there, staring at the piece of paper.

One in a thousand, out of more than ten thousand, only ten will survive.

He remembered that family photo. He remembered the faces of his wife and children.

If he survives and becomes one of the ten, he can kill even more angels—a thousand, ten thousand, until there isn't a single living thing left inside that barrier of holy light.

If he dies inside, then he will go to see them.

It's all about family reunion anyway.

He walked to the table, picked up a pen, and signed his name on the death waiver.

“Isaac.” The examiner wrote down his name without looking up. “Stand on the left.”

He stood on the left.

The second person to come over was Harris. He glanced at the paper and signed it without saying a word.

The third was Michelle; her hand was trembling slightly, but she signed steadily.

The fourth, the fifth, the sixth...

Ten minutes later, out of 3,247 people, 1,831 signed up.

1416 people left through the back door.

No one looked back when they left. Many of them may have been filled with hatred, but they risked their lives for a one in a thousand chance.

They either want to kill some evil creatures with their own hands, even if the number is limited; or they don't think they can pass and become one of the thousand, after all, everyone's physical condition is different.

If it were a matter of exchanging their lives for the death of a mad angel or a demon, perhaps they would be willing, but they don't want to die and can't take someone down with them.

This is about choice and self-awareness, not about fear.

The briefings for the European theater were held in an old church on the outskirts of Paris, with the same rules being heard and the same numbers being seen.

Elena stood in the front row. One in a thousand—she calculated that out of more than two thousand people in the European theater, only two would survive, maybe even fewer.

She thought of her son.

She thought of the message 'I'm fine,' and wondered what Manchester was like now.

If she dies in the Death Zone, she will never see him again in this lifetime.

If she survives and becomes a Demon Hunter, perhaps she can find him sooner.

She walked to the table and signed it.

Someone tugged at her sleeve from behind. It was a young girl who looked to be under twenty, with red eyes.

"Auntie," the girl asked, "aren't you afraid of dying?"

Elena looked at her.

"afraid."

"Then why did you sign it?"

Elena was silent for two seconds.

"Because I'm more afraid of him dying."

She turned and walked to the left.

The girl stared at her retreating figure for a long time, stunned.

She eventually signed it.

Of the 2,317 personnel in the European theater, 1,843 signed up and 474 left.

The briefing for the Asian theater was held in a tent at the foot of the Himalayas. Liz stood on the podium, looking at the more than a thousand faces below.

Kyle stood in the front row; his injury hadn't fully healed, his chest was bandaged, and he walked with a slight limp. But he stood very straight.

Liz didn't say much; she simply read the rules aloud and then pushed the death waiver onto the table.

"Those who want to sign, sign; those who don't want to sign, leave."

Kyle was the first to walk over.

His pen landed on the paper, and he was about to sign it when Liz suddenly spoke up.

Do you know what one in a thousand means?

Kyle looked up at her.

"know."

"You're only nineteen. You still have a long way to go."

Kyle was silent for a second.

“I owe a life,” he said. “If I don’t repay it, there’s no point in living any longer.”

He signed his name.

Liz looked at him without saying another word.

Of the 1,329 people in the Asia theater, 974 signed up and 355 left.

Twelve hours later, the number of signatories from the seven war zones was tallied and sent to headquarters.

Of the 13,324 people, 7,425 signed, and 5,899 chose to leave.

Wu Heng stared at the number, his face expressionless.

"Is the Dead Zone ready?"

Renault nodded beside him: "Ready, the infernal creatures have been deployed, the angel and demon puppets are in position, and the monitoring system covers the entire area."

"Send them in."

The entrance to the Dead Zone is located on the deepest underground floor of the guild headquarters.

That place is connected to the Gates of Hell, and Wu Heng transformed it into a branch entrance leading to the Purgatory Passage.

At this moment, a silent line of 7,425 people stood at the entrance, gathered from all over the world.

Some of them were so old that their hair was completely white, while others were so young that their faces still had a childlike quality. Some were covered in scars, and some were wrapped in bandages, but their eyes were all the same.

It was the kind of look that comes from having seen too much and no longer being afraid.

Wu Heng stood at the entrance, looking at the group.

He didn't speak, but simply raised his left hand. The four-colored halo on the balancing glove glowed slightly, and the metal door behind him slowly opened, revealing a downward-extending passage that shone with a dark red light.

"Go in," he said indifferently. (End of Chapter)