"Hi. I'm here to apply for the [Apprentice Warrior] Professional Certification."

  Lance walked straight to the registration window at the deepest end of the Level 1 Hall.

  A young female receptionist sat behind the counter.

  In this era of highly advanced AI, 90% of service jobs had been replaced by robots. However, the Awakened Guild retained a large number of human staff. It wasn't just a status symbol; many complex professional consultations required human empathy and judgment.

  "Alright. Please show your [Citizen Identification Code]. Additionally, this certification requires a 1,000 Credit examination fee. I must remind you: this assessment carries extreme risk. Statistical data shows a mortality rate of 30%, while the pass rate is only 10%. Please consider this carefully!"

  When the receptionist saw Lance’s youthful face, she visibly paused. Anyone daring to challenge the certification at this age was either an arrogant rich kid looking for thrills or a peerless genius. And Silver Moon City produced fewer than ten such geniuses a year.

  The vast majority of young people would cultivate safely in academies until they were eighteen before daring to take this step.

  Thus, out of professional duty, she offered a solemn warning.

  "Mhm. I understand the risks. Here is the 1,000 Credits and my ID code."

  Lance nodded slightly, his expression calm. He raised his wrist, and his terminal projected a holographic screen displaying his personal identity information. In this interstellar age, that complex string of code was everyone's second life. With the right clearance, any institution could instantly pull up your entire file from birth to present.

  As for the fee, the receptionist tapped a few keys, and the Credits were deducted directly from Lance’s account.

  "Alright, the procedures are complete. Please wait a moment."

  Seeing Lance’s resolve, the receptionist didn't try to dissuade him further. She efficiently finished his registration.

  "Hello, esteemed Prospective Professional. Your assessment is scheduled to begin promptly at 1:00 PM, in ten minutes! Please proceed immediately to [Live Combat Simulation Hall No. 8] to prepare!"

  Moments later, she handed Lance an electronic exam permit with a polite smile.

  "Thanks."

  Lance nodded in thanks, then turned and walked toward the assessment zone behind her. Soon, he arrived at the waiting area for Hall 8. Over a hundred candidates of various shapes and sizes had already gathered.

  "So many people? If ten halls operate simultaneously, that's a thousand people.

  "One round per hour, open ten hours a day... that's ten thousand assessments daily!

  "Even with a 10% pass rate, that means at least a thousand people get their Professional Badge every day!

  "That's over 300,000 a year. Three million in a decade...

  "Does Silver Moon City really have that many Professionals?"

  Lance looked at the surging crowd, a seed of doubt planting itself in his mind.

  The total number of Professionals in Silver Moon City was clearly displayed on the holographic billboard at the Guild entrance: a mere 130,000.

  Based on the city's permanent population of over ten million, only one out of a hundred cultivators with Mana affinity eventually became a true Professional.

  But that didn't match the "10% pass rate" the receptionist mentioned.

  "First time, Rookie? Scared by the turnout?"

  A deep voice interrupted his thoughts. A burly, bald man carrying a two-handed battle axe noticed Lance’s contemplation and grinned.

  Lance looked up at him and replied politely:

  "Just a bit confused. Care to explain the math here, Veteran?"

  "Hah, I crunched the same numbers when I was like you."

  Seeing that Lance lacked the arrogance typical of young geniuses, the burly man felt a twinge of goodwill. He patted the axe on his back, speaking like someone who’d seen it all.

  "The official 10% pass rate and 30% death rate are real.

  "But you gotta understand, ninety percent of those 'passers' are leftovers like me. Failed the first time, back for a second, third...

  "And that 30% death rate is the deadliest trap. You might get lucky and survive the first time, but the second? Many people refuse to give up and end up dying on their third or fourth try.

  "It's a funnel of death. Do the overall math, and the real survival rate is less than 10%.

  "Besides, even if you get the badge, fighting monsters in the Wilderness isn't playing house. Those 130,000 Professionals in Silver Moon City are the survivors standing on a mountain of corpses.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  "So, Kid, if you aren't absolutely sure, I suggest you go back and train for another two years. Wait until your panel stats crush the standard line before you come back. That's the safe play."

  The burly man looked at Lance with a hint of warning in his eyes.

  "I see. Survivorship bias. Thanks, Veteran."

  Lance nodded. His confusion cleared, but his gaze didn't waver in the slightest. For him right now, this rookie assessment was just a warm-up.

  "You've got a good mindset. Better than those noble brats with their noses in the air. By the way, I'm Marcus. If you have questions about the rules inside, just ask."

  Seeing Lance remain calm despite understanding the danger, Marcus couldn't help but feel a grudging respect.

  "Will do, Marcus. I'm Lance."

  Lance smiled.

  Marcus watched Lance’s young back and sighed inwardly. Hope the kid actually has skill and isn't just blindly confident. Last year, a genius from the Royal Academy walked in just as confident. He came out in pieces...

  Just then, a cold mechanical broadcast echoed through the hall:

  [System Announcement]: Attention all candidates for Live Combat Simulation Hall No. 8. The assessment is about to begin! All personnel please enter the designated area immediately!

  Just then, a cold mechanical voice echoed in everyone's mind. Upon hearing the command, the crowd in the waiting area began to file into Hall 8 in an orderly fashion.

  Looking around, the youngest among these candidates were in their twenties, while the older ones had heads full of white hair and unsteady gaits, appearing to be at least over a hundred years old.

  In this interstellar era abundant with Mana Energy, the average human lifespan had extended to around 170 or 180 years.

  So, striving for a breakthrough at over a hundred years old wasn't uncommon.

  But the cruel reality was that if one failed to break through to [Silver Rank] (the Innate Stage), physical functions would irreversibly decline with age. Strength would plummet, and they would eventually revert to being ordinary humans.

  Most of these elderly candidates came with a "one last time" mentality. For them, walking out of the exam alive was already the greatest luck. Passing? That was almost a pipe dream.

  If nothing unexpected happened, Lance, without his System, might have shared the same fate—fading into obscurity under the erosion of time.

  But now, amidst a sea of weathered faces, Lance, a teenager, stood out like a sore thumb.

  Under the surprised gazes of nearly everyone present, he calmly walked into the assessment hall.

  The interior of Assessment Hall 8 was extremely spacious, lined with dozens of sci-fi metal machines arranged in neat rows.

  There were no human examiners around; everything was managed by the intelligent system.

  [System Command]: Professional Certification Phase 1 — Basic Quality Inspection Initiated!

  Test Items: Explosive Force, Movement Speed, Durability!

  Any candidate who meets the standard in a single item may proceed to the next round of Live Combat Assessment! All candidates, please find a vacant machine and input your ID to begin testing!

  The cold electronic voice broadcasted from above the hall once more.

  "Lance, listen up. The passing line for the strength test is 1,500 kilograms! But they allow Mana bursts and War Arts amplification here, so don't hold back. Just hit the target with your best effort! I'm heading over first. No rush; you can watch others to see how it's done."

  Marcus offered a kind reminder before striding toward a vacant testing machine.

  "Got it. Thanks."

  Lance nodded slightly, understanding the parameters. 1,500 kilograms seemed high, but with the boost from War Arts, a base physical strength of around 1,300 kg combined with a [Proficient] low-tier explosive art would barely scrape a pass.

  The threshold was reasonable.

  With that in mind, Lance walked toward another vacant machine. This military-grade tester was far more precise than the simple grip dynamometers on the market. Ordinary grip testers only measured static muscle strength, failing to capture true dynamic explosive power.

  After all, everyone’s force exertion techniques differed, and mastery over War Arts varied wildly.

  Some clumsy warriors had brute strength but could only output 1,000 kg of damage with 1,000 kg of base strength. Highly skilled martial artists, however, could amplify that same physical strength to 1,200 or even 1,300 kg through refined techniques!

  Thus, a legend persisted in the academies: if anyone could train [Basic Military CQC] to [Expert] level before the unified exams, they would be guaranteed admission to a Key War Academy.

  And if they reached the legendary [Perfect] level? They would be seed candidates fought over by the Imperial Royal Academy!

  Of course, these were just legends. In the entire history of Silver Moon City, only one genius over a hundred years ago had trained a basic art to Expert level, and that person indeed soared to greatness.

  [System Alert]: ID Verified! Candidate: Lance. Please begin your Explosive Force Test!

  Stepping into the enclosed testing pod, about ten square meters in size, the prompt sounded.

  The floor slowly split open, and a black punching target made of high-strength memory alloy rose up.

  This was the legendary [Gravity Sensor Target].

  "Since I just need to pass, I'll control it a bit... around 1,000 kilos of force should be about right? Might as well test the feel of this [Titanium Collapse Fist]!"

  Lance looked at the target, a playful smile curling his lips. He took a deep breath, mobilizing the metallic Mana unique to the [Titanium War Art]. His right fist was instantly coated in a faint metallic sheen, and then, with a casual motion, he punched out.

  BOOM-RUMBLE!!!!

  In an instant, a deafening explosion like a thunderclap detonated within the enclosed pod!

  The testing machine, weighing several tons and anchored by hydraulic suction cups, shuddered violently under the terrifying impact. The entire unit slid backward a few centimeters, emitting a tooth-aching screech of metal grinding against metal.

  And the alloy target, designed to withstand tons of impact? It crumbled like a fragile cracker under Lance's fist, exploding into a shower of metallic debris!

  The massive commotion startled the others testing nearby, their faces draining of color.

  Outside, the candidates waiting in line whipped their heads around, staring in horror at the testing pod that was now billowing smoke.

  "My God! The whole machine shifted? What kind of terrifying power is that!?"

  "Damn it! That machine has a counterweight of at least 4,000 kilos. To knock it back, the instantaneous explosive force has to be over 4,000 kg!"

  "Impossible! With 4,000 kg of burst, he should be certifying for [Bronze Rank · 5-Star]! Why is he slumming it with the rookies!?"

  "Wait... I think I saw that kid named Lance go in there? Is that what they call a genius? That explosive power is inhuman!"

  "What? That teenager? That's insane! Is he a monster cub wearing human skin!?"

  The prospective Professionals outside stared wide-eyed in disbelief once they confirmed it was Lance inside.

  However, even more shocked than them was the group of big shots in the surveillance room on the top floor of the Awakened Guild.

  Inside the [Professional Certification and Grading Department] on the fourth floor, over twenty senior examiners—all at least [Bronze Rank · 7-Star]—were boredly watching the surveillance screens, observing the rookies struggling below.

  "Boss, the quality of newcomers in Silver Moon City is getting worse every year. It's been a month, and we haven't seen a single seedling rated B-grade or higher. There's really no need for you to personally oversee such boring low-level assessments."

  A young examiner yawned, complaining to the middle-aged man sitting in the main seat.