Step 1:Measure brain activity level
Step 2:Test the body's basic physical abilities
Step 3:Test for special abilities
Step 4:Orientation on connecting with the Player Device
Nawa stood in front of the display, carefully reading through each step of the registration process.
He already had a rough idea of how things worked, but this wasn't something he could afford to take lightly. One mistake here, and the over 500,000 baht he'd paid for registration would be gone for nothing.
With his current financial situation, it wasn't just a matter of whether he could scrape together that kind of money again to register—he could barely imagine how he was going to pay back the mafia, given how absurdly high the interest rate on his loan was.
Thinking about it made his chest feel heavy, as if a mountain were pressing down on him.The pressure was worse than when he'd thrown himself in front of that flying dagger earlier.
This was the life of the poor.
There was no room for failure.
Every decision came with a price.
Nawa took a deep breath and forced his anxious thoughts away.He knew that worrying too much would only make things worse.
To pass Step 1, a candidate's brain cell activity had to exceed 12.5%.Anyone who failed was immediately eliminated—and, of course, their registration fee was non-refundable.
Because of that, most people tested their brain activity level in advance before paying for Player registration.
But Nawa hadn't.
Even that basic brain scan cost tens of thousands of baht.It was cheaper than the Player registration fee, yes, but still completely out of his reach.Right now, even a few hundred baht was hard for him.Let alone tens of thousands.
"Ding-dong. Queue number 108, please proceed to the brain activity measurement room."
As the announcement ended, Nawa walked toward the examination room, his heart pounding.
He knew he could use Telekinesis—a psychic ability—so it was reasonable to assume his brain activity was above 12.5%.But that was only an assumption.
The brain scanner looked similar to an MRI machine used in hospitals.
He lay down on a narrow bed that slid into a small, enclosed tunnel, completely dark.
As he lay there, he felt like his test was taking unusually long.
The candidates before him had been in and out in two to three minutes each.
But he'd been in there for ten minutes already, and still no result.An uneasy feeling began to creep up inside him.
After several more minutes, the bed finally slid back out from the tunnel—but the staff still didn't announce his result.Nawa immediately got up and hurried toward the technician.
"Excuse me, what's going on? What's my brain activity level?" he asked.
"Um… I'm sorry," the female staff member replied, sounding hesitant.
"It looks like the machine malfunctioned, so we can't give you an accurate result."
"Why? What's wrong with it? And how long will it take to fix? I studied engineering, so if you tell me what kind of error it's showing, maybe I can help you repair it."
He spoke in a rush, a storm of worries pressing on his mind.
What if the machine is broken for a week?
Will I have to pay the registration fee again?
If that happens, how will I pay interest on my loan? What about the time I'm wasting here?
"The thing is…" the staff member looked even more troubled.
"We're not exactly sure what's wrong. But it has to be broken. The machine read your brain activity at 100%, which is impossible."
"As far as I know, the highest recorded brain activity level in the country is around 30%. So clearly, the machine must be malfunctioning."
"Could you come back and test again another day?"She gave him a pleading look, as if hoping he'd just accept it.
Nawa's expression hardened.
"I don't have the luxury to wait that long," he said firmly.
"And besides, this isn't my fault. The machine didn't malfunction for anyone else, so if it shows 100% on my test, you should treat it as a valid result and let me pass."
"But the next phase involves physically dangerous tests," she argued.
"If your brain activity actually isn't high enough, you could get seriously injured during the physical trials. I wouldn't be able to take responsibility if that happens."
She threw out every excuse she could think of, clearly desperate to make him back down.She didn't want to shoulder any blame if something went wrong.
After a long back-and-forth argument, the staff finally agreed to let Nawa proceed to the next step—but only on the condition that they would bear no responsibility if anything happened to him during the test.
Nawa accepted without hesitation.
"In Step Two, we have an unusually large number of candidates today,"
a staff member announced over a speaker.
"To speed things up, everyone will be divided into five groups and rotated through five different test stations. Each group will take turns at each station until all five trials are completed."
Nawa's group's first trial was a defense test.In this test, the use of artifacts or skills was strictly forbidden.They wanted pure, unboosted physical stats.
Anyone caught cheating would be banned from applying as a Player for five years.
The result of the test would appear as a numerical value.A score of 50 or more was considered a passing grade.Normal humans averaged around 15, and even with intense physical training, a non-Player's defense rarely exceeded 50.
However, those with brain activity above 12.5% could push their bodies beyond that limit.That was why the Association used 50 as the baseline standard for selecting new Players.
The first test subject in Nawa's group was a young man named Natee.
He had fair skin, long hair like a woman's, and handsome, delicate features.His posture and the high-quality clothes he wore made it obvious he came from a wealthy family.
The moment he stepped forward, the girls around them erupted into shrieks and excited whispers—even before the test began.Nawa guessed he was probably famous within Asashi Academy.
And he was right.
Natee had been the top scorer in the examination to advance to second year.
Alongside him were three close friends—also in the same testing group—who had all posted outstanding scores in various trials.
Together, the four of them were known as the academy's "Four Heavenly Kings"—
exceptional in both talent and social status.
For them, it was just a matter of time before they rose to become High-Rank Players. The only reason Nawa had ended up grouped with them was because this was the smallest group—most other candidates had avoided it.
No one wanted to be directly compared to these four.