Ryn's scenario was "Hostage Extraction."
The objective was to infiltrate the enemy stronghold and rescue the VIPs being held by armed mercenaries.
Inside the simulation, the stronghold was buzzing with activity. Guards were patrolling the corridors, and in the central room, the hostages were tied up, shouting for help as the kidnappers threatened them.
"HELP! PLEASE! SOMEONE!"
And Ryn Dale?
He was sitting on the very edge of the stronghold's rooftop, his legs dangling over the side. He was leaning back on his hands, looking up at the simulated sky with a bored expression, his eyes half-closed.
It looked like he was going to fall asleep at any moment!
"..."
A vein pulsed visibly on Shaylo's temple.
"Is he... counting clouds?" one of the professors whispered, adjusting his glasses in bewilderment. "The hostages are screaming, the timer is ticking, and he is looking at the sky."
"He has wasted ten minutes already," another professor noted, shaking his head. "The threat level inside increases every minute. If he waits any longer, the execution script will trigger."
Shaylo crossed her arms, her expression tightening.
"This boy..." she muttered under her breath, watching the unmoving figure on Screen 2. "He doesn't take anything seriously."
She remembered his performance in the Combat Showcase. She knew he wasn't incompetent. But this attitude? It was a bit infuriating. Yet, she remained silent, her eyes glued to the screen. She was a professional; as long as he didn't break the rules or fail the objective, she wouldn't intervene.
'Let's see how you handle this, Ryn Dale...'
Inside the simulation...
Ryn let out a long, suffering sigh, scratching his ear.
'So noisy,' he complained inwardly. 'Whoever voice-acted these hostages deserves an award for being annoying. Do they really have to scream every three seconds?'
He checked the time. Twelve minutes had passed.
'If I finish this too perfectly, I'll draw attention again. Being ranked second in the combat showcase is already a disaster. I need to look... barely competent.'
He sat up slowly, stretching his neck. He peered through the dusty skylight window. Below, the terrorists were distracted, their formation loose.
'Distance to floor: 15 meters. Distance to Safe Zone: 150 meters. My recorded limit is about 50-60 meters within line of sight. So I shouldn't jump straight out.'
He formulated a plan.
A messy, desperate-looking plan that would get him a passing grade but keep him out of the "Elite" conversation.
"Alright," he mumbled. "Let's do this."
He stood up and stomped his foot hard on the glass skylight.
CRASH!
The glass shattered, shards raining down into the warehouse.
"What the—?!" The mercenary leader looked up, his Arc-Caster humming to life.
"Intruder on the roof!" the Ranger on the balcony shouted, raising his Heavy Bolt-Caster.
Ryn didn't wait. He jumped through the broken frame.
Vwoom.
Space distorted.
He vanished in mid-air and reappeared instantly in the center of the room, crouching between the three hostages.
"Gotcha," he whispered.
He grabbed the ropes binding the hostages with both hands.
"There he is! Shoot him!" the leader screamed.
Ryn's eyes darted to the balcony. The ranger had a bead on him. In his mind, Ryn saw the trajectory. He could have warped instantly. He could have ducked.
But he didn't.
'Take the hit,' he told himself. 'Make it look real.'
ZZEWW!
The Ranger fired.
A streak of crimson arcana tore through the air.
Ryn was 'too late to dodge'.
The energy projectile slammed into his left shoulder, cauterizing the fabric of his uniform instantly.
"Gah!" Ryn grunted, a spray of red data fragments bursting from the wound. Ideally, it hurt like hell; the simulation pods replicated pain at 20-30% intensity.
He grimaced, his face twisting in "agony."
"Shoot him again!"
"Urgh," Ryn hissed through gritted teeth.
Vwoom.
He warped again, taking the three hostages with him.
They reappeared back on the roof, just outside the skylight. It was a short jump, well within his 60-meter limit.
Ryn stumbled, dropping to one knee as he clutched his bleeding shoulder.
"Down!" he shouted to the confused hostages.
ZZEWW! ZZEWW!
More energy bolts pierced the roof from below, missing them by inches and scorching the concrete.
"We need... to move," Ryn panted, playing the part of the desperate rescuer perfectly.
He looked toward the Safe Zone in the distance. He couldn't reach it in one go, but from this height, he could see the checkpoint.
He grabbed the hostages again.
Vwoom.
They vanished from the roof.
A split second later, Ryn and the three civilians tumbled onto the grass of the Safe Zone, rolling to a stop.
[Objective Complete.]
A soft chime rang out, and a translucent blue interface materialized directly in Ryn's field of vision, displaying his performance metrics.
________
[Mission Report]
[Objective: Hostage Extraction - SUCCESS]
[Hostages Rescued: 3/3 (Perfect)]
[Efficiency: High]
[Combat Rating: Low]
[Final Grade: B+]
[System Analysis: Candidate displays exceptional mobility and decisiveness. However, defensive instincts are critically lacking. Candidate failed to evade a predictable trajectory, resulting in significant injury.]
[Recommendation: Prioritize Evasive Maneuver Drills and Reactive Shielding.]
________
Ryn read the harsh critique regarding his "defensive instincts" and fought the urge to smirk. It was exactly the assessment he wanted.
He lay back on the grass, clutching his shoulder with a grimace as he felt the cameras zooming in.
"Ouch..." he groaned loudly. "That... really hurt."
In the monitoring room, the tension broke.
"He passed," the bespectacled professor exhaled, "but it was messy. He took a direct hit from the ranger. His situational awareness still needs some work."
"Yeah, he was reckless," another professor agreed, scribbling notes. "He relied too much on his ability and ignored the enemy positions. If that had been a headshot, the mission would have failed."
Shaylo stared at the screen, her brow furrowed.
She saw a student who had panicked, made a noisy entrance, and barely escaped with his life. It was a passing performance, but certainly not an elite one.
Well, that's what an ordinary person would think.
But Shaylo's gut told her that something was amiss.
She narrowed her eyes, replaying the last few seconds of the simulation in her mind.
'!'
'...I see.'