Beyond the gate of trial lay a ghastly forest, with a dirt road stretching forward into a seemingly endless gloom. Noah stepped in, glancing around and realizing that the seven others who entered with him were nowhere to be seen. Instantly, he grew wary.
Noah remembered hearing that somewhere in this forest was a massive, savage beast, trained by the Zoldyck family to hunt down intruders. Despite having the strength to open the eight-ton trial door, Noah wasn't foolish enough to believe he could stand against that creature.
Hopefully, they haven't set that thing loose. If they have, none of us would survive, he thought. He recalled what Burong had said earlier—opening the trial door was only the first test. There would surely be a second and third. Cautiously, Noah started down the road, determined to press forward.
In the silent woods, Noah's footsteps echoed around him, the only sound breaking the oppressive stillness. Every shadowed bush along the path seemed ready to spawn a monster at any moment. The dark atmosphere kept his senses on high alert, fueling a constant tension within him.
Were it not for his instincts assuring him of temporary safety, Noah might have frozen in fear or retreated. Thankfully, he was in a different body now—one much stronger and more resilient than his own. This body was forged on Meteor Street, making it far sturdier than ordinary people and capable of feats like opening the second trial door.
After about ten minutes of walking, a small wooden house appeared in his line of sight, with warm light spilling from its windows.
A wooden house? Could this be where the second test is held?
Relief washed over him as he saw the house. The darkness of the forest had weighed heavily on him, and even the sight of this small, lit dwelling was a comfort.
There must be someone inside, Noah reasoned. After all, monsters don't turn on lights.
Approaching the house, he knocked on the door. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
There was no response. He waited, then knocked again. "Hello?"
Still no answer.
Strange, he thought, frowning. He decided to try the door and found it unexpectedly heavy, almost as if it were part of the test itself. The door groaned as he pushed it open, revealing the interior.
The room had a square table with chairs around it, a bright chandelier overhead, and a staircase at the far end leading to the second floor.
"Come up," called a voice from upstairs.
So they're up there? Noah climbed the stairs and found the seven others from the trial waiting on the second floor. By the window stood a tall man, sharply dressed in a tuxedo with glasses, flipping a coin idly in his hand.
Wutong—the head butler of the Zoldyck family, Noah recognized him instantly.
"If you had been any slower, you would've been disqualified," Wutong remarked, glancing Noah's way. The coin landed with a crisp ding in Wutong's palm, and he scanned the group.
"Congratulations. Passing the first test means you're now eligible for the second. Complete this one, and you'll become trainee butlers," Wutong said coldly, letting his gaze settle on each of them.
"Continue down the dirt road, and you'll reach the inner forest. There, you'll find a small iron gate, which marks the dividing line. Only the first two to reach it will pass the test. Do whatever you must to get there." Wutong moved to open a nearby window.
The moment Wutong's instructions ended, two people took off, leaping out of the window in near-unison.
One of them was the tall, thin man who had opened the trial door earlier. The other was Noah, who had caught on to Wutong's message quickly. From the start, Noah had kept his attention on Wutong's every word, positioning himself closer to the window.
As soon as Wutong stepped aside, Noah bolted, aiming for the lead. He knew from Wutong's choice of words—first two to arrive, by any means necessary—that this was a race. And in a race, seizing the initiative is critical.
Noah became a blur, dashing after the thin man as they tore down the dirt road. While running, Noah's mind raced as well, analyzing the situation.
Even though he had the advantage of the head start, Noah stayed vigilant, knowing full well the implications of Wutong's final four words: by any means necessary.
These words made it clear that interference was allowed—perhaps even encouraged. Competitors were free to hinder, attack, or even kill others to secure one of the two spots. And coming from Meteor Street, Noah had no illusions; for the people here, murder was as natural as breathing.
For now, Noah and the thin man had an unspoken truce, given they both held the first and second positions. However, anyone who caught up from behind wouldn't hesitate to strike. Worse, the person in second place was in the most vulnerable position, being both a target for those behind and a threat to the one ahead.
As he considered this, a faint whish alerted Noah. He instinctively twisted his body to the side just in time to avoid a sharp glint of metal. The object whizzed past his cheek and embedded itself in a tree nearby.
Looking closer, Noah saw it was a dagger—a deadly weapon thrown with precision.
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