At this moment, 200 meters away from Sumir, in a building's fifth-floor monitoring room, chaos was breaking out.
A middle-aged man wearing an olive-green military uniform adorned with several medals on his chest stood, his expression filled with astonishment as he stared intently at the screen.
"That glow…"
"The aura of an innate talent's core... this is the hallmark of an A-grade innate talent!"
"But why is this energy so faint?!"
"This doesn't make sense. Those capable of awakening A-grade innate talents typically possess formidable internal energy. How could it result in such a fragile and fleeting wave of power?"
The officer's tone was laden with doubt. At the same time, he felt a sense of relief.
If it hadn't been for his sudden impulse to review potential talents, ordinary staff members would have never noticed the violet-red radiance—a distinctive sign of A-grade innate talents. That fleeting flash of brilliance was something only seasoned professionals could recognize.
"Brigadier Velos, in that case… should we issue him a Platinum Card?"
One of the staff members cautiously made a suggestion.
A Platinum Card was reserved for individuals with the potential to awaken C-grade or higher innate talents. However, the young man on the screen, identified as Sumir, exhibited weak energy reserves. The probability of him even achieving a C-grade innate talent seemed low.
Issuing a Platinum Card would already be seen as a favor, considering the brigadier's personal involvement. Normally, by protocol, the association might only grant Sumir a Gold Rookie Card.
Velos, however, sneered at the suggestion.
"Are you all idiots?"
His sudden outburst made the surrounding staff turn pale. Not one of them dared to talk back.
"Do you have any idea how rare A-grade innate talents are?"
"Across the entire Stellar Continent, spanning multiple federations and nations, fewer than 20 A-grade innate talents are discovered each year!"
"And those 20 individuals? They're snatched up by the major guilds. How many can we, the official forces, manage to recruit?"
"To my judgment, this young man, Sumir, has at least a 10% chance of awakening an A-grade innate talent. A tenth of a chance! That's not insignificant!"
"Even if his odds were a mere fraction of a percent, he'd still be worth the gamble!"
"Grant him the highest-level Black Card."
"If we aren't willing to invest, how can we ever hope to recruit top talent?"
He spoke in a loud, commanding voice, and the atmosphere in the conference room grew heavy.
Everyone turned to look at the brigadier and then at the image of the young man on the surveillance screen. They were momentarily stunned. A... Black Card?
In New Los Angeles, a rookie worthy of receiving a Black Card appeared only once every ten years on average!
This young man, Sumir...
Was he about to ascend to greatness?
With a Black Card in hand, even as a non-Registered Player, Sumir would gain access to a considerable amount of the association's resources.
Even if he didn't end up awakening an A-grade innate talent, the Black Card privileges were reviewed annually. For the next year, Sumir could leverage the Black Card to tap into massive resources, elevating his abilities to an extraordinary level.
How could anyone not be envious?
"Brigadier Velos, we don't have the authority to directly issue a Black Card…"
One of the staff members hesitated before voicing their concern.
"Use my authority." Velos replied firmly.
He reached into his player inventory and pulled out a crystal card encrusted with sparkling diamonds. With deliberate precision, he inserted the card into the slot beneath a massive screen in the conference room.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
In an instant, the crystal card activated, and information about the young man named Sumir began transmitting rapidly—from New Los Angeles across the entire Stellar Federation.
Inside several highly classified rooms, staff members retrieved their sealed dossiers, their expressions solemn.
They recorded the name Sumir and marked it for preservation.
This young man could very well represent the future of the Stellar Worlds.
...
Meanwhile, Sumir had been waiting for over ten minutes.
He had grown tired of standing and sat cross-legged on the floor, leisurely chewing on his "jerky."
The Beast Flesh of the Bloodline was inconspicuous in appearance, resembling nothing more than a snack. Sumir could consume it openly without fear of arousing suspicion.
Suddenly, the mechanical whirring of servos echoed through the room. A robot resembling a server entered, bowing at a perfect 90-degree angle with a polite smile plastered on its artificial face.
"Mr. Sumir, congratulations on passing the Reserve Players certification. You have been granted Black Card privileges."
"These privileges will undergo an annual review during the Registered Players assessment. However, as you have obtained the Black Card ahead of schedule this year, you will not be subject to review. Next year, your privileges will be evaluated and may be retained or downgraded based on your strength and potential."
With that, the robot handed over the Black Card to Sumir and left immediately.
The importance of a Black Card rookie was paramount. No human staff member was allowed to interact with such individuals unnecessarily. Robots were dispatched to deliver the card to prevent anyone from using the opportunity to curry favor.
The international authorities had invested heavily in cultivating talents like Sumir. Attempts to exploit personal connections? Out of the question!
Sumir, holding the Black Card in his hand, was a bit dumbfounded.
A Black Card? What was that?
He had never heard of it before.
Confused, Sumir stared at the card. Thankfully, he wasn't just some naive, ignorant teenager.
As a transmigrator who had consumed a fair share of films and literature, Sumir could roughly guess that the Black Card symbolized a significant level of privilege. Without hesitation, he slipped it into his pocket and left.
...
"Sumir's coming out?"
In the waiting lounge, Vivian was sitting with her eyes closed, trying to calm her restless mind. Fragmented visions kept surfacing in her thoughts, unsettling her. But her lively companions' chatter soon broke her reverie, forcing her to open her eyes.
"He looks pretty happy, doesn't he?"
"Do you think he actually passed the certification?"
"Impossible! His physical stats are so weak. There's no way he passed. At best, his attributes probably increased a bit, and now he's just excited about that."
"Too bad for him, though. I heard Sumir's an orphan. Even if his attributes improve, it's pointless. Unless he hits at least 1.0 in physique, he's doomed to end up as cannon fodder for the guilds."
"Who knows? Maybe when Vivian joins a guild, Sumir will end up in her servant battalion. He'd better work hard. It'll make him more useful for Vivian!"
...
The girls speculated wildly, even expressing a kind of backhanded "happiness" for Sumir. But their joy carried a tinge of pity.
They knew that no matter how hard Sumir worked, it wouldn't matter. Without the chance to become a Player, he'd ultimately be relegated to cannon fodder.
At best, he might serve as a slightly stronger pawn in someone else's game.
Vivian frowned but refrained from speaking. She couldn't deny that her friends weren't entirely wrong.
Someone like Sumir, with his background, would indeed end up as cannon fodder if he didn't make it as a Player. Those expendables were typically assigned to the same-year rookies who had succeeded in becoming Players.
It wasn't unlikely that Sumir might someday be assigned to her team.
"If we ever meet in the field, I'll do my best to look out for him." Vivian thought quietly.
...
But just a few seconds later, the entire lounge erupted in noise.
Vivian turned her gaze forward.
Standing at the front desk was Sumir, speaking with one of the staff members. It seemed he was there to collect the official resource rewards given to those who passed the Reserve Players certification.
The staff member wore a bright, friendly smile.
"May I see the ID card you received after passing certification?"
"You mean this?" Sumir asked casually, pulling out a black card from his pocket.
Vivian watched as the staff member froze mid-motion, her expression shifting into one of shock. With visible hesitation, the staff member took the Black Card from Sumir and swiped it through the machine at the counter.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Instantly, the massive screen in the lounge lit up, taking over the room's attention.
"Respected Spark Plan candidate number 100215, Mr. Sumir. The New Los Angeles Players' Association is honored to serve you."
"Respected…"
…
"Your current access level is—Black."
The broadcast echoed repeatedly across the large screen, filling the entire lounge with its announcement.
The room erupted into chaos.
"Holy crap!"
"They're announcing it to the whole lounge?!"
"A Black Card holder!"
"Am I dreaming?"
"Is the Black Card actually real?"
"Can someone explain what the Spark Plan is? It sounds insanely prestigious."
"Oh my god, there's a Black Card holder in New Los Angeles! This year's turning out incredible for us!"
"With this, do we actually have a shot at winning the Multi-City Championship?"
...
The crowd split into two factions.
One group was utterly confused, overwhelmed by shock. Just what was this Black Card and Spark Plan? It seemed absurdly prestigious to warrant such a dramatic announcement in the lounge.
The other faction, including Vivian's classmates, was in stunned disbelief. They had thought Vivian's Platinum Newcomer Card was already rare and invaluable. But even that didn't come with any public announcement!
What kind of extraordinary privilege did the Black Card and Spark Plan represent?
Their gazes turned toward Sumir, awe-struck and slightly disoriented.
This doesn't make sense!
The quiet, unremarkable boy from the training facility…
Had suddenly transformed into someone so formidable that the entire Players' Association seemed to be placing him on a pedestal.
The thought of their earlier remarks—about Sumir being destined to become a servant or cannon fodder—suddenly made their faces flush with embarrassment.
They felt their cheeks grow warm, tinged with awkwardness and regret.