"I can't figure out where I went wrong."
Clay looked up directly at Malcolm, his face showing determination and defiance.
"Do you think you were right? Not considering the woman pointing a gun at you as a threat?" Malcolm asked, his hands resting on the railing.
"I thought it was correct to prioritize the male soldiers as a threat. Maybe I should have considered the woman as their accomplice, but even then, I don't think I should have targeted the woman first and then subdued the male soldiers. And even..."
He paused for a moment, then mocked, "I think even if I had approached it differently, you'd still find fault with me, wouldn't you?"
In response to Clay's sharp retort, Malcolm didn't get angry. Instead, he smiled.
It was clear that Clay's overly strong competitive spirit had, unexpectedly, led him to the right answer, earning him the approval of Chief Instructor Malcolm.
"Well done, Mr. Spencer. Congratulations on completing this assessment with excellent results. I wish you a pleasant weekend."
"Isn't there still the third round?"
Malcolm made a quick 180-degree turn, and Clay, as stubborn as a bull, was momentarily stunned.
"The third round of assessment is already complete, and you did well. You have the best score among the new recruits. Although you're number two, you're still a bit better than number one," Malcolm said with rare humor.
"Uh~"
Clay didn't get it at first, pausing for a moment, but quickly realized.
Thinking about the fact that he had gained the Chief Instructor's approval and scored a perfect score in this assessment, the possibility of securing the foreign aid spot for Team B now seemed unshakable.
Unable to contain his excitement, Clay eagerly stepped out of the assessment area.
It wasn't really Clay's fault that he didn't understand immediately; the way the second and third rounds of assessments were seamlessly linked, catching the recruits off guard, was indeed a clever setup that no one had anticipated.
To be specific, the second round ended when the woman pointed a gun at Clay.
After the second round concluded, Malcolm kept talking because the scene for the third round had already started as soon as their conversation began.
Clay, due to his strong competitive spirit, unintentionally entered the correct mindset.
Based on Clay's performance in the third round, it was clear that the purpose of the assessment was to test whether the recruits had the courage to stand up fearlessly in front of a "strong authority" higher than themselves.
It was also about whether they could think independently when faced with severe doubts and challenges.
DG followed a highly elitist path, requiring every member to possess independent thinking abilities, capable of taking on major responsibilities, rather than being mindless "war machines" who only followed orders.
The biggest difference between a DG elite operative and an ordinary soldier lay here.
For the purposes of this assessment, whether the recruits first subdued the woman or the unarmed black man would not affect their performance in the third round.
Passing the third round depended entirely on the final "war of words."
As Clay had pointed out, this assessment truly had no definitive answer. No matter what approach you took, you would be criticized.
Recruits who noticed this and boldly pointed it out would pass the assessment.
Otherwise, they would be judged as failures.
Undoubtedly, Clay nailed it.
Though it wasn't really because of true enlightenment, but rather his stubborn competitive spirit that led him to accidentally get it right—he had just blindly stumbled upon it.
But the process and the intent didn't matter; as long as the outcome was correct, it was right.
Clay, being the second newcomer to take part, perfectly passed all three assessments and scored high in every one. He set a benchmark.
Unless someone outperformed Clay by a large margin, no one could challenge his spot for the foreign aid role in Team B, especially with the preconceived notions affecting everyone's judgment.
And indeed, this proved true.
None of the more than 20 other recruits managed to surpass Clay's score.
Even Brian, Sarkisian, Mike Adams, and others—frequent top five candidates—also completed all three assessments excellently.
But since Clay had already taken the lead and with his father's connections with Lei, it was all but certain that Clay would stand out among the recruits and secure the coveted foreign aid role for Team B.
It was essentially set in stone.
Unfortunately...
It was still a bit too early to celebrate, as there was still one recruit left—number 27—who had been waiting so long he was nearly asleep.
"Number 27, it's your turn."
Hearing his call from the door, Long Zhan, who had been nearly asleep while resting his eyes, opened them and looked around the waiting area.
He saw that it had grown mostly empty, with only him left as the final recruit.
"Ah, finally, it's my turn."
Long Zhan stretched lazily, yawning, and shifted his aching backside before leaving the waiting area and walking toward the training room.
With over 20 recruits, each taking a few minutes, it had taken nearly two hours to get to him.
That was quite a long time!
The instructor who called him was left speechless, seeing that Long Zhan showed no sign of nervousness, in fact, he looked so relaxed, as though he had just taken a nap in the waiting area.
He couldn't understand Long Zhan's mindset and could only humorously self-deprecate, "No wonder you're the only monster among this year's recruits. Unlike me back in my day, I was so nervous I didn't even dare go to the bathroom."
All recruits took the same assessment, and the scene was reset to the first scenario.
When Long Zhan entered the assessment area and saw the spacious venue, he immediately guessed what the assessment would entail. He confidently looked up at the suspended corridor above.
Facing the gaze of those above, he smiled and raised his right index finger.
This was his signature move.
Wild, yet full of deep-rooted confidence.
Jason, Lei, Malcolm, Adam, and others in the suspended corridor knew exactly what the gesture meant, and they couldn't help but laugh.
In their day, they had been the strongest of the new recruits, never giving anyone else a second thought. But time had passed, and no matter how strong they were, they couldn't stop the years from taking their toll.
They had turned into relics of the past, fathers to teenagers, and instructors relegated to second-line roles.
Now, seeing Long Zhan's bold entrance, they couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia, as if they were seeing a younger version of themselves. Back in the day, they had been just as cocky as Long Zhan.
This shared sense of resonance made them feel a special connection to Long Zhan.
When the familiar black hood dropped from above and enveloped Long Zhan, who was already in position, the group on the suspended walkway could no longer hold back and began discussing him.
Long Zhan's wildly confident entrance, his abnormal physical abilities displayed during the first phase of training, his jaw-dropping tactics in the S&T courses, and his always confident and composed demeanor—all became hot topics.
Amid this buzzing discussion, the leaders grew even more curious about how Long Zhan would perform in this round of assessment.
Some were excited, others worried.
Behind one of the side doors, a muscular black man, waiting for his turn, peered through the crack and saw Long Zhan already positioned in the assessment area. His heart began to race in agony.
His facial features twisted in distress!
If Long Zhan had been there, he would have recognized this old acquaintance immediately and would have cheerfully said, "Heh, buddy, looks like we meet again."