Chapter 50: Lights Out, Game On!

“He’s not wrong,” she admitted inwardly. “He’s not out of options yet.”

In two weeks, he could restock Jordan multiple times, his heal ability, and this Guild trial could change everything. She didn’t know how much the Guild invested in it or how much the top ranks would earn, but she knew Bruce wouldn’t give up without a fight.

Still, she couldn’t stop worrying.

She glanced at him again, watching his calm expression, the faint exhaustion in his eyes hidden beneath quiet determination. That same look had always scared her a little. It was the look of someone who had already decided to carry the weight alone.

“You never change,” she muttered finally, smiling faintly.

Bruce tilted his head slightly. “Wouldn’t be me if I did.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Yeah, stubborn as always.”

He smiled just barely, the corner of his mouth twitching.

They sat like that for a few seconds in silence, the noise of the other recruits fading around them.

Sophie’s thoughts, however, were far from still.

’I didn’t think things would turn out this complicated for him,’ she thought, her eyes softening. ’Six million gold coins… damn it, Bruce.’

Her fingers tightened slightly on her lap.

’A few targeted hits could fix that problem easily.’ A faint gleam of cold light flashed across her eyes. ’Should I send assassins after them?’

But as quickly as the thought came, she dismissed it with a slow exhale. Her gaze drifted back to Bruce, who sat quietly beside her, lost in thought.

’No,’ she decided firmly. ’It would implicate him. I don’t want my Bruce to be caught in that kind of mess.’

She sighed inwardly, leaning back slightly. ’I’ll find another way.’

But even as she smiled faintly at him again, the determination in her eyes had sharpened into something else entirely.

She would not let anyone destroy him.

Not his enemies. Not his debt. Not his own pride.

Meanwhile, as Bruce and Sophie sat lost in their own thoughts, the last of the recruits arrived.

The ninety-ninth and one-hundredth.

Both of them looked ordinary, with nervous faces, plain clothes, and nothing special about their presence. The crowd barely spared them a glance.

But the moment the one-hundredth recruit stepped into the hall through the lobby entrance, everything changed.

With a heavy thud, the lobby doors slid shut automatically, sealing the entire hall in an instant.

And then, darkness.

The lights flickered once, twice, before vanishing completely.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned.

Then, from the shadows, a soft azure glow spread across the room—the neon-blue light of the VR pods illuminating the hall like a constellation of stars.

The glow reflected off metallic surfaces and stunned eyes, bathing everyone in ethereal radiance. Gasps filled the air as recruits turned, their faces painted in shades of blue and white, eyes wide in awe.

It was beautiful, otherworldly, like staring into a sea of light.

But before anyone could truly take in the sight, a sudden burst of light formed midair, shimmering and condensing until a holographic figure materialized before them.

The projection displayed the upper half of a man—broad-shouldered, imposing, and radiating an authority that felt almost tangible.

He had a sharp, battle-hardened jawline and a thick white mustache that contrasted with his black hair. A long scar slashed across half his face, the jagged mark of an old beast’s claw. It didn’t lessen his presence; it defined it.

His eyes were keen and alive, sharp enough to make even trained soldiers straighten unconsciously. They held the kind of focus only seen in those who had survived countless life-and-death battles.

Since this hologram was projected larger than life, every line of his face was visible, every scar perfectly clear. Unlike the small projection that had flickered from Lucen’s wrist earlier, this one dominated the space, commanding attention without effort.

The man’s gaze swept across the recruits like a blade. He said nothing for a few seconds, his silence heavier than words.

Then his eyes landed on Bruce.

He lingered there.

Despite the abrupt blackout, the sudden hologram, and the oppressive aura radiating from the man, Bruce remained calm and unmoved. His posture didn’t shift. His breathing was steady.

Sir Bale, because that was who it was, narrowed his eyes slightly. For a split second, the corner of his lips curved into the faintest of nods.

“As expected of a prodigy like him,” he thought.

Beside Bruce, Sophie sat equally composed, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Yet Bale’s gaze didn’t shift toward her, whether by choice or deliberate dismissal. His attention remained fixed on Bruce alone.

A few recruits swallowed nervously. The tension was palpable, wrapping around the room like invisible chains.

Then the hologram moved.

The man’s lips parted, and his deep, coarse voice rolled through the hall, cold, steady, and commanding.

“Quickly get into those pods,” he ordered. “I don’t have time to waste.”

His words carried the weight of authority, absolute and unquestionable.

No one dared hesitate.

Within seconds, the recruits sprang into motion. Chairs clattered, footsteps echoed, and the hall filled with the rustle of movement as everyone rushed to the nearest pod.

Bruce turned just in time to see Sophie entering hers. Before the tinted glass door closed, she looked back and gave him a small smile and a nod; a quiet gesture of reassurance.

He caught it, lips curving slightly before exhaling.

The neon light washed over her as the pod sealed shut, the reflection casting her face in soft blue. Then she disappeared from view.

Bruce stepped toward his own pod.

The closer he got, the louder the faint hum of mana circuits became, vibrating through the metallic floor.

He placed a hand on the smooth surface of the pod. It was cool to the touch, almost alive. Then he climbed inside.

The interior was sleek and perfectly contoured. Dim blue lines traced along its walls, pulsing faintly like veins channeling energy.

He could hear the low thrum of machinery beneath him, steady and precise. The cushioned interior molded gently to his body, adapting until it fit him perfectly.

He lay back, feeling the faint vibration through the seat. For the first time, his heartbeat quickened—not from fear, but from anticipation.

’So this is it.’

Just as he began to relax, a faint beep echoed, and a translucent holographic screen blinked to life right before his eyes.

***

AN:

Your Power Stones and Golden Tickets are what keep this story alive. They motivate and inspire me to write more each day.

An unmotivated author only ends up writing trash. So please, support if you’re enjoying the story!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep