We both glared at each other intensely. He had a stubborn look in his eyes, and frankly, my patience was wearing thin. This whole situation was ridiculous; they asked me to spar, then interrupted and attacked me out of nowhere.
"Look at what you did," he said, gesturing to the hero on the ground.
But I didn't dare look away; I wouldn't give him the opportunity to attack while I was distracted. My refusal to look seemed to anger him more, and a bulging vein began to form on his forehead. In frustration, he ripped the golden mask off my face and tossed it to the ground.
"Tyrozan, let him go!" the man in the suit called out to him, but it was to no avail. "If you lay a hand on a single hair on that child's head, your career is over."
Tyrozan turned to look at the man, his neck wide open. With a single swing, this troublesome situation could be over. I had the Blade of Calamity ready to end his tantrum. But just then…
"Ugh, dammit, that little bastard broke my nose!"
A pained moan came from below. The hero I had been sparring with got to his feet, his face bloodied as blood poured from his disfigured nose. It seemed my last attack had broken his nose. He looked unsightly, covered in his own blood and vomit. His legs wobbled as if he could collapse at any moment. He turned his attention to us.
"Let him go, Tyrozan. The kid did nothing wrong."
"Bullshit! I saw everything. He almost took your head off with that first swing!" His eyes drifted back to me. "That's my brother you almost killed, you no good piece of trash!"
"Tyrozan! Let him go; I was the one who let my guard down," the injured hero said, putting on a sincere smile.
Tyrozan's grip loosen until he released me completely. He then went over to his brother and had him lean on his shoulder.
"The two of you may leave; I don't think I'll need your services any further," the man in the suit instructed.
"Don't have to tell us twice," Tyrozan hissed before leaving.
After they were gone, the man in the suit turned his attention to me.
"Morningstar, if I'm not mistaken, I don't remember any noble families by that name."
I bent down to pick up my mask. "That's because I'm not nobility."
"Thought so." He then walked over to me and stretched out a piece of paper. "Here, take this."
I hesitated and didn't reach for it.
"Relax, it's just my business card. I'm here on behalf of my agency to find future recruits."
I took the card from him; on it read:
'Name: Demetri Steins
Job Title: Recruiter
Company Name: Feng Wang's Hero Agency'
"Honestly, we were mostly looking at noble families and a select few others because they are the ones with the most potential. But you… your system might not be worth a damn, but you are interesting, to say the least."
What? I didn't catch half of what he said, but I heard the part about my system loud and clear.
"What do you mean my system isn't worth a damn?"
"Well… you know, it's a parlor trick, to say the least." I stared at him intently, a single thought crossing my mind. "I mean, so what, you can create a fancy knife? In this school of monsters, that is nothing. What I'm interested in is you as a person. Not many people would be bold enough to pull off what you just did."
"I only did what I had to in order to get out of a difficult situation."
This suit significantly lowers my speed. If things had continued as the hero intended, I would have run out of stamina quickly. The suit had excellent defense, but its only flaw was its weight.
"Let me give you a warning before you even attempt this exam: this batch of incoming students is some of the most talented we've ever seen. You saw the men in suits, right? All of them are from some of the most powerful hero agencies in the nation. Bottom line is, think before you get into a confrontation with anyone."
"With that being said, it's time for you to tell me your chosen hero name so we can wrap things up."
"Huh? Won't you examine my combat suit?"
He shrugged. "It seems fine to me. Anyway, your name?"
I hadn't thought of any hero names. While I was changing into my combat suit, I tried to brainstorm a few, but none of them felt right. So I decided to go with the one I had thought of…
"Mockingbird." The same name as my suit would be my hero name.
"Mockingbird? Alright then. One more thing, and we're all set."
He went over to his desk, then came back holding a watch. He tweaked it for a couple of minutes before handing it to me.
"This watch will monitor your vitals, and it also holds key information. You'll need it during the entrance exam."
I attached the watch to my wrist, and immediately a golden screen appeared displaying the words 'Mockingbird.' On the screen was a single tab marked 'Health.' I clicked on it to see a green smiling face emoji.
"As your vitals decrease, the emoji will slowly turn red."
With everything now concluded, I put on my mask and left the room, heading back to the auditorium to take a seat until everyone else finished their screening.
In about an hour, the auditorium was nearly back to the same capacity as before, and the principal entered the stage again.
"Welcome back, everyone. Now that you've finished your screening, it's time to commence with the examination." The same holographic screen appeared behind him again, displaying a picture of an island with the label 'Purgatory' above it.
"This is Purgatory, and it is where you'll conduct your entrance exam. Contrary to how it looks, it is a dungeon. You'll be tasked with surviving there for six days. It is filled with otherworldly monsters, so it's safe to say that this place is dangerous. The watches you've been given monitor your vitals, so if you're injured, you'll be eliminated and brought back."
"You'll also receive supplies on three separate days; you'll be able to track them with your watches." The principal gave a cunning smile before continuing. "I can't say for certain that the supplies will be enough for everyone, so… you're on your own. Finally, the order in which you will enter through the gate will be indicated on your watches."
Immediately, the sound of pings echoed through the auditorium. I glanced down at my watch to see what number I had received. The gold-colored interface lit up.
"Congratulations, Mockingbird! You are candidate number 1."
"In total there 500 of you," the principal continued, "only 200 of you will be accepted into our academy. I wish all of you the best of luck."