Aiton: What's the daily rest time?

Seventh Ju: 9 PM to 5 AM the next day.

Aiton: And the free activity time within that?

Seventh Ju: The first hour of rest time.

Aiton: ...Alright. Next.

The test proceeded as a Q&A. The black-haired deputy officer seemed to pick a few random questions and wrapped it up quickly. Just as promised, it was easy and simple. Soon, everyone finished—no one was eliminated. All passed.

Phew, my backup plan worked. Otherwise, being the only one cut would’ve been so embarrassing! Guess I owe that Seasonal Wolf a thanks later.

Aiton: Sir Preman, it’s over.

Preman: Very good. Everyone, this way.

They followed the blond officer Preman outside the tent to an open clearing. The sky had darkened, but the area glowed brightly. Powerful spotlight-like lamps shone from multiple directions, flooding the space with midday intensity. Unlike flickering streetlights, this steady glow—electric lights? Armies often get new tech first. Had this world’s military already adopted them? I’d need to note such details to gauge their civilization level.

Preman: Everyone, form two lines with equal numbers.

The crowd moved quickly, lining up.

Preman: Excellent. Look to my right.

All eyes turned. In a dim corner, ten half-meter-tall aqua-blue crates sat scattered. Twenty meters away, an animal-drawn flatbed cart waited.

Preman: Per recruitment protocol, the final step is a fitness test. Even clerical roles in the Pioneer Team require walking long distances. This stamina is essential. See those ten crates? Each weighs as much as an adult. First team, move all ten onto that cart to pass. Second team, return them to their spots. Teams alternate. Standard time is four minutes... but I know you’ve waited long and eaten nothing. So, leeway: first team gets eight minutes, second team ten.

Preman: One more thing. One crate weighs triple the others. Don’t worry—it has small wheels. You can drag it if needed. But the ground’s uneven. Be careful not to damage the cargo.

Preman: Begin, Aiton.

Aiton: Yes, sir.

Deputy Officer Aiton stepped forward, signaling the first tester.

Hmm... a fitness test. I’d packed dried rations for dinner, but I had zero confidence. To prioritize reading, I’d neglected exercise. Assuming 70 kg per crate, moving a few short distances wasn’t hard—but fatigue built up. Worse, the extra-heavy crate likely weighed over 200 kg. Even with a ramp on the cart, pushing it up a 30- to 45-degree slope would be brutal. This test was way tougher than the oral exam! And damn it, why had I joined the second team? Lifting crates down from a half-meter-high cart was harder than loading them up. The extra two minutes couldn’t compensate. If the triple-weight crate slipped while sliding down, it’d shatter—game over. This job was slipping away...

Aiton: Time’s up.

Seventh Ju: ——!

The first tester lay on the ground, hugging a crate, gasping.

Middle-aged, lean passerby: No... this isn’t fair... last test wasn’t this intense... And... I skipped dinner... unfair...

Aiton: My apologies, sir. Rest in the tent. Sir Preman will still host you tonight.

Middle-aged, lean passerby: Damn it...

An experienced applicant failed the easier first team. My hopes dimmed. Should I quit? No—even on impossible problems, I couldn’t submit a blank paper. Filling the test was basic professionalism! I’d grab the heaviest crate first, pretend to struggle, then quit. Less humiliating that way...

As I thought this, the test sped up.

Jeering applicant: Move it! Don’t stroll like a girl!

Jeering applicant: Haha! His legs are shaking—look at them tremble!

Jeering applicant: Yo! Carrying two? Careful you don’t eat dirt!

Jeering applicant: Awesome! Big bro’s a beast! Under four minutes!

Seventh Ju: ............

Seriously? This mocking vibe? They’d roast me alive next.

Aiton: Next.

Black-haired Seasonal Wolf: Hmm.

Oh—it was that Seasonal Wolf. He’d also joined the second team. The area quieted. All watched the non-human giant. He approached the cart, examined the crates, then effortlessly lifted one and stacked it on another.

Jeering applicant: Ooooh—!

Jeering applicant: Three in one hand? Six at once!?

Jeering applicant: Show-offs get struck by lightning!

Jeering applicant: Drop it! Drop it! Drop it—!

Jeering applicant: Fall! Fall! Fall—!

The calm shattered. Some clapped off-rhythm. Amid boos, the Seasonal Wolf strolled leisurely, carrying six crates steadily. His muscular arms bulged; veins pulsed visibly under human-like skin. Not a tremor.

Jeering applicant: Awooo—He did it!!!

Jeering applicant: With that build, if he fails, we’re all doomed!!

Boos turned to cheers and applause.

These guys... I’d thought it was racism. They just craved chaos! His second trip was easy: three regular crates in one hand, the triple-weight one in the other. Passed without effort.

Ah, being a strong non-human was convenient. Labor meant nothing.

Aiton: Next. Your turn.

Seventh Ju: Huh? Oh...

I’d gotten lost in watching, forgetting my own humiliation. I walked blankly to the cart, searching for the wheeled crate.

Jeering applicant: Soft-skinned kid—been weaned yet?

Ugh, jeering before I even started. I found the wheeled crate, gripped its base, and prepared to fake failure. Should I overexert and fall backward? Or collapse on it after僵持? Either way, laughter awaited. I smirked self-deprecatingly, then slightly—

Seventh Ju: ............

Seventh Ju: Huh??

The crate tilted upward easily.

Preman: ...!

Black-haired Seasonal Wolf: ...?

I hadn’t strained—just wedged my fingers under it. This weight felt less like three adults, more like an empty plastic box. What? I recalled scraping ceiling plaster with my face, seeing dense muscle clusters on my body. I never wanted to remember that... but was this lightness a side effect of my Wish Power? No—if exposed, it’d be deadlier than revealing my true identity! I yanked my hands back.

Jeering applicant: Haha! Hand got pinched!

Jeering applicant: Can’t handle it? Go home! This ain’t a playground!

I turned, flashing an awkward smile at the crowd. They were forcing my hand. Fine... start with a regular crate. I lifted one—hugging it with effort—but it felt identical to the heavy one. Mimicking others’ pace, I walked over.

Jeering applicant: Faster, kid!

Jeering applicant: Move it! Come on!

If I sprinted now, they’d be speechless. I “struggled” to place the crate, then jogged back for another.

Preman: —That’s enough.

Seventh Ju: ...?

Jeering applicant: Huh??

The silent blond officer Preman spoke, silencing the jeers instantly.

Preman: You pass. Aiton, next.

Aiton: Yes, sir.

Seventh Ju: ...Huh?

Deputy Officer Aiton reset the crates effortlessly.

Aiton: Step down. Next!

Seventh Ju: Oh...

Confusing, but passing was good... right?

Jeering applicant: ............

Jeering applicant: Special treatment! Open favoritism!

Jeering applicant: A Sincere Kingdom commander rigging tests! For a grunt job!?

Preman: Shut up, blind fool!

Jeering applicant: ............!

The calm, kind officer finally glared fiercely. Silence fell. No jeers sounded until all tests ended.