As time passed, more and more people filled the room.
Eventually, a staff member entered and announced, "Looks like we've got quite a crowd this year, and a lot of unfamiliar faces too."
He swept his gaze across the room, then looked at the elderly man and said with a chuckle, "Hey, there's an old face! Mr. Otis, didn't we just see each other last month?"
The staffer's light-hearted teasing eased much of the tension in the room.
"The first candidate, Joy Chloé."
Whether it was a random selection or an intentional gesture from the Breeder Association, Miss Joy ended up being the first to take the test.
"Yes!"
Though she appeared slightly nervous, she still lifted her skirt hem gracefully and walked into the assessment room with elegance.
"Haha, no need to be nervous," the staff reassured her, "you almost passed last time. With your knowledge, you'll be fine."
Once she left the room, silence returned, wrapping the air in stiffness. It was so quiet, the sound of each person's breath could be heard crystal clear.
Before long, Miss Joy returned, smiling brightly, clearly in high spirits.
"Looks like she passed," Sieg thought to himself.
Since candidates weren't allowed to leave until everyone had finished, she quietly returned to her seat to wait for the rest to finish. This time, though, she seemed far more relaxed, even carrying a trace of pride in her expression.
"Hehe, Mr. Otis, you're up next," the staff called with a smile.
After all, the old man was a regular here, showing up to take the assessment nearly every month.
It wasn't long before he came out again, face covered in dust and looking a bit defeated. But he adjusted quickly, shaking it off. After so many failed attempts, he had probably long prepared himself mentally.
For someone who'd lived eighty years, his mental fortitude was certainly nothing to scoff at.
Soon after, the arrogant-looking young man entered. Sieg remembered him vaguely as one of the earliest arrivals in the room.
"Sir Otis," Sieg asked in a low voice, "do you know who that guy is? He seems to be looking down on the rest of us."
"Hehe, him?" the old man chuckled. "Word is, he's the grandson of some mid-level Breeder. He's got a bit of talent, and at just twenty-two, nearly passed the exam last year."
He paused, then added with a slight sigh, "But I've also heard he's a bit arrogant, doesn't like associating with others. That's just how the Breeder clans are, always looking down on outsiders."
Sieg nodded thoughtfully. So the guy had a mid-level Breeder as his backing. In the Association, high-level Breeders were often the ones appointed as regional chairmen, and in cities like Rustboro, most branch leaders were at least mid-rank.
"But still, he hasn't become a certified Breeder yet. What's there to be so arrogant about?" Sieg frowned. He had no fondness for people who couldn't even be bothered to fake civility.
The exam continued. In the span of half an hour, several more candidates went in and came back out.
Judging by the grim looks on their faces, it was clear most had failed. A shadow of doubt began to loom in the hearts of those still waiting.
"Next, Trainer Sieg."
Upon hearing his name, Sieg stood up immediately.
All eyes turned toward him. After all, he was clearly the youngest person in the room. Most just glanced at him briefly before turning away, already having come to their own conclusions.
Too young. He's definitely going to fail.
"Hehe, good luck, Youngster!" Otis called out with a cheerful grin.
Sieg walked toward the exam room. As he passed by the arrogant man, he caught him shooting him a scornful look.
Of course Sieg knew the reason behind that glare.
It was just frustration, plain and simple. Everyone had thought he would succeed this time. He had nearly passed last year, and with his background, many assumed this year would be his moment.
But instead, he failed again.
Now, he sat in the corner like a human ice sculpture, his expression cold and fierce, a chilling aura keeping everyone at bay.
The reason that man cast such a scornful look at Sieg was simple, really. Sieg was younger than him, yet somehow still had a chance to pass the exam? How absurd.
Sieg didn't bother to argue or engage. There was no reason to let someone like that ruin his focus right before the test.
"Good day, examiners!"
As Sieg stepped into the room, the sight of three examiners greeted him, two middle-aged men and one elderly gentleman with a full head of white hair.
The elderly man was clearly the chief examiner.
"Sieg, correct? I'm Oswald, the chief examiner for this month's examination," he said sternly. "These two beside me are registered Junior Breeders with the Breeder Association. The three of us will be overseeing your entire assessment."
"Greetings, Mr. Oswald. Greetings, seniors," Sieg responded with a respectful bow.
"You're still quite young, Sieg," said the examiner on the left with a more relaxed tone, "so if you fail today's test, don't let it weigh too heavily on your heart. There'll be many more chances in the future. We'll begin with a few simple questions. Please, take a seat."
Every year, in various regions, a few candidates would collapse under the weight of failure, some even taking their own lives. The Rustboro Breeder Association did not want that happening on their watch.
Sieg obediently sat down, not showing the slightest sign of stage fright. His eyes remained fixed forward, full of focus.
"First question: For Beautifly and Venomoth, how many grams of Silver Powder can be collected from their bodies?"
Silver Powder was a held item known to enhance Bug-type moves.
Sieg lowered his head, contemplating briefly before answering, "That depends on the individual Pokémon. If we're taking level 30 specimens as a standard, you can extract approximately three grams from a Beautifly and two grams from a Venomoth. Of course, depending on the individual characteristics, there may be slight variations…"
The examiners exchanged a quick glance and nodded in satisfaction, but quickly followed up with a deeper question.
"Then do you know why the Silver Powder obtained from Venomoth is generally less than that from a Beautifly?"
Sieg paused, then lifted his head and replied calmly.
"This is because Venomoth is a Poison-type. Silver Powder extracted from it requires special treatment to remove the toxins within. That process inevitably causes some loss during purification…"
Back and forth the questions went. Sieg answered several in succession, even some niche questions that clearly weren't part of any common curriculum.
Some of them he answered smoothly. Others, he simply didn't know.
After all, he had only been studying for a year. Compared to others who had studied for years, or even over a decade, his knowledge base was still shallow.
Even so, his responses impressed the three examiners. To be just seventeen and already this capable, it was undeniably rare.
Last year, the League reported that the average age for passing the Breeder assessment was thirty-one.
"Well done," the examiner on the right said. "Your answers were very good. We'll score you based on your recorded footage."
He gestured toward the camera sitting quietly in the corner.
"Now, Pokéblock crafting is an essential skill for any Breeder. Please proceed to make a basic Pokéblock. Use the recipe you are most familiar with and give it your best effort," the elderly chief examiner instructed, pointing to the Pokéblock machine in the corner.
Sieg stood and walked over to inspect the equipment. There were many different models available, even the newest model produced by the Devon Corporation.
He chose the one he was most comfortable with and returned to the table.
"Examiners, I will need one black Apricorn, a Swellow feather, a Slakoth hair sample, and a Blackring flower."
Sieg was preparing to craft a Pokéblock that enhanced the physical attributes of Normal-type Pokémon.
The examiners nodded approvingly and ordered the staff to retrieve the materials from the Guild's storage.
It wasn't long before all the required ingredients were neatly arranged on the table before him.