The testing hall at Northview High pulsed with chaos, a cacophony of voices echoing off the concrete walls as recruiters swarmed David.
The air was thick with the scent of ink and anticipation, pens scratching frantically as offers piled up, each academy vying for the prodigy who'd stunned them all.
David stood at the center, his face calm, a faint smile playing on his lips, his heart alight with the weight of his triumph.
The machines' hum had faded, but their verdict—298kg and 368kg punches, 7.6 punches per second, a neural response of 0.064/m—still reverberated, marking him as a near-genius, a third-level Warrior with fourth-level reflexes, not yet seventeen.
"Student David Holt, Blue Horizon Academy wants you!" a recruiter shouted, thrusting a tablet forward. "Five-year contract, advanced student pay, monthly salary top-tier!"
"Come to Galeheart!" another cut in, voice urgent. "We'll match Blue Horizon's terms, plus we'll secure jobs for your family—full base city living benefits!"
"We'll throw in housing!" a Skyforge representative added, eyes gleaming.
"A two-story villa in West District, yours free, single-family, prime location!"
Ironclad Academy's recruiter, voice booming, drowned them out.
"Enough! Ironclad's taking him. Special training at headquarters, free Warrior-level coaching, and a 9.5% discount on all academy gear—none of you can match that!"
The recruiters, usually poised and calculating, had become a marketplace of desperate vendors, their offers spilling like coins at David's feet.
His performance was a revelation: fist strength and speed at third-level Warrior standards, neural response touching fourth-level, a rare gift that promised survival against mutant beasts.
At his age, he was a seed of greatness, a potential God of War in a city starved for heroes. Northview, a modest school, had birthed a talent that rivaled the prodigies of Frosthaven's elite First, Second, and Third Highs.
David's calm, however, was unshaken.
In his past life, he'd joined Blue Horizon, a mid-tier academy, and lived a respectable but unremarkable life.
Now, reborn, he knew the game—knew the academies' desperation, their bonuses tied to talents like him.
He stood firm, waiting for the offer that would match his ambition.
Alex, seated beside Apex Academy's Liam, seethed, his knuckles white.
Liam, who'd promised to sabotage David, was now on his phone, voice low, discussing a contract for David, Alex's grudge forgotten in the face of profit.
Alex's jaw tightened, jealousy burning as his plan unraveled, his own Apex signing paling beside David's spotlight.
Nathan, Storm Academy's representative, approached, Philip at his side, winking at David.
Nathan's presence silenced the crowd, his authority as Frosthaven's top academy undeniable.
"David," he said, voice clear, "Storm Academy offers you a second-class student contract, three years. We believe you'll outgrow it by then. We'll secure jobs and living for your family, plus a three-story villa in West District—top security, no worries for your parents."
Philip, grinning, jumped in. "David, join Storm! It's the best in the northern region. We'll stay brothers, hunt beasts together, carve our names in the wilds!"
David's heart warmed, Philip's loyalty a tether to his past and future. He sighed, a decision crystallizing. "I'll go with Storm."
The room deflated, recruiters lowering their tablets, Storm's offer untouchable. A three-story villa, a second-class contract—Storm's wealth and prestige dwarfed the rest. Only Liam, fresh off his call, tried one last gambit. "David, Apex can match Storm's terms—better, even!"
David glanced at Apex, his eyes landing on Alex, then shook his head. "I'm with Storm."
"Why?" Liam pressed, brow furrowing. "A fighter maximizes their gain, no?"
David's smile sharpened, and he pointed at Alex, voice steady. "Because I don't like that guy. Break his leg right now, and I'll consider Apex."
Liam froze, mouth open, words failing. The idea was absurd—Apex wouldn't harm its own for a recruit, no matter how talented.
But David's point landed, his refusal rooted in Alex's enmity.
Liam's face darkened, a flicker of regret crossing his features. Had he ignored Alex's grudge, David might've been Apex's prize, his bonus secured. Alex, red-faced, shouted, "Brother Liam, he's just stirring trouble! Don't listen!"
"I'm not an idiot," Liam snapped, voice icy. "Save your noise." He turned and strode out, leaving Alex to stew in his failure.
The hall emptied, recruiters dispersing, the graduation exam complete.
David signed Storm's contract on the spot, its terms binding but generous. He'd follow Storm's core directives, prioritize its interests, and never betray it. In return, he was a second-class student, earning $50,000 monthly—far above Philip's third-class $20,000.
Storm pledged to support his parents, James and Mary, with a $10,000 monthly stipend, enough for a comfortable life without labor, a gift David cherished most.
A one-time bonus, an extra month's salary, saw Nathan hand him $50,000 in cash, plus keys to a three-story West District villa, its deed transferred instantly.
David's benefits extended further. As a second-class student, he'd access Storm's internal network, enjoying a 5% discount on purchases—a fortune over time, given fighters' costly gear.
Higher ranks promised more: first-class students got 9.3%, full fighters 10%.
Storm issued him a tailored uniform, its fabric sleek and durable, and a satellite phone, its signal cutting through Frosthaven's wilds.
Philip received the same matching gear.
Nathan clapped their shoulders, his smile warm. "Come on, boys. Tonight, I'm treating you to drinks. Welcome to Storm Academy—time to see the fighter's world."
Fighters thrived on connections, and Nathan, a veteran, saw potential in David and Philip.
David had planned to rush home, to share his triumph with his parents, but Nathan's offer was a bridge to his new life. He hesitated, then pulled out his phone, dialing home.
James answered, his voice eager. "David, how'd the exam go?"
David glanced at the lingering crowd, wary of boasting. "Don't worry, Dad. I did well. I'll explain when I'm home—might be late."
Nathan, overhearing, laughed. "Late? We're drinking all night, kid. Celebrate big!"
David chuckled, amending, "If it's too late, I'll stay out, back tomorrow morning."
James agreed, and the call ended. At home, James turned to Mary, his face clouded. "He's cagey, like always. Might not have passed. You know he hides the bad news."
Mary nodded, worry creasing her brow. "If he didn't make it, we won't push him when he's back."
"Got it," James said, their hearts heavy, unaware of David's victory.
David pocketed his phone, the villa keys a reassuring weight in his hand.
With Philip and Nathan, he left Northview High, the campus's concrete walls fading behind him. He glanced back, a chapter closing.
His high school life, once a cycle of mediocrity in his past life, ended now with a leap to Storm Academy, the northern region's finest. A new world awaited—a life of beasts, battles, and glory.