18.
I won.
And I did it perfectly: 30 wins, 0 draws, and 0 losses.
The proctors and staff, having tasted the bitterness of defeat at the hands of a mere child, were initially baffled. But as my streak lengthened, they became intrigued. Soon, a line formed. People waited for their turn to challenge me, eventually resorting to writing their moves on paper in advance, desperate to determine if I was some kind of Abilitator with clairvoyance or merely possessed advanced spatial awareness.
“It is truly said that the closer the future, the higher the accuracy rate…”
They sighed, gracefully accepting their defeat as they scribbled notes onto their evaluation forms.
“The ability assessment is complete. Please follow the guide to the next exam.”
“Thank you.”
As I turned to leave the testing hall, the proctor caught my eye. His expression was heavy with meaning, his tone vibrating with an excitement he couldn’t quite contain.
“Next time, we shall see each other at Papiope.”
Even if I were to fail the remaining two exams, I realized with certainty that I was already being funneled toward the talent development center. I played the part, offering a polite, childish bow before exiting the first hall.
A guide was waiting for me the moment I stepped out.
“Tania-nim, please proceed to the second testing hall.”
“Yes.”
I knew the schedule would be relentless, but I couldn’t help but pity the others who had to endure this grueling succession of tests. Though, I suspected that was exactly what the center intended.
The guide led me forward, their voice stiff and strictly professional.
“You cannot use your ability inside the exam hall; you must rely solely on your own judgment. The exam begins the moment you enter, and your time will be recorded.”
“Yes.”
Having run this exam multiple times to explain the contents to the twins, I placed my hand on the doorknob without a flicker of hesitation.
[The current timeline is being overwritten onto Timeline 2.]
As I pushed the door open, a massive maze yawned before me.
It should have been a plain, empty room. This was clearly the work of illusion magic—or an ability designed to project it.
*Creeeak—!*
*Thud.*
The guide closed the door behind me without a shred of mercy, leaving me in the pitch-black heart of the labyrinth. I knew that, in reality, I was likely standing perfectly still in a small room. An oil lamp and a wooden sword lay waiting, a subtle suggestion to arm myself.
I grabbed only the lamp and bolted.
My goal was clear: clear every exam with a record-breaking time to ensure my reputation reached the ears of the Duke of Papiope.
Left, right, right, left, right…
I sprinted through the path I had memorized. Suddenly, a monster lunged from a space that had been empty a heartbeat before.
*Kreeeeee-!*
Gate 1: Random monster spawn.
This one was covered in pustules, spewing toxic gas from every pore. Fortunately, it was a textbook threat. The gas was highly volatile.
I didn’t slow down. As I whipped around the next corner, I hurled the oil lamp backward.
*BOOM—!*
The heat scorched my back; if I had been a second slower, I would have been caught in the blast.
“Well, at least I’m in one piece.”
With the roar of the explosion as my soundtrack, I continued my rhythmic *tap-tap-tap*. I didn’t have time to waste on small fry.
*Tap-tap-tap—!*
Inside the shifting maze, I pushed forward, my path unfaltering. Without the lantern, the darkness was absolute, but my pace quickened. The weight of the lamp had been a nuisance, anyway.
How much time had passed?
I had been alone, but then, a second set of footsteps joined mine. Gate 2 had begun.
The presence pulled level with me, keeping pace perfectly.
“Hello?”
A voice identical to my own chilled the air.
A doppelgänger. A creature that mimics its prey, kills them, and usurps their life.
I kept running, not sparing it a glance.
“Oh, hi.”
“……W-what? Are you an idiot? Someone who wasn’t there a moment ago has appeared—why aren’t you surprised?”
“Could you shut up? You’re making me lose my lefts and rights.”
I was on a time attack. The doppelgänger sounded genuinely affronted.
“A-are you even looking at my face while you’re talking?!”
“Do I have to?”
“If I tell you to look, look!”
Too annoyed to argue, I whipped my head around. It was my face, down to the last detail.
“Yeah, you’re pretty. But you have a chili flake stuck in your teeth.”
“What? Where?”
Startled, it scrambled to touch its own mouth.
*Even monsters fall for cheap tricks,* I thought with a shrug.
The countermeasure for a doppelgänger was simple yet taxing: Do not feel fear. They grew stronger based on the terror of their target. If you weren’t intimidated, you were effectively untouchable. While the manual suggested fighting it off with the wooden sword, I didn’t have to. It didn’t have the leverage to hurt me.
People who survive endless brushes with death eventually split into two camps: those crippled by trauma, and those who go numb. I was the latter.
*So what if you kill me?* I’d just wake up again.
The doppelgänger, stung by my indifference, began to chatter incessantly.
“Aren’t you afraid? We’re exactly the same! Huh? I’m going to kill you and take your place! Still not scared?”
“I feel like I’m going to die just from the sheer volume of your questions.”
How many question marks can one fit into a single sentence? It was distracting. Finally, I stopped running. The doppelgänger giggled, delighted.
“What? Scared now that you’re cornered in a dead end?”
“No.”
It wasn’t a dead end. I pointed quietly to the door in front of me. I had reached the exit.
The creature’s face contorted as it realized its role was over.
“……You’re a strange human!”
Ignoring its ranting, I turned the handle and stepped through. The silence of the next room was a blessed relief.
The final gate, Gate 3.
Reaching this point meant the exam was effectively won. As I entered, two glass-fronted boxes appeared before me. In one, a pregnant rabbit; in the other, five sick, elderly ones. Two ropes lay on the floor, trailing toward a massive water tank.
The Trolley Problem. A classic test of the “few versus the many.”
I had faced this before. I usually chose the most efficient path, but the exam was designed to be malicious. If I chose to sacrifice the pregnant rabbit, the voice would whisper, *‘What if she’s carrying five babies?’* If I chose the sick rabbits, it would pivot to, *‘What if there aren’t five, but fifty?’*
It was a rigged game designed to force a feeling of guilt, no matter the choice.
So, I decided to break the game.
*Thump!*
I sprawled flat on the floor, looking up at the empty air where the disembodied voice had taunted me before.
“I won’t choose.”