episode_0020

“Wow~ I’ve never seen such a huge machine before.”

Ume muttered in a bright voice as she stepped into the aptitude testing room.

I silently agreed with her opinion.

The design, which made it seem as though the entire room was composed of engineering facilities, was more than enough to capture the attention of the students, including me.

It was fascinating even when I saw it in the game, but seeing it in person is even more amazing.

“Everyone, pay attention.”

Aileen’s single command gathered the scattered students’ focus.

Instantly, the murmuring among the students ceased, as if the surroundings had turned into a vacuum.

“The erosion phenomenon has caused countless casualties, but paradoxically, as its supply expanded, the world’s technological capabilities advanced further. Does anyone here know what I’m referring to?”

I know what that is.

It’s a question anyone could answer if they’ve been keeping up with the In-Sik’s story.

The answer is magic stones.

But I didn’t raise my hand to draw attention.

I should leave the opportunity for the budding sprouts to shine.

“Me! Magic stones! The emergence of magic stones pioneered the field of magic stone engineering!”

Xiaolin raised her hand energetically and answered brightly.

“Yes. Correct. Magic stones are substances that rarely form in places where magical energy is densely concentrated, such as ancient dungeons or dragon nests. For a magic stone to stabilize, the arrangement of magical energy within it must be perfectly uniform, which is why they were extremely scarce. Naturally, commercialization was out of the question. But.”

Aileen lightly swept her hair back and continued.

“The erosion phenomenon changed everything. Large quantities of magic stones began to be mined from the backworld and erosion zones. Naturally, magic stones started being utilized in various fields. For example, in firearms—and in the production of this aptitude tester.”

Aileen walked toward the machine, which resembled a large crystal sphere.

“Every time we test one of your aptitudes, ten intermediate-grade magic stones turn into ordinary rocks. However, the accuracy of this device is exceptional. It has never once produced an error. So, you can trust it.”

A single intermediate-grade magic stone is typically worth hundreds of thousands of Mihan.

Meaning, testing just one person’s aptitude costs millions of Mihan.

Considering there are hundreds of new students…

Well, better not think about it.

“When I call your name, place your hand on the crystal sphere and channel your magical energy. Students who aren’t being tested must refrain from any magical activity, as it may interfere. Serena Eldraine, step forward.”

“Ahaha… I really hate being in the spotlight.”

Serena let out a small sigh and trudged toward the crystal sphere.

“Wait.”

Just as Serena swayed slightly and reached out to place her hand on the sphere, Aileen stopped her.

“Let me make this clear—if anyone dislikes the results and deliberately leaks their magical energy, it won’t end well. I’m monitoring all magical flows in this space.”

I won’t let any nonsense slide.

At Aileen’s warning, a few students flinched slightly.

When I glanced around, some of them were the same students who had been glaring at me earlier.

“Eldraine. Channel your energy.”

Serena gave a small nod and placed her hand on the crystal sphere.

The translucent sphere gradually began to glow with her magical energy.

“Huff… My arm’s starting to go numb… How much longer do I have to do this?”

“Just a little more. That’s enough. You can stop now.”

“Whew, that was close to death.”

Serena rubbed her right arm lightly and returned to the group.

—Whirrr…

A low mechanical hum echoed through the testing room, and soon, an image appeared on the screen at the front.

A picture of countless red lines, each one severed.

As someone who hasn’t fully grasped Serena’s true abilities, I couldn’t easily interpret it.

“……”

For just a fleeting moment, I caught a glimpse of Serena’s usually relaxed expression twisting.

Does she herself have some idea of what this means?

“…An uncommon case. Usually, the aptitude tester displays results in text form, but occasionally, in exceptional cases, it metaphorically represents them as images like this. This mostly happens when one’s aptitude isn’t limited to a single field.”

In other words, if someone’s aptitude was simply for origami, it would appear as text.

But if it’s for dexterity, it would appear as an image.

Dexterity is a versatile aptitude, not confined to just one field.

For reference, Karen’s screen showed an image of raging flames.

“Students like Eldraine, whose aptitudes are expressed as images, often show remarkable growth. Of course, only if they put in the effort.”

“I’ll do my best to put in a decent amount of effort.”

Serena brushed off Aileen’s words with a careless nod.

“Next, Cecil Adelia.”

The aptitude tests progressed faster than I expected.

Though the students could’ve buzzed about each other’s results, it seemed they weren’t yet comfortable with Aileen’s presence—everyone kept their mouths shut and waited for their turn.

Even the usually talkative Xiaolin remained quiet. That says it all.

Xiaolin and Ume’s tests proceeded without issue.

True to her claim of majoring in magic, Xiaolin had an aptitude for spell computation.

It wasn’t some groundbreakingly unique aptitude, but that didn’t mean hers was bad.

Being able to compute spells quickly means reducing the delay in casting magic.

For a mage, reducing casting time is a matter of life and death.

Ume’s result… was a bit unusual.

The screen simply displayed the word “Endurance.”

A truly ambiguous result.

Since it was in text, it likely meant her aptitude was confined to one field.

Probably something like a talent for enduring pain.

Given how casually she recounted the events of this morning’s commute, it made sense.

As I pondered this, only four students remained—including me.

“Next. Park Jeonghyeon.”

Finally, my name was called.

I took a small breath and trudged toward the crystal sphere.

Aileen, who had been watching me briefly, gave a small nod.

“You may begin.”

She signaled permission.

I slowly placed my hand on the sphere and carefully channeled my magical energy.

What kind of result awaits me?

I expected something like “infinite aptitude” or the like.

Given the potential of my personality rental, it wouldn’t be surprising.

Of course, it’s also possible I’d be greeted by a completely unexpected aptitude.

Whatever it is, all I have to do is hone it relentlessly.

“That’s enough.”

At Aileen’s brief command, I removed my hand from the sphere and returned to my spot.

I swallowed hard and stared at the screen.

About 20 seconds had passed since I stepped back, but the screen remained unchanged.

I waited a little longer.

30 seconds passed. Then a minute. Then nearly two.

“…?”

Only then did I realize something was wrong.

What?

Why isn’t anything showing up?

Everyone else’s results appeared within 10 seconds at most.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one with this question—Aileen, who had been silently waiting, glanced at the monitor beside her.

Then, her pupils trembled faintly for a moment.

“…It seems an error has occurred. Let’s try again.”

Wait, can we just do that?

Doesn’t each test cost hundreds of Mihan?

“Professor. Didn’t you say earlier that each test consumes ten intermediate-grade magic stones?”

When I indirectly asked if it was okay to retest, Aileen nodded.

“I’ll cover the additional cost from my own funds. Don’t worry about it.”

Her response carried a faint hint of fluster.

Meaning, what happened to me was truly unusual.

Surely it’s not some cliché like my aptitude being too vast to express, right?

Trying to calm myself with such trivial thoughts, I approached the sphere again and channeled my energy.

“Stop there.”

Following Aileen’s instruction, I returned to my spot.

Silence and nervous anticipation.

But still, the screen remained unchanged.

“……”

Aileen glanced at the screen, then silently began adjusting the monitor.

“Oh, something’s appearing.”

Ume’s voice rang out.

Following her words, I turned to the screen—where a word was displayed.

Null.

What the hell is that?

Tilting my head, I rummaged through my pocket and pulled out my smartphone.

I searched for “Null,” and the results appeared.

Null: An English term meaning “no value,” primarily used in programming languages.

No value.

That’s what Null means.

In other words…

“…I have no talent?”

I have no talent whatsoever.