“Attention! Everyone who’s trying out to become a guardian, come this way!” an announcer standing on a balcony yelled down at the crowds beneath him with a microphone, “form a straight line please! And don’t get into fights!”

“Wow,” said Harvey, turning to Jant slightly, “alot of people seem to want to become guardians. Is is that much of an attractive job?”

“Most people who become a guardian do so for fame or recognition,” said Jant, “they do not care about the actual job, but what to impress the people around them.”

“Oh. Okay.” Harvey’s eyes swept the place around him. So all of these guys were different from him. They weren’t doing this to scrape up a living, or to get money. They were doing this for fame and glory. Well, at least they weren’t living in a crappy apartment in the center of the ghost zone of City 87.

It was a strange crowd as well. Guardians usually had some sort of gimmick, and that was very evident here. Costumes, masks, weapons, and suits were all there, with at least a hundred contestants trying out. It was quite a scary sight.

“Master, do you hope to get into the top 100?” asked Jant, “the highest ranking anyone has ever gotten on their first try to become a guardian is rank 309.”

“I don’t really care,” murmured Harvey, “I just want to get money so I can move to a better place, and I want something to do that can keep me busy.”

“I see. Master does not deal with glory or fame, and keeps to himself his tremendous and incredible power. You are an amazing person, master!” Jant took out his notebook and began to write stuff in it yet again.

Harvey didn’t try to stop him this time. He had gotten used to Jant randomly taking notes on his words ever since he had moved in, which was less than 24 hours ago.

Within an hour, Harvey and Jant had found themselves in front of the entrance to the guardian recruitment center. The officer standing in front of them was looking at his laptop, before he finally stood up. “You eight,” he said, pointing at Harvey, Jant, and six other people behind them, “you’re all clear to enter. Go to station A1 first.”

Harvey and Jant quickly entered into the recruitment facility, walking a little slower than the other six. The area inside was cooler, clearly the effects of air conditioning, and had lights that covered the ceiling. The sound of there announcer was there, but it was muffled so as to not disturb those who were going through tryouts.

“Sir, station A1 is straight ahead,” said Jant, his eyes swiveling up to a sign that headed a door, “we should try to get the highest ranking we can get.”

“Mhm,” Harvey wasn’t really thinking of recruitment right now, his mind having wandered elsewhere, “I mean...I just need the money. Any rank is fine for me.”

“Incredible. Money and rank do not matter to you.”

“Well...whatever, we’re here.”

The two of them made their way into station A1. Inside was a small room with a padded floor. Weights and medical balls littered the ground. The other six stared at them as they entered the station, and the instructor jumped up as soon as he saw Harvey and Jant.

“Finally,” he muttered, “well, now that we have everyone, why don’t all of you guys get onto the mat, and show me how much you can lift?”

The six people in front of Jant and Harvey made their way onto the mat, grabbing weights and lift bars, and began to test out their strength. Jant also made his way onto the mat, grabbing a 200-pound weight.

“Hey, uh, so we just...grab weights and see how much we can lift off the ground?” asked Harvey to the instructor, “is there anything we should be using specifically? Or…”

“Just show me how much strong your arms are,” muttered the instructor, “everyone knows about this. You should’ve been briefed with the application sheet you were given in the line.”

“Oh.” In all honesty, Harvey had thought that the application sheet was one of those random advertisements that always got stuck in his doorstep, so he had thrown it away.

“Yeah, don’t you know?” asked one of the six unknown people. He was one of the taller, bulkier ones, and was placing a one hundred pound weight on a lift bar, “if you don’t know how to lift, I would drop right now.” the other five snickered. Jant glared at them, but didn’t do anything.

Harvey stared at the person who had just spoken, then pointed to the weights he was lifting, “How much is that?” he asked.

“Four hundred pounds.” said the man, grinning proudly, “and I can lift it while talking. Is that impressive, or-”

Harvey vanished, instead becoming a blur of color that flew across the room. A lift bar was taken from the ground, as well as several weights. He reappeared, standing on the opposite end of the room, lifting a bar with 900 pounds of weights on it with one finger.

The rest of the room gawked at him.

“Is this impressive?” asked Harvey. His face was impassive, and his eyes were as dull as ever. Jant was smiling broadly, as his teacher began to display some more power.

“You...that’s not possible!” yelped the man, “you must be cheating, or-”

“So it is impressive?” Harvey raised an eyebrow, “well that’s cool. I mean, I can barely feel the weights right now.”

The instructor, who also had a shocked look on his face, quickly wrote something on the clipboard he had attached to his shirt. “Um...okay…” he stammered, “uh...you. Harvey, is that your name? You can go to the next station.”

Harvey nodded, and dropped the weights nonchalantly.

“Okay. See you around, Jant.”

Jant nodded, as Harvey made his way over to the next room. As he opened the door, he quickly noticed that the room was filled with at least thirty people, all of whom must’ve been trying out. In the center of the room was a massive track, in which a group of 12 people were running on.

“You!” Harvey turned around, as one of the instructors came running over to him, “what’s your name?”

“My name’s Harvey. I just got moved here from the weight room,” said Harvey, “uh...what do I do here? Do I just run?”

“You’ll be on the track in the next round then,” said the instructor, “take lane 12. This is a 1500 meter dash. You’ll have to make three laps around the track, and hit the finish line. We will record how you do, and report it when taking into account whether or not you will become a guardian.”

“Oh, okay.” Harvey walked over to the group that was standing near the edge of the track, who must’ve been waiting their turn. To the sides, groups of guardian wannabes were sitting on the stands, watching the track. Some of them were pouring sweat, clearly fresh from a race, while others looked relatively bored.

“Hey.” a voice suddenly rang out towards him, “where did you come from?”

Harvey turned around, to where a relatively tall man was looking at him. He had spiky blonde hair, and his eyes were stormy grey. He looked pretty young, at most twenty years old, and had a sword strapped to his belt.

“I just came from the weight room,” said Harvey matter-of-factly, “the instructor here told me to join in on the next round, and said that I should take lane 12.”

“Ah,” the man turned away, facing the track again, “I see. They usually don’t move people ahead of their groups. What did you do?”

“What do you mean?” asked Harvey, tilting his head slightly.

“Like...you had to do something, to make you get moved to this room ahead of the rest of your group. Did you...do really well at weight lifting, or what?”

“Oh, no. I just lifted a few weights and the instructor had told me to come here. Is that not normal around here?”

The man stared at Harvey, his eyes seeming to size him up. Finally, he said, “No, it’s not normal at all. But if the instructor told you to come here, then I can’t say anything. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Harvey.” said Harvey shortly, “and yours?”

“My name is Senzho, but once I become a guardian I’ll be taking the name of Sword of the North Wind. I come from a remote village in Northern Spectre. My father taught me how to use the blade with perfect lethality, and I’m here to protect others with that skill.”

Harvey had lost focus, and was staring at the wall by the time Senzho had stopped talking. Fortunately for him, that was also the moment when the instructor called out, “Alright, next batch, get onto the track!”

“Looks as if our conversation must end now,” Senzho grinned as he turned back to Harvey, “good luck.”

“Yeah, good luck to you as well.” said Harvey nonchalantly, as he also made his way onto the track. Senzho took lane 2, while the other ten people took up their positions. Harvey, who was on the last lane, looked quite unimpressive compared to the other people on the track, with his plain black t-shirt and shorts. His dull eyes swept the area in front of him before he took his position.

“3….”

Harvey could feel the muscles of the people around him tense up. These guys really wanted to become guardians.

“2…”

At this point, Harvey was the only one on the track who wasn’t in a ready position. He was still standing, looking at the other people, with a blank expression on his face. Why did people take that ridiculous pose before a race? He always saw it on TV, but never understood why.

“1…”

In the stands, Harvey saw someone pointing at him, and saying something to a friend who was sitting next to him. They were laughing at him.

“Go!”

Harvey completely vanished, becoming a blur for a moment. The only thing marking where he was was the air that blasted outwards from his location, knocking the railing that lined the track off its hinges.

A plume of dust rose, going incredibly fast once, twice, and three times around the track, before the other runners managed to even get past ten yards.

As the dust cleared away, Harvey was finally seen, this time visibly yawning. He looked at the instructor, who was staring at him with his mouth open.

“So...uh...that was 1500 meters,” said Harvey lamely, “can I go to the next station?’

There was silence in the room. The runners that were on the track had stopped to stare at Harvey, all of them gaping at him. Harvey himself looked quite confused. He looked around.

“What?” he finally asked, “can I go to the next room or not?”

“Uh...yeah...yeah you can go to the next testing room,” said the instructor, now scribbling down something onto his clipboard, “please do, please do. Runners, back to your starting positions. We’re starting over.”

Harvey could feel the weight of many eyes on his back as he made his way over to the opposite end of the testing room, and opened the door. This was quite a boring test. Couldn’t they make it a little more difficult?

The next hour went by in an equally grey blur. Swimming was passed instantly. Hurdles were passed instantly. Combat evaluation was done again combat robots, which Harvey destroyed instantly. Vertical jumping was easy. Pushups, situps, and pull-ups were passed with flying colors. The only mildly difficult section was the written exam, which tested Harvey on his knowledge of calculus and statistics, as well as psychology, game theory, and monster analysis.

But, in the end, as Harvey was resting in the locker rooms, he realized that he may have made a mistake. He had tried out to become a guardian so that he could get money and find something more meaningful to do in his life. He could certainly acquire the money, but as he thought of it more, he realized that being a guardian may be a little less fulfilling than what he had previously anticipated.

If running a 1,500 meter dash, or lifting weights, or knowing how to do calculus was the identifier for becoming a guardian, then, Harvey feared, being a guardian really wasn’t much more than just being a normal person. It was a joke.

An absolutely cruel joke.