"Stand ready for the next test," the guard called out, prompting them to form their line once again.
Lloyd looked at the piles of bags of rice laid out at intervals along the north and south walls, and he started wondering what kind of test they could make from them.
It was clear that they didn't have the resources for a more proper evaluation, so it seemed like they were working with what they had.
There were now three more guards who had come to help the first two set the bags up. The tension amongst the others in the line was suffocating.
They had been goofing off just a few moments ago, but it seemed like the reality of possibly failing was slowly sinking in. To those who had failed the first test, this was their last chance to recover.
The first guard stepped up and said, "I hope that you're ready. The second test will begin shortly."
"Before we begin, I should explain the specifics," he continued. "The test entails the bags of rice you see piled up by the walls."
"You are to move one pile from a wall of your choosing and carry it to the opposite wall, completing one turn," he said as he pointed toward the bags. "To pass, you have to complete a number of turns within four and a half minutes."
"Um, excuse me, sir," one of the candidates said, interrupting him. "How many turns do you have to complete to pass? You didn't specify."
The others stood silent, eagerly waiting for an answer.
"You will be doing the test in groups of four," the guard said. "For every group, the number needed to pass will be different, and the exact number will only be revealed after the round is over."
Almost simultaneously, the line erupted into murmurs and whispers, but the guard didn't intervene.
After letting the commotion continue for a while, he said, "This test is meant to show how well you can react under pressure, especially in seemingly impossible situations."
"I get it," Lloyd thought. "Since the pass mark will always be changing, we'll all be forced to give our all and try to finish as many turns as possible."
"This might also benefit the guys who failed the first test because their cutoff could be made lower to even the playing field," he thought as he glanced at the others in the line. "But that also means that the people who passed the first test might be at a severe disadvantage."
"Passing this test doesn't seem like it will be a problem, but now I have to think of a new way to stay under the radar," he thought as the guard called the first group out. "I guess I'll just watch how it goes before I think of a plan."
The first group of four lined up by the south wall, each standing beside a pile of rice. Once one of the guards gave the signal, the clock started, and they immediately shot into action.
The difference in each of their ways of thinking became apparent right from the start.
Some of them began by moving the pile at their feet to the opposite end as their first turn, while others opted to start by moving the pile at the opposite end back to the starting point as their first turn.
"So it's a test of quick thinking and strategy too," Lloyd thought as he watched them.
Despite their different approaches, they all seemed to be making progress. One would assume that the ones who started by moving the opposite pile back to the starting point would be at a disadvantage, but since running empty-handed while moving the piles was inevitable, neither approach had a clear advantage.
The only difference, as Lloyd saw it, was how quickly one could commit to one of the two strategies. That was the only real advantage.
If one of them stood there thinking about which was the better option, they would lose precious time out of the four and a half minutes that they could never get back.
As Lloyd was lost in thought, he didn't notice until the guard called it that the first round was over. The four candidates stepped forward to hear the cut-off along with the rest of the group.
Their cut-off was set at ten turns, which meant only two of the four passed.
The second group followed, then the third, the fourth, and the fifth. Judging by the cut-offs for each of the rounds, there didn't seem to be any obvious pattern. It almost seemed random, which only escalated the tension among the remaining candidates.
Finally, Lloyd's group—or rather, Kageto's—was called for its round. They stood with the south wall to their backs and a pile at their feet, just like every group before them.
The signal was given, and they shot off. Lloyd immediately started with the pile at his feet, picking up the top bag and rushing to the opposite wall.
He wasn't the only one who chose this approach, so Lloyd quietly matched the other candidates' pace, speeding up and slowing down at intervals so as not to arouse any suspicion.
As the test dragged on, its true purpose became clearer. The running speeds of the candidates began dropping rapidly as exhaustion set in from their earlier pace.
Though Lloyd didn't seem particularly tired, he had to match the other candidates' pace or else he would stand out. That was until the last thirty seconds, when he quickened his pace slightly just so he could fit in two more turns before time ran out.
When the clock finally ran out, he doubled over and panted just like the rest, but his gaze remained fixed on the guard as he anxiously waited to hear the cut-off.
"For the final group," the guard said once they had caught their breath, "your cut-off is thirteen."
"Thirteen," Lloyd thought. "That was close. I only made fourteen turns. If I hadn't picked up the pace in that last stretch, I would have been done for."
"You can take another break before your final test," the guard said, and the line broke apart.
"One more test," Lloyd thought to himself. "Since I already passed the first two, there is no point in making me—or the rest of the people who passed both tests—do the third one."
"There should also be people who are already disqualified, but he didn't say anything about that either," he thought.
"What does this mean?"