Reincarnated As A Character In My Own Manga

[Scene: Whisper's Light – Decision Time]

Rhask:

"Alright. Let's keep it simple."

He pointed toward Gate 5 — guarded by a knight with a massive battle axe.

"I'll take that one. Feels honest."

Solis:

"I'll take Gate 3."

Katrina (smiling faintly):

"Gate 13. The official there hasn't shifted her posture once in three minutes. That kind of control... I respect it."

Eron (glancing left and right):

"Alright, I'll go for Gate 6. It's the least crowded I feel."

Arjun (stepping back):

"Then I'll take Gate 12. Looks like a good balance."

They nodded at each other once — a shared pulse of respect.

Then without another word — they split.

One by one, Whisper's Light scattered.

[Scene: Gate 13 – The Trial Chamber]

Katrina stepped through Gate 13.

To her surprise, it opened not into a corridor... but into a massive hall. Possibly even bigger than the one they'd just left.

But this one had a stage.

A huge, elevated platform stood at the far end, lit by suspended crystal lights. Above it hung a colossal projection screen — pulsing softly like a beating heart.

Katrina's eyes widened slightly.

Katrina (murmuring):

"Extravagant."

Officials in sharp uniforms moved briskly throughout the chamber. The candidates — dozens of them already — were being lined up in organized queues based on entry order.

One such official approached Katrina.

Official (gesturing):

"You. Join that line. Wait until the 10-minute mark passes."

Katrina gave a nod and moved into place, falling in behind a tall boy with sandy hair and a thick red scarf.

He turned slightly. Noticed her.

Paused.

His heart did something strange when he saw her — the confident stride, the precise posture, the sleeveless combat gear that revealed the Whisper's Light guild mark.

Stranger (awkwardly, clearing his throat):

"Uh… hey. I'm Panda. Red Tigers Guild."

Katrina (blinking):

"Katrina. Whisper's Light."

Before anything else could be said between them—

A voice boomed from the stage.

Not loud. But commanding.

Speaker (calmly):

"Time's up."

A hush fell over the chamber.

The speaker — a man in dark silver robes with sharp cheekbones and eyes that saw too much — stepped forward into the light.

Speaker:

"The Adventurer's License Exam is one of the most prestigious events out there."

He let the silence settle.

Speaker:

"And we preserve the decorum of this institution by ensuring only the worthy even reach the point of application submission."

Every candidate straightened instinctively. The lines grew tighter. No shuffling. No whispers.

Speaker:

"You will not merely apply. You will be tested. Scrutinized. Pushed."

Speaker:

"You are not competing with the world. You are competing against each other. Only the cream will earn their licenses."

A few gulps were audible now. Some brows began to sweat.

Speaker:

"And so — we have set trials before the submission process. To eliminate the waste."

Murmurs rippled quietly.

Speaker (coldly):

"Our intent is not to cause loss of life during these trials or exams. But if it happens…"

He paused, letting the words weigh heavy.

Speaker:

"…the bodies will be returned to their guilds."

The silence that followed was no longer respectful.

It was fear.

Candidates who had arrived confident began to fidget.

Others, already nervous, turned pale.

And then—

There were a few, like Katrina.

Who stood still.

No expression.

No fear.

Just focus.