In the third round, Ariel divided the remaining people into several small groups to conduct a simulated "capture mission."
This time it was no longer a simple matter of arriving or defeating; instead, they were required to simulate surrounding a target and capturing them alive.
This tested teamwork, tactical arrangement, and the precise control of power.
Ariel saw many cases of failure:
Some were eager for quick success and exposed themselves too early;
Some cooperated poorly and hindered each other;
Some even sabotaged the entire plan at critical moments just to snatch the credit.
But some groups showed amazing chemistry.
There wasn't much verbal communication between them; they could understand each other's intentions just through eye contact and gestures.
They were like a pack of real hounds with a clear division of labor: some were responsible for feints to draw attention, some flanked and surrounded the target, and others provided suppressive fire from the rear to ensure the target couldn't escape.
Ariel's gaze lingered on these people.
He saw a seemingly lax member who always managed to use his Pokémon to block sudden attacks at the most critical moments, buying precious breathing room for his teammates.
He was a natural shield, a trustworthy back.
Another taciturn member, whose Pokémon was an Arbok, always moved silently in the shadows.
He wasn't the main force on the frontal battlefield, but he was an expert at blocking retreats and creating traps.
Every move he made was perfectly timed, precisely cutting off the target's escape route.
In Ariel's mind, the prototype of his ideal team gradually emerged.
They could be sharp blades, sturdy shields, invisible traps, or keen eyes.
But no matter what, they all had to have one thing in common:
Absolute loyalty to the mission and a state of mind that could maintain efficient execution even under extreme pressure.
After a series of tests and Ariel's personal selection, he chose the first batch of candidates, twenty people in total.
Two were clerks, one of whom was the woman who had shown amazing insight and patience in the first round.
The remaining eighteen were all combat personnel.
In the empty Selection Hall, the alloy-cast walls reflected the pale light cast by the overhead lamp array—cold and ruthless, illuminating every tiny scratch on the floor clearly.
Twenty figures stood straight, like a row of javelins waiting for inspection.
They were the final victors, Superiors who had stood out from hundreds of competitors.
The eighteen combat personnel had body lines that exuded a battle-hardened ferocity; even standing still, they were like beasts ready to pounce.
The only exception was the girl standing at the end of the line, Yuki.
She wore a well-fitting clerical uniform, her figure slender, with a hint of lingering childishness on her face, but her posture was just as upright, and there was no cowardice in her eyes—only a focus that could only be cultivated through rigorous training.
At this moment, the gazes of these twenty people were all focused on the three-meter-high metal platform in front of them.
There, a figure stood leaning against the railing, his body hidden in the shadows of the light, with only a blurry silhouette visible.
But that silhouette alone radiated an invisible pressure, making the atmosphere of the entire Selection Hall as heavy as mercury.
That was Lord Ruth.
A rapidly rising legend within Team Rockets, known for his thunderous methods and amazing battle record, he was an existence that countless low-level members looked up to and feared.
Becoming his direct subordinate meant a meteoric rise.
Yuki was also watching, her heart beating a bit faster than usual.
She clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms, using the slight sting to maintain her composure.
Relying on her inner admiration for Lord Ruth and her information processing capabilities and intelligence analysis talent that far surpassed her peers,
she had forced her way through a group of battle maniacs to become one of the only two clerks selected.
She knew this was her only chance to escape her low-level fate.
She had to seize it.
On the platform, Ariel took in the expressions of the ten people below.
Some were ambitious, some forced themselves to be calm, and others tried their best to hide their nervousness.
His gaze lingered on each person for less than half a second, yet it felt as if he had already seen through their very core.
Finally, his gaze landed on Yuki.
It really was her.
The clumsy young girl who had guided him and recorded data during his promotion to Intermediate Cadre.
Ariel vaguely remembered Yuki's confident words back then.
"My professional ability is one of the best in our Office!"
Looking at it now, she hadn't lied.
To be able to squeeze into the final list of such a selection as a clerk in a place like Team Rockets, where people are eaten alive, if her professional ability wasn't strong, she would have been eliminated long ago with nothing left.
A bit interesting.
Ariel didn't speak immediately; he enjoyed the sense of oppression brought by this silence.
This was a manifestation of power and a silent screening process.
For those whose mental fortitude wasn't up to par, just standing here would be enough for their spirits to collapse.
Time passed second by second, each one like a stretched rubber band—tense and agonizing.
Finally, just as sweat began to bead on the forehead of one of the combat personnel, Ariel moved.
He didn't speak; he just turned and walked down the metal hanging ladder on the side of the platform, step by step.
His boots stepped on the ladder, making crisp "tap, tap, tap" sounds; each one felt like it was knocking on the hearts of the ten people.
As he stepped out of the shadows and into the light, his full appearance was finally clearly revealed to everyone.
A well-tailored black Executive uniform, a slender figure, and a cold temperament.
The most striking thing was the mask on his face, which covered most of his visage, leaving only a well-defined jawline and a pair of bottomless eyes visible.
These eyes swept over the crowd with a coldness akin to inspecting merchandise.
Yuki's breath hitched at this moment.
This figure, this jawline outline... why was it so familiar?
In her mind, an image suddenly flashed.
That big shot who soloed a Tyranitar during the Intermediate Cadre test?!
Was it him?
Impossible...
Although that man was powerful, his temperament was more like a powerful Trainer traveling the world.
But the "Lord Ruth" before her exuded the bone-deep coldness and majesty belonging to the high-ranking members of Team Rockets.
How could the two be the same person?