oblivious

20 minutes remain.

Hugo exhaled through his nose as he placed his pen down. His fingers drummed against the desk for a moment before he subtly turned his gaze toward the other candidates' papers.

From an outsider's perspective, it might have seemed like he was about to give up—like the overwhelming difficulty of the exam had finally broken his resolve.

Even the towering, scarred instructor let out a slight sigh, shaking his head in disappointment. "Another one who's reached his limit, huh?"

Or so he thought...

Hugo's eyes flickered across the room, quickly analyzing each paper. His gaze moved with precision, taking in how each test adapted to the knowledge of its owner.

The elf girl's paper was dense with complex theoretical questions on mana manipulation, diagrams of magical circuits, and essays requiring in-depth analysis.

A beast race candidate's test contained tactical battle formations, wilderness survival strategies, and combat technique evaluations.

Even an ordinary-looking human was struggling with an advanced mathematical equation that required multi-layered formulas.

None of these questions were the same.

Some candidates tried to peek at their neighbors' exams, only to be left in confusion. One glanced at another's paper, expecting to see something familiar, only to find foreign symbols and jargon that meant nothing to them.

Another candidate clenched his jaw in frustration as he realized the test was shifting the moment he attempted to memorize another person's answers.

It wasn't just an exam.

It wasn't about intelligence alone, it was about knowledge. The exam wasn't just testing memory or learning; it was actively shaping itself to make every candidate struggle, ensuring that no two tests were alike.

That's when it clicked.

Hugo's fingers tightened slightly. If the test was adapting to the individual… then what would happen if he approached it from a different angle?

Slowly, he closed his eyes.

His hands moved instinctively, forming signs as if organizing his thoughts into patterns. A technique he had refined over the years—a habit, almost. One that had once caught the attention of his younger sister.

____________________

Lily Icelandra sprinted down the basement stairs, her long blue ponytail bouncing behind her as she rushed toward her father, excitement practically radiating from her.

The basement was filled with the scent of metal and oil, the air humming with the quiet whirring of machines and faint blue light from scattered mana-powered tools.

Lloyd Icelandra stood at his workbench, surrounded by half-finished devices and blueprints filled with complex schematics.

Lily skidded to a stop in front of her father, her golden eyes shining with curiosity.

"Dad! Dad!" she called, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.

Lloyd didn't even glance up at first, too focused on the fine adjustments of a small mechanical core in his hands. "What is it, Lily?" he asked, adjusting his glasses gear.

Lily huffed, puffing out her cheeks. "Come on, at least look at me!"

Sighing, Lloyd finally set down his tools and turned toward her, one eyebrow raised. "Alright, alright. What is it?"

Lily grinned wide. "How smart is Hugo?"

Lloyd blinked at the question, then leaned back slightly, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Well…" He smirked, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "Let's just say when it comes to intelligence, some are no match to him."

Lily gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "No way! Seriously?"

Lloyd chuckled at her exaggerated reaction, shaking his head.

"But wait!" Lily suddenly leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "If he's that smart, what's his IQ?"

At that, Lloyd's smirk shifted into something more amused—yet calculating. His fingers tapped against the workbench as he mulled over his response, as if debating whether or not to share.

He let out a short chuckle.

"Heh… you could say his IQ is…"

____________________

Hugo's eyes snapped open.

Numbers, patterns, and calculations flooded his vision, perfectly structured in his mind.

His brain processed information at an incredible speed, connecting past knowledge with the new data presented to him. The seemingly impossible questions were no longer roadblocks but puzzles to be solved.

His hand moved without hesitation, writing down the correct answer in smooth, calculated strokes.

The scarred instructor, who had been watching him closely, narrowed his eyes slightly. His once-dismissive expression shifted to one of faint intrigue as he noticed the sudden change in Hugo's demeanor.

A faint smirk tugged at Hugo's lips.

His IQ is... 197

The tip of Hugo's pen barely made a sound as it glided across the paper, marking answer after answer with unwavering precision.

His once uncertain and hesitant movements had now become sharp and methodical. Each question that had once seemed daunting now appeared as nothing more than an intricate pattern waiting to be solved.

The scarred instructor, arms crossed, watched in silent curiosity. His initial assumption that Hugo had given up was completely shattered. The boy wasn't just answering, he was breaking the test apart, analyzing it in a way none of the others had attempted.

Meanwhile, the other candidates were still struggling. Some were staring at their papers in frustration, others were biting their nails, tapping their pens anxiously, or frantically scribbling out wrong answers in an attempt to keep up.

A few cast envious glances at Hugo, confused by how he had suddenly picked up speed.

Hugo ignored them. His focus was absolute.

His mind worked in layers. The first was recognition—identifying the structure of each question and deciphering its core elements.

The second was deduction—pinpointing patterns, linking previous knowledge, and extracting the necessary formulas. The third was execution—writing the solution as efficiently as possible.

One by one, the questions fell before him.

He continued this process until, finally, he reached the last question. His eyes scanned it carefully.

Within the paper it ask: In theoretical mana resonance, how does frequency modulation affect the stability of high-density energy channels?

Hugo's pen hovered over the paper.

This was different. Unlike the previous questions, this one didn't match anything he had studied before, as if the paper adapt to make it impossible but possible.

It wasn't a matter of intelligence—it was a matter of experience. This was knowledge that only someone deeply involved in mana research or high-level spellcrafting would know.

A subtle test...

Hugo exhaled, his mind shifting gears. If the answer wasn't within his personal knowledge, then he had to approach it differently.

He recalled fragments of discussions he had overheard from his father, the way Lloyd spoke about mana circuits and the way energy flowed like currents through properly designed constructs.

His fingers tightened around the pen.

After a brief pause, he began to write—not an exact answer, but a theoretical deduction based on logic and inference. Instead of avoiding the question, he dissected it, breaking it down into smaller pieces and explaining his reasoning step by step.

The instructor's brow lifted slightly as he observed. He's not just answering… he's constructing a theory from scratch.

A minute later, Hugo placed his pen down and said. "Done."

The room was still filled with the sound of others struggling through their tests, but for him, the challenge was over. He leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose.

Across the room, a few students noticed his finished exam and looked on in disbelief.

The instructor smirked, walking over to Hugo's desk. "Well then.." he said, picking up the paper. His eyes skimmed over the answers, his expression unreadable.

A moment passed.

Then he let out a short chuckle. "Interesting."

He placed the paper back down and gave Hugo a sharp look. "You're done. You can leave."

The other candidates, still struggling through their exams, turned their heads in shock. Some gawked at Hugo, others shot envious glares.

Hugo didn't react. He simply stood up, pushed in his chair, and walked toward the door. As he passed the instructor, the scarred man spoke again, his voice low enough that only Hugo could hear.

"You're different from the others, kid. Let's see if that's a good thing."

Hugo didn't reply. He opened the door and stepped out, leaving behind a room filled with confused and frustrated candidates still wrestling with their ever-changing exams.

____________________

Lily leaned forward, resting her arms on the workbench cluttered with blueprints and mechanical parts.

Her golden eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked up at her father. "If so, then what do you mean by 'some' when he is this smart? And why doesn't he seem that smart despite his IQ?"

Lloyd let out a chuckle, setting down a wrench before wiping his hands on a rag.

He glanced at his daughter, his expression a mix of amusement and knowing. "That's because he's too oblivious despite knowing it."

Lily tilted her head. "Huh? That doesn't make sense."

Lloyd smirked, crossing his arms. "It does if you know Hugo. He doesn't flaunt his intelligence, and half the time, he doesn't even realize when he's outsmarting someone. It's just how his brain works."

Lily puffed up her cheeks. "That's so unfair. How come he's so smart but acts so normal?"

Lloyd shrugged. "That's just who he is. And that's why it's hilarious watching people underestimate him."

Lily frowned, deep in thought. Then, a sly grin spread across her face. "Does that mean he'd be even smarter if he actually tried?"

Lloyd laughed. "Now, that's the real question, isn't it?"

Lily squinted at her father, waiting for some profound answer. When he just grinned at her, she leaned in closer. "So… would Hugo be even smarter if he actually tried?"

Lloyd stroked his beard as if deep in thought, then shrugged. "I don't know."

Lily's face went blank. "Seriously?"

Lloyd just laughed, returning to his work as Lily groaned in frustration.