The elimination round was designed to weed out the majority of contestants with average skills.

However, each of the four judges possessed a power.

Each judge had one direct pass card. This card could be given to any contestant, allowing them to enter the training camp directly without having to compete for scores at the end.

Given that the four judges were split into two rooms, it was likely that some judges would score higher, and with the large number of contestants, equal scoring was common.

If, in the end, the 100th place was shared by two or more contestants with the same score, additional tests would be required.

These tests were unpredictable; luck, touch, and condition all had to be perfectly aligned to outperform one's equally ranked competitors.

Therefore, the direct pass card was extremely valuable.

Nancy looked at the smiling judge, biting her lower lip hard.

Her left hand had healed somewhat after yesterday's rest, with scabs forming over the wounds. However, during her performance, the scabs on two of her fingers had split open, causing excruciating pain that was becoming unbearable.

Yet, the temptation of the direct pass card was immense, leaving her in a state of indecision.

Seeing her dilemma, the judge on the left exclaimed in surprise, "What's the matter? Aren't you willing? Do you know how many people dream of this opportunity? And you're still reluctant?"

At this, he slapped the table in annoyance, "Never mind, I won't force you. If you don't want it, then so be it."

Nancy's heart clenched as if a large hand had grasped it tightly, her breathing becoming rapid with pain.

She knew her silent refusal had displeased both judges.

She lowered her eyelids and suddenly raised her left hand.

The judges' eyes widened. The one on the left huffed discontentedly, "What are you doing?"

Without speaking, Nancy peeled off the bandages on her left hand, then turned her palm to face them.

"It's not that I want to refuse, but my left hand might not be able to continue playing."

The judges stared at her palm, their eyes bulging in shock.

They were not blind; the scars on her fingers were deep and horrific, particularly the split scars on her index and middle fingers, from which blood was now seeping. The harrowing sight made their pupils shake violently.

To think she could play to a level that impressed both judges with such injured hands... What if her hand had not been injured...

The judge on the left pursed his lips, his voice softening, "So, you cried while playing because of the pain in your hand?"

Nancy nodded, then shook her head, "Only a small part was due to the pain. Most of it was because of the mood of the piece."

"My gosh..."

Both judges gasped, their astonishment towards Nancy reaching its peak.

Truly a genius pianist!

Before the judge on the left could speak, the one on the right had already taken out his direct pass card, "Alright, I don't need you to play another piece. I'm giving you this direct pass card right now. There are five days until you enter the training camp. During these five days, you must heal properly. Remember not to play the piano again. I want you to enter the training camp in your best condition!"