Creak
The door groaned as it swung open, revealing a dimly lit room. It was small, but that hardly mattered. The wooden floor was scuffed from years of use, the bedframe simple but sturdy, and a modest desk stood in the corner. A single window let in just enough moonlight to bathe the space in a soft glow.
I stepped inside, scanning my temporary lodgings. Sufficient.
"This will do," I said, my voice even.
The innkeeper, a hunched man with sunken cheeks and greedy eyes, wrung his hands as he stood by the door. His clothes were slightly tattered, but his gaze flickered toward me with curiosity—no doubt wondering what a noble-looking boy was doing alone at an inn like this.
I reached into my pocket, the cool surface of a gold coin pressing against my fingers. With a flick of my wrist, it spun through the air.
He snatched it mid-flight as if his very life depended on it.
His fingers trembled as he examined it under the candlelight. The gold gleamed, a stark contrast to the calloused skin of his hands. One gold coin. It was worth a hundred silver coins—far more than the meager price he charged.
"T-This…" he stammered, struggling to believe his luck.
"This," I said, pointing at the coin, "is your advance payment. I'll be staying for twenty days. Keep the change."
His lips quivered as the realization hit. He had expected one silver coins per night—twenty silver for my entire stay. Instead, I had just overpaid by eighty silver coins without a second thought.
The weight of his newfound fortune settled on him. He immediately bowed, so low that his nose nearly touched the floor.
"Thank you, young master! You are most generous!"
I waved him off. "It's nothing."
He straightened, his eyes gleaming with newfound respect. "If you require anything—supplies, food, or special requests—please leave it to me. I will personally ensure your needs are met."
He backed away quickly, as if afraid I would suddenly change my mind.
I exhaled softly. That saves me the trouble of running errands.
———
This was the beginning.
I had left home behind after the summoning ritual. Before departing, I left a letter behind for the servants—a formality more than anything. I knew they would deliver the news to the clan, but I doubted anyone in my family would care.
In this kingdom, every child was expected to begin their journey as an adventurer at the age of twelve. For commoners, it was a rite of passage—a way to earn their keep. For nobles, it was a carefully planned process, with families ensuring their heirs had well-formed teams to guarantee safety and swift progression.
My clan had made no such arrangements for me.
It hardly mattered. I preferred it this way. Alone, I could grow unhindered.
Adventurers were those who fought monsters, explored dungeons, and carved their names into history. But the strongest among them—those who surpassed mere adventurers—became Hunters.
Hunters were legends.
They were the only ones powerful enough to face the dimensional rifts—strange, unpredictable anomalies that appeared at random across the world. These rifts were more than just gateways; they birthed monsters endlessly.
Unchecked, they could destroy entire cities.
Only Hunters could enter these rifts and close them. But becoming a Hunter wasn't simply about strength. It required far more than that. Tactics. Intelligence. The ability to survive the unknown.
Inside a rift, Hunters were transported to a different world, each one governed by the System. Some worlds assigned them roles. Others threw them into chaos with no guidance at all.
No one understood what the System truly was.
Some called it an ancient force—an inexplicable magical phenomenon. Others claimed it was the will of an unseen god. And a few theorized that it was something left behind by the demigods themselves.
One thing was certain: the Status Screen was connected to it.
Everyone possessed a Status Screen, a translucent interface that displayed their attributes, skills, and abilities. But despite centuries of research, no one understood its true origins.
I found the theories pointless. The System existed. The screen existed. Why waste time questioning it?
My own Status Screen flickered to life before me.
Unlike most, which were transparent blue, mine had changed. Ever since I merged the demon with my seal, the color had shifted—now a deep, translucent purple.
A sign that something had changed. Something had evolved.
———————————————————
[STATUS SCREEN]
Level 1:
• Zone 4
• +25 Attribute Points
• Rank 1 – Appraisal Skill
Level 2: 50/250 EXP
———————————————————
I grinned.
These levels—this entire display—weren't something ordinary people possessed.
I understood what had happened immediately.
The demon had divided his power across these levels. Instead of overwhelming my body with raw strength, he had structured it so I could unlock his abilities over time. A careful process of controlled evolution.
My gaze landed on Zone 4, and my grin widened.
I had skipped the natural laws of the world.
Most people were bound to the zone they were born with, their entire potential dictated by fate. But I had leapt from Zone 0 to Zone 4 in an instant.
And this was only the beginning.
I willed the Appraisal Skill to reveal its details.
———————————————————
[Appraisal Skill – Rank 1]
• Identifies objects, creatures, and phenomena up to Rank 1 classification.
• Reveals basic details on strengths, weaknesses, and magical properties.
———————————————————
Unheard of.
No one had a skill like this. It had to be the demon's way of sharing his knowledge with me.
Interesting.
I would allocate my attribute points later. First, I needed to see how I fared with my current stats.
With that thought, I placed my belongings inside the wardrobe. My next destination was clear.
The Adventurer's Guild.
The Adventurer's Guild was a monument to ambition, a place where the weak struggled to rise and the strong carved their legends into history. Its halls buzzed with energy—booming laughter, the clinking of tankards, and the rustle of parchment as adventurers scanned commission boards for their next hunt.
As I stepped inside, conversations paused for the briefest moment. Adventurers stole quick glances my way, their gazes flickering to my black eyes before returning to their drinks and plans.
Recognition
The Kuroshi Clan was infamous. Respected. Feared. Envied.
A name that carried power. A name that ensured I would never be ignored.
I approached the reception desk. The woman behind it was striking—emerald-green hair, sharp features, and golden eyes that gleamed behind silver-rimmed glasses. Unlike the adventurers, she showed no hesitation.
"Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild," she greeted, her voice smooth, professional. "Are you already signed with us, Mr. Kuroshi?"
She knew. Of course, she knew.
A polished woman like her would recognize a noble lineage immediately.
I met her gaze, unreadable. "Yes. Ren Kuroshi."
Her fingers danced across the crystalline interface of the desk. "One moment. Please step back for verification."
I did as instructed.
A soft hum filled the air. The floor beneath me pulsed with a faint blue glow, scanning my body with unseen magic. A heartbeat later, the light faded.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
"Zone… 5?" she murmured, almost too soft to hear.
I felt my lips twitch in amusement. So they went that far, huh?
My clan had forged my records. They had branded me Zone 5 rather than the Zone 0 I was actually born with. A desperate attempt to keep their bloodline's perfection intact.
Even when discarding me, they still refused to let their image be stained.
Pathetic.
I reached out and took the adventurer's card she handed me.
[Adventurer's Card]
Ren Kuroshi
Rank: D
The receptionist hesitated before speaking again.
"You've been assigned D-Rank instead of E or F due to your zone level," she said carefully. "However… I strongly advise starting with lower-ranked missions first. Many new adventurers overestimate their abilities and end up…"
She didn't need to finish. I knew what she meant.
Dead.
I slipped the card into my pocket. "Noted."
Something shifted in her gaze—surprise. Approval.
She had expected arrogance, maybe. A noble brat too proud to take advice.
Instead, she found something else.
She smiled, this time genuine. "You can accept commissions over there." She pointed to the booths.
I turned and walked away.
The commission boards were infused with mana, their glass surfaces shifting as adventurers filtered through available requests.
I raised a hand and tapped the glowing screen. The mana letters rearranged instantly, displaying the list of E-Rank missions.
My gaze swept across them.
• Escort a Merchant – Too slow.
• Gather Healing Herbs – Not worth my time.
• Hunt Goblins – Decent, but unnecessary risk for a first mission.
• Slime Core Collection~50 Required – Simple. Efficient. Profitable.
Perfect.
———————————————————
[Commission – 10]
Objective: Collect 50 Slime Cores
Difficulty: E-Rank
Reward: 20 Silver Coins, Magical Feather
———————————————————
The silver coins were meaningless, but the Magical Feather was valuable. A wind magic amplifier, difficult to obtain outside of black-market trades.
I accepted the quest.
Now, I needed a weapon.
——————
The blacksmith's forge was a symphony of iron and fire. Sparks flew as hammer met metal, shaping weapons that would carve through flesh and fate alike.
The blacksmith, a burly man with arms like tree trunks, barely glanced at me as I entered.
"Look around. Pick what you want," he grunted, his voice rough from years of breathing in soot and smoke.
I did.
Swords, daggers, spears—rows of weapons lined the walls, polished steel gleaming under firelight.
I reached for a lightweight steel sword, testing its balance. The edge was keen, the grip firm. A weapon designed for speed and precision.
Next, I selected a leather jacket-style armor—light, flexible, built for mobility over brute defense.
After paying with a single gold coin, I left without another word.
Destination: The Hunting Grounds.
—————-
The forest stretched before me, a sea of emerald shadows and tangled roots. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled patterns on the moss-covered ground.
This was Galmira's Wildlands, a place where monsters roamed freely—a proving ground for new adventurers and a graveyard for the unprepared.
I consulted the map that came with the commission.
The Slime Zone was close.
Closing my eyes, I exhaled and channeled mana into my ears.
The world shifted.
Sounds sharpened.
I could hear the distant chirping of birds, the whisper of leaves, the rhythmic flow of a nearby stream.
And then—
The thick, syrupy slithering of something unnatural.
My eyes snapped open.
Found you.
I kicked off the ground.
The moment I reached the clearing, I saw it.
A Slime.
Its gelatinous body quivered, translucent blue, pulsating as it oozed across the forest floor.
Weak. Slow. But deceptively dangerous.
I drew my sword.
Slash.
The blade sang through the air, cutting through the slime with flawless precision. It split apart, dissolving into mist, leaving behind a small, glowing mana orb—the Slime Core.
+5 EXP
I had no time to savor the kill.
More movement.
A cluster of slimes emerged, their forms sliding from the underbrush, dozens of gelatinous bodies quivering. Some dropped from the trees, landing with wet splats.
Then, in perfect unison, their bodies contracted.
I recognized the movement instantly.
Acid attack.
Their bodies jerked—and spat.
I dodged, rolling to the side as bursts of corrosive liquid sizzled against the ground where I stood seconds before.
The earth melted, steam rising from the scorched marks.
One hit. That's all it would take for me to die from that attack.
I tightened my grip on my sword. Close combat was too risky.
I needed to wipe them out in one move.
Mana crackled around my hand.
The air trembled.
Electricity danced across my blade, sparks snapping against the steel.
My blood surged.
A single strike—that's all I needed.
I swung.
"Lightning Slash".
A crescent arc of pure lightning exploded forward.
The slimes never stood a chance.
Boom
The arc ripped through them, reducing them to smoldering remains. Blue mana droplets scattered like shattered glass, the forest momentarily illuminated by the fading aftershock.
+60 EXP
The bunch of slimes were killed in a single strike. Smoke came out from the crater that the lightning created.
I smiled.
My magic output is on a different level from before. Of course it would be. I was now Zone 4, not Zone 0.
I raised my right hand. Ethereal blue threads of mana grew from my hand and travelled to the mana orbs that the slimes had left behind, often termed as slime cores. The glowing small orbs gathered above my hands, levitating.
It is a spell that is usually known among the nobles. It can attract mana orbs towards oneself, completely ignoring the tiresome process of physically collecting them.
Truly befitting of a noble.
The spatial ring on my finger glowed and the orbs vanished into it.
I had collected 15 slime cores.
The leaves rustled around me. Some slimes emerged out from the bushes surrounding me. And some slimes slide on the branches of the trees.
"Swift Wind", I muttered.
It was a movement-enhancing spell.
Wind swirled around my body.
I smirked.
Only 35 to go.