Morgan frowned slightly as he looked at the four men, their eager eyes reminding him of how the former owner of this body used to feel when facing them.
In those memories, they had made him shudder: fists slamming into his stomach, work piled up to the point of suffocation, constant extortion, and insults that made him shrink back, too afraid to resist.
'Damn it! The former owner left me with such a worthless body. To be stuck in this shell is nothing but a disgrace.' Morgan thought, his hand tightening into a fist.
Were bullies really that much stronger than the bullied? Morgan narrowed his eyes, recalling the fight with Jack. A few strikes and Jack was sprawled on the ground.
The body's previous owner was simply a coward. Though labeled the weakest hunter, in truth he was only slightly below the average stats of a normal F-rank.
With training, his physique could improve. With martial arts, his combat skills could grow. But he lacked ambition.
If there was any advantage to this body, it was just a moderately good appearance, though nowhere near as sharp, sculpted, or muscular as Morgan's original form.
"Boss, there are still a few hours left before work. Let us go buy a weapon as a gift to show our respect to you." Jack spoke with a flattering smile, looking every bit the sycophant.
"Mm." Morgan nodded in reply. After all, he didn't dislike fervent admirers.
Besides, he wasn't the type to take without giving. Since they had helped him, naturally, he would help them in the future.
Then, he suddenly noticed one of them was missing.
"Where did the other one go?"
"He noticed you were exhausted after the fight, so he bought you coffee to refresh you and keep your energy up before entering the dungeon later."
'Good. That one has potential,' Morgan praised inwardly, though his face showed a slight frown.
"That's not right. If anyone deserves coffee, it should be Jack. He's the one who was injured. It was my fault for hitting too hard." Morgan waved his hand.
Memories of those he had once defeated flickered through his mind. He knew how to win others over: by offering benefits and preserving their pride, especially when he held an absolute advantage.
The young man, Jack, beamed under the respect shown to him, his lips curling into a smile, eyes shimmering with excitement.
Yet his mind was still sound enough not to mistake himself as truly important. Bowing his head, he answered humbly:
"No, it wasn't your fault, Boss. It was my rashness. I should be thanking you for guiding me. I won't trouble you any further."
The three of them immediately bolted straight toward the nearest weapon shop, determined to pick out the best gift they could find for Morgan.
Watching their figures fade into the distance, Morgan narrowed his eyes, then let the corner of his lips curl upward. A pleasant feeling spread through him—these youths were truly pleasing to the eye.
"How amusing. Those brats used to bully the former owner of this body, probably because he was such an eyesore. Hah, even I find him an eyesore, let alone others." He sat down in a corner, glanced at his reflection, and muttered.
…
Not long after, the three of them came running back, carrying a very long bag. Their weary expressions spoke volumes about the weapon's weight.
"Boss, this is the best we could find. It's an F-rank weapon, better than a regular one." Jack seized the chance to be the first to speak.
Morgan sifted through the memories related to the equipment of this world, then smiled with satisfaction.
"You brats have put in the effort, and I'll remember this favor."
He knew they had emptied their pockets to buy this spear for him. Such a thing wasn't cheap, especially for F-rank hunters.
***
Rusty Iron Spear
Rank: F
Requirement: Lv 1
ATK +2
Effect: None
***
As his eyes skimmed over the item's information, his hand reached out to grasp the spear.
The moment he felt its weight pressing against his arm, a bead of sweat rolled down Morgan's forehead.
The spear was of high quality, yet far too heavy. His current body would not last long wielding it in battle.
He stepped back a few paces, spun the spear in his grip, and unleashed a series of fluid techniques.
Each swing stirred gusts of wind that swept past the four underlings, setting their eyes ablaze with excitement.
One glance was enough to realize Morgan was a master of the spear.
Clang!
The spear slammed against the ground, its tip scraping with a piercing shriek. Morgan furrowed his brow and gave a slight nod, his expression brimming with satisfaction.
"Not bad at all. You've done well." A faint smile tugged at his lips, his eyes glinting with approval.
Jack leapt up, pointing at the spear, his eyes glowing.
"Boss, you're incredible! Even if this spear belonged to me, I could never wield it like you do. Have you trained with a spear before?"
"I've learned a little." Morgan shrugged, his voice even.
In his mind, memories surfaced: fifteen-time world champion of the Hunter Tournament, every common weapon tried and mastered, each strike, each movement drilled until they became muscle memory.
[Ding! Skill proficiency with spear detected. Unlocking Skill feature.]
Morgan raised an eyebrow as sudden streams of information filled his head.
***
Morgan: Lv.2
Class: Spearman
STR 10 | AGI 8 | VIT 12 | INT 6 | WIS 6 | DEX 8 | LUK 5
HP: 600 | MP: 180 | ATK: 28 | DEF: 18 | SPD: 16
Stat Points: 5
Skill:
Thrust [Active]: Rapidly stabs with a spear, dealing 120% ATK damage.
Weapon Mastery – Spear [Passive]: When using a spear, attack accuracy and speed increase by 10%.
Power Evaluation: F
***
'Time to allocate the stat points. Based on the current situation, they should go into STR, AGI, VIT, and DEX. If other abilities show up in the future, I'll adjust accordingly.' Morgan thought.
***
STR 10 → 12 | AGI 8 → 9 | VIT 12 → 13 | INT 6 | WIS 6 | DEX 8 → 9 | LUK 5
HP: 600 → 650 | MP: 180 | ATK: 28 → 33 | DEF: 18 → 19.5 | SPD: 16 → 18
Stat Points: 0
***
The moment he chose his upgrades, Morgan's body trembled, hot blood surging as every muscle strained as though overflowing with energy.
He furrowed his brow, lips curling into a faint grin as the sense of elevation spread through him.
He spread his fingers, twisted his wrist lightly, and drew a deep breath. The sudden surge of power felt intoxicating, utterly unlike training.
'I never felt this in my previous life.' Morgan smiled, though.
In high spirits, Morgan strode forward, voice ringing with excitement:
"Brats, once work's done today, we're going drinking. My treat!"
"Boss, mighty as ever!" they shouted, eyes blazing, steps bouncing with joy.
The group made their way to the dungeon gate, ready to dig for crystals.
"Please show your documents," the guard requested.
The four passed through easily, but when it was Morgan's turn, he was stopped.
"Why are you carrying a weapon here?" the guard said, eyes fixed on the spear.
"I can't kill monsters with it? I also brought the proper tools for crystal mining." Morgan's reply was calm and unconcerned. He wasn't breaking any law, so he had nothing to fear.
"Do you realize this dungeon belongs to someone? Even if you kill monsters, you can't take the resources out." The guard's tone was stern.
Morgan's lips curled as he set both hands on his belt, his voice steady but firm:
"I understand. I'm here to train, is that not allowed? Besides, I'll still do the work properly. I only mean to sharpen my skills a little."