The sun wasn't yet a glare, just a promise of heat, but the dirt beneath Beny's boots was already warm. Six years. Six years he'd spent in this plot of land, digging, plotting, and removing grass. The rhythm of the work was etched into his bones, a metronome set to the slow, relentless beat of manual labor.
Beny was ten today. Most children in the village spent their tenth birthday excitedly waiting by the municipal hall for the official Awakening Ceremony, dreaming of becoming 'A-Class Mages' or 'B-Class Knights.' Beny, however, had the calloused hands of a man twice his age and the mind of a farmer. He knew the difference between loamy soil and clay, and he knew a blunt hoe cost him ten minutes of efficiency. That was his reality.
He started young, a three-year-old tagging along, hauling small buckets. By four, he was managing a spade. For six years now, while others learned geometry, he had mastered the geometry of the furrow. He was arguably the most veteran field worker in the entire district, a fact that earned him pity from the townsfolk and fierce, silent respect from the few old men who understood true toil.
He was mid-swing, the worn wooden handle of his hoe slick with sweat, when the world dissolved into a pale, internal light.
The Awakening.
It wasn't a flash of fire or a crack of thunder. It was an instant, silent shift that manifested a translucent blue screen directly in his line of sight.
-[ User: Beny ]--
-[ Age: 10 (Awakening Complete) ]--
Beny, who had only ever seen these screens in cheap wood-block pamphlets, almost dropped his hoe. He quickly tightened his grip, forcing himself to look calm as a neighbor walked past, offering a distracted wave.
He focused on the screen, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The details appeared slowly, scrolling into existence with a crisp, digital chime that only he could hear.
-[ Class: Unspecified ]--
-[ Skill Acquired: Stats Gain Multiplier (Tool Use) ]--
-[ Rank: SSS ]--
Beny stared.
SSS.
The highest possible rank, a classification reserved for legends and myths. He had expected a D, maybe a C-class skill related to endurance or, perhaps, 'Lawn Management (F)'. But SSS?
He read the skill description again, the words burned into his mind: Stats Gain Multiplier (Tool Use): All stats gained through physical action while utilizing a handled, non-magical tool are multiplied by 10x.
A chill ran down his spine, colder than any morning dew. The system hadn't given him raw strength or flashy magic. It had validated the very work he had spent his life avoiding. He didn't have to be a Knight, he didn't have to be a Mage. He just had to keep farming, keep swinging his simple hoe, and every single point of Strength, Stamina, and Dexterity he earned would now be multiplied tenfold.
The sheer potential of the skill was staggering, almost criminal. If he trained for a single day, it would be the equivalent of ten normal days. After six years of constant, unmultiplied labor, he knew exactly how much effort that represented.
With a practiced ease that belied the internal earthquake, Beny flicked the interface away with an invisible thought. The blue screen vanished. The hoe remained in his hands, now not just a tool, but the key to a hidden destiny.
The village tournament was next month—the first step on the path that led from the Island Qualifier to the City, Province, and eventually, the Country Championships. Most people treated it like a bit of fun, a way to test their new C or B-rank powers.
Beny smiled, a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch of his lips, and resumed his work. He looked like the same tired, dirt-stained farmer boy, but inside, a new journey had just begun. He had six years of debt to pay back to the land, and now, he had the perfect method to do it while quietly preparing to become something no one, not even the grand Awakening Masters, could have predicted.
The greatest skill was hidden in the oldest dirt.