The room Garrick gave me was small, but it was clean. A narrow bed with a thin mattress, a single window overlooking the alley, a rickety table, and a washbasin that still had water in it. Luxury compared to sleeping on cold stone or running through sewers.
I locked the door, wedged the only chair under the handle for good measure, then collapsed onto the bed without bothering to take off the stolen cloak.
Sleep came fast and ugly—dreams of Earth mixed with the summoning chamber. Trucks. Blood. Aria's wide eyes. The moment I chose to steal her mana. I woke up twice, sweating, convinced I heard boots in the hallway.
When dawn finally leaked through the cracked shutters, I felt… different.
Not rested.
Sharpened.
I sat up, stretched, and pulled up my status again.
[Name: Takahashi Ren]
[Level: 4]
[Slots Filled: 1/3]
• Mana Manipulation (EX)
[Passive Talents Acquired: Swordsmanship (A)]
[Mana: 320/320] (noticeable increase overnight)
[Stamina: 180/180]
The numbers were climbing even without fighting. Passive growth from the stolen talent, maybe. Or just the system rewarding survival.
I needed to test limits.
And I needed money.
And I needed to stop being the hunted and start being the hunter.
Downstairs, Garrick was already behind the counter, polishing a longsword with a rag that had seen better decades.
"Morning, celebrity," he said without looking up. "Sleep like the dead?"
"Close enough." I leaned on the counter. "What's the fastest way to make coin around here?"
He snorted. "You're wanted by the crown. Fastest way is to turn yourself in and collect the reward on yourself."
"Second fastest?"
"Adventurer's Guild. Low-rank quests pay garbage, but they don't ask for papers or backgrounds. You register as a bronze-rank, take monster-slaying jobs in the outer zones. Kill goblins, wolves, maybe a horned boar if you're feeling lucky. Bring back proof—ears, tusks, whatever—and get paid."
I nodded. "Where's the guild?"
"Three streets east. Big building with a sword-and-shield sign. You'll smell the sweat and desperation before you see it."
He paused, eyeing me.
"But word of advice, kid. They do basic appraisals when you register. If your mana signature screams 'wanted criminal,' you're done."
I flexed my fingers. Mana Manipulation (EX) let me shape my own flow like clay. I could suppress it. Dampen it. Mimic something weaker.
"Got it," I said. "Anything else?"
Garrick reached under the counter and slid a small leather pouch across to me. Inside: ten bronze coins, three silver ones, and a rough iron dagger.
"Starter loan," he grunted. "Ten percent interest per week. Don't die before you pay me back."
I pocketed it. "Thanks."
"Don't thank me. Just don't get caught. I like my shop quiet."
The Adventurer's Guild smelled exactly as promised: sweat, leather, cheap ale, and the faint copper tang of old blood.
The building was three stories tall, stone and timber, with wide double doors that stood open even at this early hour. Inside, a massive hall buzzed with activity—people in armor lining up at counters, posting jobs on boards, arguing over quest shares.
A huge crystal orb hung from the ceiling, slowly rotating. Mana pulsed inside it like a heartbeat.
I kept my hood low and joined the line for new registrations.
The receptionist was a woman in her thirties—short brown hair, tired eyes, guild badge pinned to her vest. She looked like she'd seen every type of idiot this world had to offer.
"Name, origin, class preference," she said without preamble when it was my turn.
"Ren," I answered. "Traveler. No class yet."
She raised an eyebrow. "Traveler, huh? Put your hand on the orb."
The crystal descended on a chain until it hovered just above the counter.
I hesitated for half a second, then placed my palm against it.
Cool glass. Warmth underneath.
I focused—compressed my mana signature down to something ordinary. A faint blue glow, nothing flashy. Nothing like the bonfire Garrick had sensed.
The orb pulsed once.
[Appraisal Complete]
[Name: Ren]
[Race: Human]
[Level: 4]
[Class: None]
[Notable Talents: Mana Affinity (C), Basic Swordsmanship (C)]
Fake enough to pass. Good.
The receptionist nodded. "Bronze rank. Welcome to the guild. Rules: no killing other adventurers inside city walls, pay your dues on time, don't take quests above your rank without party approval. Board's over there. Pick something easy. First death's free, second one costs your dignity."
She stamped a small bronze plate and slid it across. My guild card.
I pocketed it and moved to the quest board.
Most jobs were basic:
Gather 20 moonbloom herbs (reward: 8 bronze)
Escort merchant caravan to nearby village (15 silver)
Subjugate goblin nest in Blackthorn Woods (30 silver + materials)
I needed something that would give me combat experience. Something with bodies I could… harvest.
My eyes landed on a red-bordered notice pinned at the bottom.
Urgent – Bronze+ Only
Horned Wolf Pack sighted near Old Mill Road
Threat Level: Medium
Reward: 50 silver + wolf pelts / cores
Note: Pack leader confirmed. Enhanced specimen. Proceed with caution.
Perfect.
Wolves.
Pack animals.
Multiple targets.
Multiple talents.
I tore the notice down and headed for the exit.
Outside, the morning sun was climbing. The city felt alive now—vendors shouting, carts rumbling, children running between legs.
I bought a cheap waterskin and some dried meat with Garrick's loan, then followed the directions on the quest slip.
Old Mill Road was a half-hour walk north, past the city gates. The guards at the gate gave me a lazy once-over but didn't stop me. My guild card was enough.
The road wound through light forest—tall pines, underbrush thick enough to hide trouble. The mill itself was abandoned, wheels broken, roof caved in. A perfect ambush spot.
I heard them before I saw them.
Low growls. Rustling leaves. The snap of twigs.
Then the first wolf stepped out.
Larger than any wolf on Earth—shoulder-high, gray fur streaked with black, eyes glowing faintly yellow. A small red horn curved from its forehead.
Horned Wolf.
Level 6, according to the faint system tag that appeared above its head when I focused.
Behind it, four more emerged. One bigger—Level 8. The pack leader. Thicker neck, longer horn, scars across its muzzle.
They circled slowly.
I drew the longsword.
My heart was steady.
Not calm.
Ready.
The first wolf lunged.
I sidestepped, Mana Manipulation guiding my body like a puppet on perfect strings. The sword came up in a clean arc—Swordsmanship (A) making the motion feel instinctive.
Steel met fur.
Blood sprayed.
The wolf dropped, throat opened.
[Enemy defeated: Horned Wolf (Level 6)]
[Talent Devourer – Devour Window Available]
[Options: Enhanced Agility (C+), Horned Charge (B-), Pack Instinct (C)]
I chose Enhanced Agility.
[Talent Acquired: Enhanced Agility (B)] (upgraded on absorption)
The remaining wolves howled.
The pack leader charged.
I met it head-on.
Claws raked across my forearm—pain flared, but Steel Resolve kicked in. Stats rose slightly from the damage.
I twisted, drove the sword into its shoulder, then yanked it free and slammed a compressed mana sphere into its side.
The impact cracked ribs. It staggered.
I didn't give it time to recover.
One more strike—clean, precise—through the neck.
It fell.
[Enemy defeated: Horned Wolf Pack Leader (Level 8)]
[Talent Devourer – Devour Window Available]
[Options: Alpha Presence (A-), Greater Strength (B+), Horn Reinforcement (A)]
I took Horn Reinforcement.
[Talent Acquired: Horn Reinforcement (A)]
[Passive: Physical durability increased by 40%. Bone and horn-like structures (if any) become significantly harder. Synergy with existing talents detected.]
The last three wolves broke and ran.
I let them.
No point wasting energy on cowards.
I knelt beside the leader's corpse, cut off an ear and the horn as proof, then harvested the core—a small, glowing red crystal from its chest.
Proof of subjugation.
And two new talents.
I stood, blood on my hands, breath coming steady.
The forest was quiet now.
Just wind and distant birds.
I looked at my status.
Level 6 now.
Slots still 1/3.
But the hunger—the real hunger—was only growing.
One pack down.
Thousands more out there.
Talents waiting to be taken.
I started walking back toward the city, wolf ear in my pocket, horn in my hand.
The road felt shorter on the way home.
Because I wasn't running anymore.
I was hunting.