Jin didn't go deeper.
The sound he had heard—heavy, slow, deliberate—still lingered somewhere beyond the broken layers of the ruins, and even though part of him wanted to see what it was, he didn't move toward it. Not yet. The fight with the goblin brute had already shown him the gap between manageable and risky, and pushing further without reason would only turn that gap into something worse. He stood still for a moment, letting his breathing settle, his grip on the sword loosening slightly as the tension in his shoulders eased. The shallow cut on his arm had already dulled after allocating the stat points into vitality, but the memory of the hit remained clearer than the pain itself. That was enough.
He turned.
The path back wasn't empty, but it was easier. A goblin appeared from behind a low wall, and Jin cut it down without breaking pace, the motion smooth and almost automatic now. Another followed, then a third a little further ahead, each one falling just as quickly. The system responded the same way it always did, the familiar lines appearing and fading in his vision without demanding attention.
[+3 Free Stat Points]
[+15 EXP]
He didn't stop to check.
There was no need.
The numbers would be there when he wanted them.
Jin stepped through the gate a few minutes later, the pressure lifting instantly as the real world returned, lighter, clearer, easier to breathe in. The transition no longer felt jarring. It was just different, like stepping from one environment into another with a clear boundary between them. He rolled his shoulder once, testing the movement in his arm. No issue. Good.
The school grounds were louder now than they had been in the morning. Students moved in groups near the gates, some talking excitedly, others arguing over something that probably didn't matter, a few sitting off to the side checking their system panels repeatedly like the numbers would change if they looked often enough. Jin ignored all of it. He walked past without slowing, his thoughts already moving ahead of the noise.
The shrine.
The system.
The skill.
He had enough points now.
More than enough.
Upgrading the skill wasn't a guess. It was the entire reason the stat points mattered. Everything else—strength, agility, vitality—was useful, but temporary in comparison. The skill defined the ceiling.
Jin reached his dorm room without interruption, closing the door behind him and sitting down without wasting time. He opened the system immediately.
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Jin Vale
Level: 3
EXP: 59 / 210
Strength: 9
Agility: 14
Vitality: 16
Mana: 1
Free Stat Points: 41
Job: Rogue
Skills:
Inferior Extraction (Inferior)
Forty-one.
Enough.
Jin selected the skill.
The interface shifted slightly, isolating the skill from the rest of the panel as new information appeared.
[Inferior Extraction (Inferior)]
Current Effect:
→ Absorb 1% of total enemy stats as free stat points
[Upgrade Available]
Cost: 30 Free Stat Points
New Rank: Common
New Effect:
→ Absorb 3% of total enemy stats
Jin looked at it for a second.
Then confirmed.
No hesitation.
The system responded instantly.
[Upgrading Skill…]
[Upgrade Complete]
[Skill Evolution Detected]
[Inferior Extraction → Common Extraction]
The name changed.
The panel updated.
[Common Extraction (Common)]
Effect:
→ Absorb 3% of total enemy stats
Jin watched the screen for a moment.
Three percent.
Triple.
Not small.
Not gradual.
A clear jump.
That meant—
The same enemies would now give more.
Stronger enemies would give significantly more.
Scaling.
That was what mattered.
Jin closed the system slowly.
Then leaned back slightly, his gaze unfocused for a moment, not because he was thinking deeply, but because the shift had settled in.
This was where things started to accelerate.
Not in a way others could see.
Not immediately.
But steadily.
He stood up after a few seconds.
Sitting around wouldn't change anything.
And for the first time since morning, he felt something else.
Hunger.
Not the kind that came from stress or habit.
Real.
He hadn't eaten since early.
Jin stepped out of the dorm and moved through the streets without a fixed direction at first, letting familiarity guide him rather than choosing a place deliberately. The main roads were crowded, filled with noise and movement, restaurants packed with students and workers, most of them loud enough that conversation felt forced rather than natural.
He didn't stop at any of them.
Too crowded.
Too noisy.
He turned into a narrower street instead, one that curved slightly between older buildings, the kind that didn't get much attention unless someone already knew it existed. The noise from the main road faded quickly, replaced by something quieter, more contained. The buildings here were smaller, less maintained, but not abandoned. Just… overlooked.
That was where he found it.
A small corner-side restaurant, half-hidden between two older structures, its sign slightly faded but still readable. The lights inside were warm, not bright, and there were only a few tables, most of them empty.
Jin stopped for a second.
Then stepped in.
The difference from outside was immediate. The air was warmer, carrying the smell of simple food—not overly seasoned, not heavy, just clean. There was no loud music, no overlapping conversations. Just quiet movement from behind the counter where an older man stood, glancing up briefly as Jin entered.
"Sit anywhere," he said.
Jin nodded once and took a seat near the corner, his back to the wall out of habit more than intention. The chair was simple, slightly worn, but stable. He rested his arms lightly on the table, his attention shifting around the room without focusing on anything specific.
Two other people were there.
A man eating quietly near the window.
Another student, probably, sitting alone a few tables away, looking at his system panel more than his food.
No one paid attention to him.
Good.
A menu was placed on the table.
Jin glanced at it.
Simple options.
Nothing complicated.
He chose quickly.
"Stew. And bread."
The man behind the counter nodded and moved without another word.
Jin leaned back slightly as he waited, his thoughts not rushing, not stacking over each other, just settling. The noise from outside didn't reach this place. It felt separate, like it existed slightly out of sync with the rest of the city.
His hand moved unconsciously to his arm again.
The cut was barely noticeable now.
That fight—
He replayed it briefly.
Not the whole thing.
Just the moment.
Too close.
That was the only part that mattered.
He adjusted.
Next time—
It wouldn't happen.
The food arrived a few minutes later, placed in front of him without ceremony. The stew was simple, steam rising steadily from the bowl, the smell clean and steady rather than overwhelming. Jin didn't wait. He started eating immediately.
It was better than expected.
Not because it was exceptional.
Because it wasn't.
Simple.
Consistent.
Enough.
He ate in silence, not rushing, not slowing unnecessarily, letting the warmth settle as his body recovered from the strain of the gate. Outside, the world continued as usual, loud and crowded and impatient.
Inside—
It stayed quiet.
Jin finished the meal, placed the payment on the table, and stood up without lingering. As he stepped out of the restaurant, the noise of the city returned, sharper than before after the quiet inside.
He didn't stop.
Didn't look back.
The path forward was already clear.
Now—
It was just a matter of how fast he wanted to walk it.