Grone pushed open the restaurant door, stepping out into the bustling street. Tyler followed close behind, his eyes darting around, taking in the other hunters. His system, ever vigilant, displayed their levels as text boxes above their heads. He did a double-take at one familiar hunter—a level 62. It was Gary. Gary was a "level 62"? The surprise was fleeting, however, as Grone abruptly changed direction, gesturing towards a building constructed of brown bricks. The building was a two-floor structure, unremarkable except for the inscription above the door. Tyler stared at it, surprised. The words "Rank Assessment Building" were clearly visible, yet they weren't written in any language he recognized. They were more like stylized scribbles, a completely alien script. And yet, he understood them perfectly. He muttered to himself, "Is this... the Rank Assessment Building?" Grone, beside him, nodded. "Yes," he said, "We should go in."
The door creaked open under Grone's hand, revealing the interior of the building. A wave of nervousness washed over Tyler. He wanted to know his rank—he knew his rank; it was G-rank, wasn't it? But Grone insisted he was wrong, that only babies were at that rank. Would Grone finally accept the truth? Or was Grone right, and the implications of that were… unsettling. Would a G rank hunter truly be as as weak as babie? Or were babies in this world abnormally strong? With a shared glance, Grone and Tyler stepped inside.
The floor inside was wood, much like the restaurant they'd just left—not squeaky clean or polished, but serviceable. Hunters sat at tables lined up in rows to either side of the room, seemingly filling out forms or signing papers. Tyler followed Grone, who approached a counter where a man stood. Grone greeted him with a casual, "Hey, Charles," and the man replied, "Grone, how have you been?"
"Are you here to check your rank again?" Charles asked Grone. Grone replied, "Yeah, kind of. I'm actually here to check mine and this… boy's." He gestured towards Tyler, who felt a prickle of annoyance. "Boy"? He was twenty-one years old! He was a man, not some child. Charles seemed to notice Tyler for the first time. "Oh," he said, "Is he some kind of new hunter? Because apply here, he'll have to go to the rank assessment center in Town."
"I know, I'm not trying to get him registered as a new hunter here. He'll have to go to the central office for that. I just want to check his rank, and mine as well," Grone explained. Charles said, "All right. This way." As they walked towards the stairs, Charles paused, smiling back over his shoulder as he started to climb. "You've actually been at level 48 for a week now, Grone. Has your level gone up?"
"I don't know, that's why I'm here to check," Grone said, starting up the stairs. Charles called after him, "They say that if you're nearing C-rank, you can really feel it when you level up. Most hunters above C-rank say they can tell. You just have to keep track." Grone replied, "So I've heard." Tyler remained silent, following the two men up the stairs to a door on the left. Opening the door, they found a man seated behind a large brown desk piled high with files. The man behind the desk—wearing glasses, with short brown hair, and a pipe clenched between his teeth—looked up as they entered. Charles announced, "Sir, we have some hunters here to check their ranks." The man grunted, "Let them in." Grone and Tyler stepped fully into the room. The man's expression shifted as he recognized Grone. "Oh, it's you," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm. His eyes, however, narrowed with curiosity as he regarded Tyler, a puff of pipe smoke escaping his lips. He clearly wondered who this newcomer was.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Who is this new boy with you? Is he a new hunter?" the man asked. Grone replied, "No, he's not really a hunter." The man raised an eyebrow. "So what's he doing all the way out here? Is he one of those supply runners?" Grone, wanting to avoid a lengthy explanation, simply agreed, "Yes, one of them." Tyler's heart skipped a beat. A supply runner? He had no idea what Grone was talking about; what supplies? A wave of unease washed over him.
"Well, let's not waste any time. Let's check both your ranks," the man said, gesturing towards a space beside his desk. "Charles, give them some room." Charles obligingly stepped aside, allowing Grone and Tyler to approach. The man pushed his chair back with a grunt, stretching towards a wall. Tyler gasped—on the wall was a small, glass-like board, unlike anything he'd ever seen.
The glass was unlike anything Tyler had ever seen. Black, yes, but the blackness seemed to shift and writhe, like a hole opening into some unseen depth, yet somehow remaining a solid surface. It wasn't the flat, inert black of a switched-off screen; it felt… different. Beneath the glass, half-embedded in the wall, was a sphere, an orb of some kind. Grone stepped forward, removed his glove, and placed his hand on the orb. As Grone's hand rested on the orb, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. The black glass reacted instantly. A blue mist coalesced within its depths, swirling and condensing until it solidified into letters: LV-49. Beneath the level indicator, another designation appeared: D+. Tyler stared, shocked. So this was how ranks were displayed in this world. A simple, yet strangely unsettling, visual representation.
"Ha," the man said, tapping his chin. "You've actually leveled up." Grone smiled, withdrawing his hand. Charles commented, "He leveled up! It's been a while. But you're still at least one level away from that C-rank dream of yours." Grone said, "Yeah." He turned to Tyler. "Your turn." Tyler looked apprehensive, approaching the orb hesitantly. He asked, "What am I supposed to do?" The man tilted his head, a hint of confusion in his expression. "This… supplier… is asking something everyone should know?"
"What do you mean?" the man asked, clearly perplexed by Tyler's question. "Simply put your hand on the orb and pour your mana into it," Grone explained, stepping aside. "Then it'll tell you." Tyler frowned. "Mana? Wait…" He remembered seeing MP in his system stats, but he'd never understood its purpose. From watching Mike play games, he knew mana was associated with MP and using abilities—it went down when powers were used, but it wasn't going down when he was using his crafting ability in the forest. He was completely baffled.
Tyler hesitated, then placed his hand on the cool, smooth surface of the black orb. Instantly, his system message appeared: Pouring mana into orb: MP 30/33. His mana count decreased by three points. Then, just as before, a blue mist formed within the orb, obscuring the sphere within. Tyler glanced at Grone, who looked genuinely surprised.
His attention snapped to a dull thud from the wooden floor. He looked up to see the pipe-smoking man; his mouth was agape, the pipe clattering to the floor. Tyler's gaze shot to the black glass orb. It read LV 4, and beneath that, G-rank. The surprise on the faces of Grone and the others confirmed what he already knew. He was G-rank.