Tyler continued to stare at the girl's face, his gaze almost clinical, as if scanning her features. "Sir?" she prompted, tilting her head slightly. He blinked, snapping out of his scrutiny. "Oh, um, I don't have any money," he mumbled, then a thought struck him. He remembered Hector mentioning a recent theft of daggers from his shop, the culprits described as orphans living on the streets. "You didn't happen to steal this, right?" he asked cautiously. The girl's eyes widened, and she quickly moved the dagger away, a nervous tremor in her hand. "Um, no," she whispered.

"Can I see the dagger, then?" Tyler asked. At his words, the girl turned and fled, running swiftly away. Tyler hesitated, taking a step forward as if to give chase, then stopped. The exhaustion from his training and the fight with the Elin weighed heavily on him; he was too tired to pursue her. He watched her go, seeing her quickly distance herself. His system automatically assessed her level as she ran: Emily Shred: Level 24.

"Emily Shred," Tyler whispers, the name lingering on his lips. He turns and walks towards Grone's house, opening the door and stepping inside. The house is empty. He heads to his room, intending to rest. Before settling down, he sits on his bed, assuming the lotus position, and focuses inward, attempting to sense his mana. After a moment, he realizes the level remains unchanged. He opens his eyes and speaks the command, "Status." His system menu appears, floating before him.

SPECIES: Human

NAME: Tyler Evans

RANK: F LVL: 16

CLASS: Craftsman

HP: 62/62MP: 62/62

STR: 51 AGI: 44 DEF: 63

STM: 35

STATUS: Tired

Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft, Weapon Mastery, Bash:MC-15

With the appearance of his status menu, Tyler realizes his mana (MP) is fully replenished. He considers this, a question forming in his mind: "Does leveling up refill my MP?" A moment later, he understands; his MP has indeed been restored to full upon leveling. He checks his status again, noting the lingering Tired debuff. He recalls that leveling sometimes lessens exhaustion, though rarely removes it completely. Two consecutive level-ups might do the trick, but that hadn't been the case when leveling through exercise; only defeating monsters seemed to alleviate the exhaustion.

"Oh well, time to get some rest," Tyler murmured. As he attempted to remove his crimson armor, his nail caught on the fabric, scratching it slightly. A bizarre event followed. A red message flashed across his system: Armor has taken too much damage. The armor shimmered, turning a brilliant blue before dissolving into a cloud of tiny, glowing blue particles, like fireflies, that slowly dispersed into nothingness. Tyler stared, dumbfounded. He recalled the fight with the Elin, realizing the battle must have damaged the armor more than he'd realized, but the sudden loss of his protection left him feeling disoriented and uneasy.

He recalled losing his iron sword during the fight as well. The only weapons he had left were his bashing hammer and the copper daggers. A wave of worry washed over him; would all his equipment react the same way if damaged? The iron sword had been cleaved in two by the Elin's wind attack, and though he hadn't retrieved it afterward, he knew it was unusable. He just didn't know what had happened to it. All he knew was that it no longer functioned.

He sighed, slumping back against the bed. Closing his eyes, he decided to rest, hoping perhaps to level up while asleep. As he drifted off, the front door creaked open, and Grone stepped inside. The sun had already set, and Tyler slept soundly.

Grone went straight to Tyler's bedroom and found him fast asleep. A quiet smile played on his lips; he recognized the deep, exhausted sleep of someone who had pushed themselves to the very brink. A familiar warmth bloomed in his chest; he knew Tyler's relentless drive, his refusal to accept limitations. It was a quality Grone both respected and, in a way he couldn't quite articulate, envied. A quiet pride filled him as he observed the young man; Tyler's dedication was inspiring. Then, Grone quietly returned to his own bedroom.

He found his wife, Lisa, asleep on the bed, her face relaxed and peaceful. Their daughter, Heather, lay peacefully beside her, her thumb nestled in her mouth. Grone gently removed his armor, revealing the simple clothing beneath, before carefully joining them in their sleep. Meanwhile, Tyler, sleeping soundly in his own bed, received a silent system message: Level Up!

Meanwhile, across town near a supermarket, in a dimly lit alleyway, the two men who had shared the wagon with Tyler were violently assaulting the A-rank adventurer who had previously robbed him. They rained blows upon him, their laughter echoing in the confined space. The man groaned in pain, pleading for them to stop. "Why should we?" one of the men sneered, grabbing the victim by the throat and lifting him slightly off the ground. "You think your debt is a joke?" he snarled, before delivering a brutal punch.

"You're owing us forty gold coins," the other man said, his voice dripping with contempt. "And you think we'll just let it go?" The man still choking the victim laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. "Ha! I heard he's been impersonating an A-rank hunter just to rob people around here." Bernardo's eyes widened in surprise, even as he struggled for breath. The man tightening his grip pulled him closer. "You thought we wouldn't know? News spreads. It was only a matter of time before the guards heard about it. And you know what happens when you impersonate an A-rank hunter." The other man joined in the laughter. "Did you actually think that was going to work?"

The man choking Bernardo's hand began to glow red, and Bernardo felt a searing pain as if his neck were twisting. His heart hammered against his ribs; he knew he was about to be burned alive. But then, a sound cut through the air—the distinct clinking of a town guard's boots on the cobblestones. A guard appeared at the alley's entrance. "Hey! What's going on here?"

The man holding Bernardo instantly shifted, trying to appear casual. "Nothing's going on. We're just enjoying some booze with our friend here." The other man was already pretending to hug Bernardo. The guard looked at them and said, "Well, you shouldn't be drinking booze here."

One of the men replied, "Yeah, right. We're headed to the bar soon."

The guard, suspicious, narrowed his eyes. Bernardo looked pale and unwell. He figured it was probably the booze. "Can I have some?" he asked.

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"Sorry, but this is all we have for now," the man said.

"Well, alright," the guard replied, still looking unconvinced.

"You should probably head to the bar then," the guard said, moving on.

The two men turned their attention back to Bernardo. He stumbled backward, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the ground, his head bowing low. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I promise I'll pay you back, I'll figure something out, please just don't kill me!"

One of the men smiled, a cruel, predatory expression. "You could have at least robbed someone and sold their property. What the hell were you thinking?"

The other man crouched down, his face inches from Bernardo's. "Yeah, pretending to be a hunter," he sneered, grabbing Bernardo's hair and forcing him to look up. "What if we give him two days?"

The first man hesitated. "Two days? Isn't that a bit much? Do you really think this guy can pull it off? So far he's given us what? Five gold? This piece of shit can't even make ten gold in that time. You think he'll give us forty in two days?"

"He knows what the price is for not paying up," the other man said, his voice low and menacing.

"He'll probably run away," the first man grumbled.

"Run away?" The man asked his comrade, a glint in his eye. He turned to Bernardo, a chilling smile spreading across his face. "Will you run away, Bernardo?"

Bernardo shook his head frantically. "No, no, no! I won't run away!"

The man looked back at his companion. "See? He said he won't run away."

His comrade scoffed. "Are you stupid? Just because he said that doesn't mean it's true." He pulled out a wicked-looking knife. "Well, Bernardo, looks like my comrade here isn't fine with just letting you go. How about this: we'll remove two of your fingers and then let you go. And if you don't pay us in two days, we'll take off your head."

"Wait—" Bernardo began, but his protest was cut short. He saw a blur of motion, then felt a searing pain as his fingers were severed. They landed on the ground with a soft thud. He tried to scream, but a hand clamped over his mouth. "Shh," the man hissed, his finger pressed to Bernardo's lips. "Do you think screaming is going to help you? If the guard comes here, what do you think will happen?"

Tears streamed down Bernardo's face. The man laughed, a harsh, cruel sound. "Are you crying? Huh, this piece of shit's crying."

The other man, standing a little distance away, spoke up. "Let's let him go for now. If the guard comes back and sees us standing over him with all this blood, he'll be more suspicious."

The man crouching beside Bernardo nodded, rising to his feet. As they started to leave the alley, the man paused, turning back to look at Bernardo. "Two days," he said, his voice a low growl, before disappearing into the darkness.

Bernardo, clutching his bleeding hand, stared after them, his face a mask of shock and despair. He stood up unsteadily, his voice barely a whisper. "What the fuck am I going to do now?"

Bernardo turned and fled in the opposite direction, desperate to avoid any encounter with the guards. His hand throbbed, the blood a steady, crimson stream. He needed to stop the bleeding, and quickly. He melted into the shadows, disappearing as swifly. Time passed. Darkness yielded to light, the sun peeking over the horizon, heralding a new day.

Early in the morning, Tyler sat in a lotus position, feeling the flow of his mana. The sensation was both intensely addictive and frustratingly elusive, demanding unwavering concentration. He yearned to feel it, to control it, until it became as natural as breathing. Maybe this time it would help with his bashing skill. Lost in this meditative practice, he barely registered the door opening until Grone stepped inside. Grone looked at him, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Oh, you're already awake," he said.

Tyler opened his eyes, meeting Grone's gaze. "Good morning," he replied.

"Good morning," Grone echoed. "I have a proposition for you."

"A proposition?" Tyler asked, a questioning look on his face.

"Yes," Grone replied. "How about you come hunting with me?"

"Hunting?" Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Would that be okay? I'm not even a registered hunter yet."

Grone chuckled. "Yeah, it'll be okay. Well, not legally. We'll go to the base, then head into the forest. It didn't look like you had that much of a problem back then, and you've leveled up considerably since. So I don't think you'll have the same issues you did before. So, what do you think?"

"Uh, yeah, I can definitely do that," Tyler said, hopping off the bed.

"Yeah, okay," Grone replied. "I'm already heading to the base now. Oh, and don't forget to put on your armor."

"Uh, about that," Tyler said, a sheepish look on his face, "my armor is gone."

"What do you mean?" Grone asked, his brow furrowing.

"My armor received too much damage, so it disintegrated or something," Tyler explained. "Seems that's what happens if my equipment takes too much damage. It happened to my armor, but I think it could happen to weapons too. Speaking of which, I also lost my iron sword."

"How did that happen?" Grone asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, when I was at the training grounds, I met a monster there," Tyler explained.

Grone was surprised. "You met a monster? In a non-monster zone?"

"Yeah," Tyler confirmed. "It was called an Ellen, or something like that."

Grone considered this. "An Elin? Of course. The only monsters that can be found in non-monster zones are usually flying ones. But it's very rare. The bases close to the monster zones usually take them down before they get too far."

"I heard that it was rare too," Said Tyler.

"Oh really? Where did you hear that from?" Grone asked, intrigued.

"I climbed into a wagon with two other men. I told them about what happened, and they said it was pretty rare and called me unlucky, which is normal, I guess," Tyler replied.

Grone nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'm just glad you're alive. No, at least you're alive. That means it wasn't that much of a level difference, right?"

"It was a level 25," Tyler said.

Grone's eyes widened in surprise. Tyler was an F-rank taking down a level 25 monster was extraordinary.

Grone smiled, a glint in his eye. "My theory was true."

Tyler was confused. "Theory?"

"Yes," Grone confirmed. "Remember when I told you you could have possibly been a lower E-rank?"

"Yeah, I remember that," Tyler said, "but I was G-rank back then."

"Yes, correct," Grone said. "Which means you were G-rank, but almost as strong as a lower E-rank. This means that because you became an F-rank, you're as strong as a higher E-rank hunter, or even a D-rank if you keep leveling up. If you reach E-rank, then you'll be..."

"...as strong as a D-Rank," Tyler finished Grone's sentence, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Yes, I think you're getting it," Grone said, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "This is a very big advantage."

Tyler understood why this was happening. It was likely due to his achievements. Every time the system announced "Achievement Unlocked," his stats would increase, but only specific ones. He hadn't leveled up when that happened, so this was probably the explanation.

"So what are we going to do?" Grone asked. "You don't have armor or a weapon."

"I do have a weapon," Tyler corrected.

Suddenly, two copper daggers shimmered into existence in Tyler's hands, materializing seemingly out of thin air. Grone's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You really do have weapons," Grone said, shaking his head. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"Me neither," Tyler admitted. "It actually took me some time to get used to this."

"What about armor?" Grone asked. "Should we go to Hector's to get you some?"

Tyler shook his head. "I don't think that'll work. I can't use other people's weapons; I probably can't use other people's armor either."

Grone frowned. "Oh, alright. Then where did you get that armor you were wearing? How did you make it?"

"It seems I can make materials from monsters" Tyler said.

"Monsters?" Grone asked, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Yes," Tyler replied, "from monster materials like hides. I know how to make armor from monster materials like hides. I haven't made any weapons from them though."

Grone whistled softly. "Wow, that is a very good skill you have there." He sighed. "Well, too bad you can't go now because you aren't wearing any armor, but how are you going to get it if you don't kill monsters? It seems you have no choice but to come with me."

Tyler smiled slightly. "Yeah."

"But please make sure you don't get hurt, and protect Tyler," Lisa said, a hint of worry in her voice. She gave a small, reassuring smile. Grone nodded. "Don't worry. I'll do my best to protect him. Nothing bad will happen." Then, with a final nod, they left.

Tyler, walking beside Grone, felt a surge of determination. He knew that in time, he wouldn't need anyone's protection—not even Grone's. He would be able to protect himself, to rely solely on his own strength.

They passed Hector's and continued on to the marketplace. Reaching the area where the wagons waited, they were lucky enough to spot George. He was sitting on a wagon, munching on a straw and leaning against the bench. "Ah, it's you two," he greeted them. "Going to the training grounds?"

"No, we're heading to the Crossroads Base," Grone replied.

"Ah, well, hop on then," George said, gesturing to the wagon.

Tyler and Grone climbed into the back of the wagon, and they set off towards the Crossroads Base.