Breeze quickened his steps, feeling a creeping unease as he returned to the harsh reality he hadn’t missed for even a moment. Shaking off his nerves, he reminded himself that he had to succeed—not for his own sake, nor his mission, but for the one waiting on his path. Suddenly, a sharp gasp from nearby caught his attention—it was an old woman gossiping with others.

"Did she really do that?"

"What a shameless…Oh."

"Look! Look at that handsome youth…"

He ignored them and strode forward, focused on reaching the MES. His life had always been about facing one obstacle after another, so he prepared himself for the worst. Avoiding the narrower alleys where shady eyes watched him from the shadows, he opted for the main streets, even if it took longer—it was safer.

When he arrived at the Monster Extermination Society (MES), his eyes widened. It was immense, divided into six bustling sections: a hall for registering hunters and other jobs, a market for buying, selling, or trading, a vast training ground for honing skills and sparring, a library filled with knowledge on monsters, herbs, weapons, etc., a smithy for creating, sharpening, and repairing items, and an apothecary ruled by a Herbalist—something many people didn’t know about. It was a storm of sights, sounds, and smells, both familiar and foreign. The hall teemed with hunters, each bearing scars, armor, and an unmistakable aura of both confidence and danger. The merchants didn’t seem much different, with two-faced grins and a keen sense of opportunity.

Taking his first steps inside, Breeze instantly felt the weight of everyone’s gaze. The hunters, both male and female, assessed him with looks ranging from envy to admiration, and a few whispers rose around him. His presence—his face, his youth, and his ordinary clothes—were drawing far too much attention.

“What are you doing here, brat?” a gruff voice sneered. “This ain’t a place for some pampered mama’s boy!”

Sigh, I wish I were a pampered mama’s boy. I don’t even remember my mother clearly.

Another voice cut through the laughter. “Shut up, you gorilla! Who let you talk to this handsome lad that way?”

“Who are you calling a gorilla, old bones? You were practically drooling when you saw ‘fresh meat’ walk in!”

“Old bones?” The woman cackled, turning to Breeze with a smile. “He means ‘gold__en bones,’ my boy. You know, I’m insanely precious—you can only measure my value by a gold balance,” she said sweetly. Then, turning back to her antagonist with a horrific grin, she added, “Oh, and you ancient gorilla, prepare yourself for your funeral today!”

In an instant, tables were shoved aside as the crowd made room for the fight. Breeze looked on in amazement. The older man, Bernard, swung a massive two-handed axe with surprising ease, launching heavy strikes. But he couldn’t touch Sayah, his nimble opponent, who danced around the attacks, her tekko-kagi claws glinting—crafted, it seemed, from Dread Monster materials.

While they were preoccupied, Breeze slipped away and approached the receptionist, a stern-looking man who barely glanced up.

“Excuse me, but isn’t it forbidden to fight here?” Breeze asked.

The receptionist finally looked up with a shrug. “Technically, yeah. But as long as no one dies and they cover any damages, it’s allowed. Training grounds are for duels and life-and-death challenges—in other words, serious matters. So, what can I do for you?”

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“I’d like to register as a hunter,” Breeze replied.

The receptionist handed him a form. “Fill this out, then head to the training grounds for some tests. Don’t worry about getting rejected; we don’t do that here. The test just gauges your capabilities.”

Breeze hesitated. “Could… you fill it out for me?”

The man’s eyebrow lifted. “Can’t write?”

Breeze looked away, feigning embarrassment.

“Fine. Your name?”

“Breeze.”

“Age?”

“Hm… how old do I look?”

The receptionist sighed. “You don’t know your age? Didn’t your parents tell you?”

“I… I can’t say exactly. I’m… an orphan,” Breeze mumbled, glancing down.

What Breeze said could be interpreted as him not knowing, but what he meant was that he didn’t want to say. He didn’t want to be rejected just for the reason that he was 10 years old.

The receptionist softened a bit, estimating. “Sixteen, maybe a little older. We’ll put you down for that.” He handed Breeze a slip. “Take this to the training grounds.”

Nice, I’m older than Samar now. She’ll get shocked once she finds out.

Breeze thanked him and made his way to the open training ground, which was dotted with all kinds of weapons and training dummies. At the center, a man leaned against his sword, yawning. Breeze approached him nervously.

“Are you the examiner?”

“Hmm… Yeah, that’s me. I’m Inspector Mark, and I don’t give out free marks. Show me what you’ve got.” He tossed Breeze a training sword and gestured to an empty spot. “First task: attack that dummy like your life depends on it.”

Though more skilled with daggers, Breeze gripped the sword with a calming breath, reminding himself of the basics his father had taught him. He launched forward, each strike aimed with precision. But as he stepped back, he saw Mark’s unimpressed frown.

“Not bad. It’s clear you’re used to sparring, but you’re still lacking,” Mark said. “Out there, monsters are merciless. They dodge, counter, deceive.” Mark stepped forward, taking a stance. “Now, show me you can fight back.”

Before Breeze could react, Mark’s attacks began, rapid and unpredictable. Breeze managed to parry, just barely keeping pace. Every blow tested his strength and reflexes, forcing him to anticipate movements with split-second accuracy. Finally, Mark pulled back with a grudging smile.

“Not bad,” he admitted. “You’re tougher than you look, but don’t let it go to your head. Most don’t survive their first few quests. Keep your guard up. And heed my advice: no one can survive alone in the wilderness.”

Breeze nodded, his chest heaving, a feeling of satisfaction bubbling inside. I didn’t expect to be this quick or flexible. He recalled his father mentioning that creatures of Unknown type often passed down mysterious abilities and wondered if he’d inherited one from their last encounter.

Let me check if my thought was correct. All I have to do is think about it deeply, and I’ll instinctively know it.

Acquired Skill: Cat’s Nimbleness. He felt it instinctively—the reflexes, agility, and balance he had in combat.

Mark interrupted his thoughts. “If you’re low on gear, head to the merchants. They’ll set you up with basic equipment free of charge. It won’t be top quality, but it’ll do for hunting Wild Beasts.”

“Thank you. That’s perfect.”

At the merchant section, Breeze asked for a light set of armor, a sword, dual daggers, and a Kunai Rope Dart. “Rope made from metal, if possible,” he added. The merchant’s eyebrow shot up.

“Yeah, and a suite in the noble’s castle, too,” he scoffed. “Pick one weapon, newbie. This isn’t a charity.”

“But Inspector Mark told me I could take what I needed,” Breeze countered.

The merchant huffed. “Did he, really? That Mark… He’s not one to play favorites.” With a resigned sigh, he handed Breeze the items. “Here. Don’t expect freebies next time.”

Mark wasn’t just an examiner; he was one of the strongest knights of Arlen Bastion. His authority surpassed that of any examiner, but Breeze was oblivious to this truth.

“Thank you. I’ll put them to good use.”

Breeze moved to the changing room, fastening the light armor, arranging the weapons on his belt, and wrapping the chain around his right arm. Looking at his reflection, he grinned. “Not bad. I look like a ninja.” Taking a final glance, he turned toward the quest board, excitement and a touch of anxiety filling his chest. Just one easy quest, he thought. Let’s evaluate my strengths.