The night after the hunt bled into quiet stillness. Mike returned home with his new armor and weapons, setting them carefully against the wall of his modest quarters. The blade gleamed faintly under the dim light, and the gauntlets still bore faint scratches from beast claws. He stared at them for a moment, exhaling slowly. For the first time, they didn't feel like borrowed tools—they felt like his.
He collapsed onto the bed without ceremony, exhaustion pulling him into dreamless sleep. The silence of the night seemed heavier than usual, but there was comfort in it too.
When morning came, it was not the dawn sun but the subtle vibration of his wristband that stirred him awake. The Light Devils' insignia pulsed on the display—a mission notification.
> Assignment Notice: Basic-tier resource mission.
Objective: Collect beast crystals from Planet Garnis, Zone 3 (Green Zone).
Squad Composition: 5 members.
Supervisor: David Trueman.
Departure: 14:00 hours.
Mike rubbed his face and sat upright. It hadn't even been a full day since his return, and already the faction called for him again. That was the life of a hunter. Rest was a luxury, not a guarantee.
---
By noon, he arrived at the East Wing briefing hall. A smaller group waited this time—four hunters seated casually near the circular table while David stood with arms crossed.
Alex Bredenen waved from across the table. "Didn't think you'd survive yesterday and still show up this fast."
Mike smirked faintly and sat down beside him. "Thought the same about you."
Beside Alex sat Emre Eskov, sharp-eyed and intense, the faint burn scars on his forearms a testament to his fire ability. He gave Mike a brief nod, lips curling into a half-smile that wasn't entirely friendly.
On the other side was Sarah Vion, calm and steady. Her pale eyes glowed faintly as she tapped her wristband, faint translucent barriers shimmering briefly before fading again. Barrier users were rare—Mike had heard whispers that people like her were often scouted directly by high-ranking factions.
David's voice cut through the low chatter. "Good. You're all here. This mission won't be as bloody as yesterday, but don't let that fool you. Zone 3 on Garnis has a dense cluster of basic-tier beasts, and some servant-tier beasts as well—reptilian, insectoid, and aerial. Your task is crystal extraction. Collect as many as you can. Avoid unnecessary fights. I'll be leading, but I want to see how you function as a unit. Clear?"
Everyone nodded.
"Good. Remember—crystals are the backbone of faction logistics. Weapons, armor, cultivation serums—none of it exists without them. Even the smallest shard has value." His eyes lingered on Mike for a moment, as if testing his resolve.
---
Two hours later, the squad boarded a smaller vessel—a compact hunter craft designed for five to ten members. Unlike the massive carrier from the Khalis mission, this ship was tighter, its interior lined with compartments for tools and crystal storage.
As the engines hummed and the ship cut through Earth's upper orbit, Mike leaned against the window, staring at the shrinking blue curve below. He thought of the crystal he had purchased the previous evening. It was dull, low-tier, but it represented possibility. Crystals weren't just fuel for weapons—they were also stepping stones for cultivation. Absorbing them meant growth, refinement, progress.
Planet Garnis loomed ahead within the hour—an emerald world blanketed in forests and lakes, jagged ridges cutting through its surface. It wasn't classified as deadly, but beasts thrived in unpredictable swarms.
The ship touched down in a moss-covered clearing. The hatch hissed open, letting in the scent of damp earth and thick vegetation.
"Stay sharp," David ordered, sword in hand. "We move in pairs. Collect quickly. If you see anything above servant-tier, fall back and regroup."
The group split naturally—Alex with Emre, Sarah with Mike.
---
Mike crouched low, scanning the undergrowth. His new armor fit snugly, the gauntlets giving reassuring weight to his fists. Sarah walked beside him, her barriers flickering faintly whenever the foliage rustled.
It didn't take long. A cluster of reptilian hounds emerged, scales glinting green, eyes glowing faintly with primal hunger.
"On me," Mike muttered.
He dashed forward, sword cleaving through the nearest beast's neck. The others lunged, but Sarah's barrier pulsed outward, slamming two into a tree. Mike finished the third with a gauntlet strike, knuckles enhanced by his ability, crunching into its snout.
Another one leapt from the side. Mike lunged, sword cleaving it neatly in half.
These beasts, barely the size of small alligators, weren't difficult. Their scales were thin, their movements predictable. Against his reinforced sword and gauntlets, it was like cutting through oversized lizards.
He crouched, extracting the faintly glowing crystal from a corpse. It pulsed weakly in his palm, like bottled life. He slipped it into his pouch and moved on.
Elsewhere, fire crackled through the treeline—Emre hurling fireballs into swarming insects, Alex cutting them down with efficient strikes. Occasionally, a flash of David's sword split the forest, reminding them their supervisor was never far.
---
Hours passed. Mike's pouch grew heavier, sweat dripping down his temple. His body ached, but the weight wasn't despair—it was proof. Proof of progress.
As Garnis' sky turned gold, David called the recall signal. The squad regrouped, packs filled with crystals.
"Not bad," David said, glancing at each of them. "You'll learn soon—hunting isn't just about killing. It's survival, logistics, and patience. Don't focus only on the crystals. Remember—danger can be lurking anywhere."
Their wristbands lit up, showing their tallies:
Alex: 15
Sarah: 10
Emre: 20
Mike: 13
Emre grinned widely. "Guess I'm carrying the team."
Alex chuckled. "Don't flatter yourself. Without Sarah's barriers, half of yours would've eaten you alive."
"Still counts," Emre shot back, smirking.
David interrupted. "This time, your share depends on your personal kill tally. You'll receive twenty percent of your crystal contribution. You can collect as credits, or take crystals instead. Dismissed."
Mike's cut was 300 credits. Not much—but enough.
---
That night, he made his decision.
In the training hall, he bought a cleansing potion from the vending machine—a pale vial that shimmered faintly. It was designed to neutralize impurities in beast energy. Absorbing raw crystals was dangerous; the energy carried fragments of the beast's essence, chaotic and wild. Without cleansing, it could corrode the core, or worse—damage the body permanently.
Mike paid 20 credits for the basic-tier serum, then sat cross-legged on the cold floor. In one hand, he held the dull crystal; in the other, the potion.
He drank the serum slowly, its cool taste spreading through him, then closed his eyes. The crystal pulsed faintly as he pressed it to his palm. He guided his inner energy carefully, drawing threads of foreign power into his core.
At first, it was smooth—like inhaling fire that burned but didn't scar. But soon, a sting emerged. Sharp. Restless. His body shook slightly. He stopped, forcing his breath steady. He knew that feeling. His limit.
He sighed, releasing the crystal. His body buzzed faintly with new strength, but there was something else too—something restless and chaotic like a storm waiting deep inside him. He couldn't quite reach it.
---
Three weeks passed.
The days blurred into routine—missions, training, cultivation.
Mike's crystal pouch was rarely empty. He absorbed slowly, carefully, using cleansing serums to temper the foreign energy. With each week, his energy center grew denser, its walls thicker, his control sharper. By the end of the third week, he had advanced to Level 3 of Human Grade.
Eight hunts filled those weeks. Sometimes it was resource extraction, other times culling beast swarms near settlements. His body adapted to the rhythm of combat. His movements grew sharper, his ability control steadier.
His gear also changed—upgraded from basic-tier to servant-tier. The armor was heavier, reinforced with layered plating, but still flexible enough for mobility. The gauntlets crackled faintly when he channeled energy into them, each strike carrying twice the impact of his old ones.
Sparring sessions with Alex filled his evenings. Alex's calm swordplay clashed with Mike's aggressive style.
"You push too hard," Alex warned one evening, parrying a strike. "Control the flow. The fight isn't just about power—it's about patience."
Mike grinned, sweat dripping down his face. "Coming from the guy who hides behind technique?"
Alex smirked. "Technique keeps me alive. Recklessness gets you killed."
David occasionally joined, offering sharp corrections. "Footwork, Jason. You're wasting momentum. Your enemy won't give you time to reset. Every movement counts."
Sarah often watched from the side, arms folded, occasionally stepping in to demonstrate defensive formations.
Through it all, Mike grew—not just in strength, but in awareness. He wasn't the same man who had stepped off the Khalis battlefield weeks ago. He was sharper, steadier, climbing piece by piece.
By the end of those weeks, Mike stood in the training hall again, crystal in hand, armor gleaming faintly under the light. His aura pulsed with new density, his core at Level 3.