The application center for the Shanghai Regional Hunter's Association didn't look like much.
A squat, six-story government building on the edge of the administrative district, hemmed in by cracked sidewalks and a nearby noodle shop. Faded banners fluttered above the entryway, all stamped with slogans like "Protect Humanity with Your Power" and "Awaken, Serve, Excel."
I stood across the street, hoodie up, hands tucked in my sleeves, watching as applicants trickled in and out.
Most looked like they belonged—tall, broad-shouldered men and women in compression gear, faces tense with focus. Some were younger, still teenagers in academy uniforms, chatting nervously in groups. I even saw a few veterans in worn combat jackets, eyes hardened by years in the field.
Me? I looked like someone who'd wandered in from a dead-end job.
I crossed the street anyway.
The lobby was cleaner than I expected—white tile floors, sleek reception counters, glowing blue signage projected from the ceiling.
"Welcome to the Shanghai Regional Hunter's Association," chirped a synthetic voice as I stepped through the motion sensors. "If you are here to register for the Basic Hunter Evaluation, please proceed to the elevators on your right and select Level 3."
No turning back now.
I followed a group of applicants into the elevator. A tall girl with buzzed hair gave me a once-over. "Forgot your uniform?" she asked.
"Didn't get the memo," I muttered.
She smirked and looked away.
When we reached the third floor, the doors opened into a long corridor lined with glass. Inside, evaluation rooms stretched in both directions. Some were filled with strength-testing equipment—weighted dummies, reinforced walls, punching meters. Others had agility courses, reflex timers, or basic spell grids glowing faintly with low-tier mana.
A tired-looking assistant at a nearby desk handed me a clipboard. "Fill this out. No false data. If we find out you lied about your age or Awakening status, you'll be blacklisted from every branch in the province."
"I didn't lie."
"Then you've got nothing to worry about," she said, not bothering to look up.
I sat on a plastic bench and stared at the form.
It was basic. Name, ID number, address. There was a section for known abilities, but I left it blank. There was no option for "I can snap my fingers and rewrite reality."
The only box I checked was the one labeled:
☑ Physical Evaluation Only (No Skill Disclosure)
That earned me a raised eyebrow when I handed it in.
"You're not declaring your skill?"
"No."
"Then you can only qualify up to B-Rank max," she said, deadpan. "Even if you lift a truck with one arm."
"Understood."
She rolled her eyes and sent me down a hall. "Room 17. Strip to your base layer and wait for instructions."
The evaluation room was colder than I expected.
Metal walls. Rubber flooring. A camera in each corner. A single tablet screen mounted near the door.
A guy in a lab coat walked in after a few minutes, holding a datapad. He didn't even look at me.
"Feng Tianlei?" he said.
"Yeah."
"Okay. You opted for Physical Eval only. No skills allowed during the test. You get three trials: strength, speed, reflex. Based on your stats, we'll assign a provisional rank."
"Got it."
"Step on the platform."
The platform was a dull square in the middle of the room. It scanned me from head to toe, projecting faint lights across my limbs.
"Baseline: 174 centimeters. 61 kilograms. No visible augmentation. No guild tattoos. No registered artifacts. Subject appears malnourished."
I raised an eyebrow. "That part necessary?"
The examiner shrugged. "The scanner auto-comments."
"Right."
He tapped his tablet. "Let's begin. First test—punch the reinforced dummy. As hard as you can. No breaks until the red light flashes."
I stepped up to the dummy. It was a humanoid-shaped pillar made of heavy rubber and reinforced alloy. I could see dents from past applicants.
I took a breath.
I didn't enhance my body with mana. I didn't use a skill. I just imagined strength.
Power in my limbs. Muscles surging. Bones like carbon steel. A fighter's force, wrapped into one clean strike.
I whispered it in my head. Then—
Snap.
My fist hit the dummy like a warhammer.
The bang echoed through the room. The dummy didn't just rock—it cracked at the base, and the metal plate beneath it shuddered.
The red light blinked instantly.
The examiner lowered his tablet.
"…Excuse me?"
I stepped back. "Next test?"
The speed trial was worse.
He made me run a straight-line sprint between two motion detectors.
Most people clocked in at around 28 km/h. S-rankers in peak condition hit low 60s.
I imagined speed like wind. Like a predator. Like a lightning bolt through flesh.
Snap.
I dashed.
When I reached the wall, the detector short-circuited.
The examiner stared, slack-jawed.
"You— That— Do it again," he said.
I did.
Slower, this time. Only 80% of what I'd imagined.
Still faster than anyone in the last five years, apparently.
He didn't speak again until we reached the reflex trial. Just handed me a headset and pointed at the lights.
I caught every flash. Every time.
Even the ones that blinked for only a tenth of a second.
When the system printed my results, he read them four times.
Then he said, quietly, "I'm going to need to get my supervisor."
It took two hours for everything to process.
Three more officials came in. A guild representative showed up too—some guy in a silver tie with the symbol of Iron Circle on his lapel.
They all wanted to know who I trained under. What kind of body-enhancement skill I had. If I'd been part of some experimental military program.
I said nothing.
Just filled out the rest of the paperwork, accepted the stamped license, and left.
It was matte black. Sleek. Embedded with a tracking chip.
My name was etched across the bottom.
FENG TIANLEI — LICENSED HUNTER — PROVISIONAL RANK: B
That was it. I was in.
I could now accept official commissions. Enter dungeons. Carry a weapon legally. And—most importantly—claim earnings without anyone questioning where the money came from.
On my way out, the silver-tie guy stopped me near the stairs.
"You've got potential," he said, offering a card. "Iron Circle takes good care of its own. Steady work. Resources. Protection. You don't have to be alone."
I took the card.
Then dropped it in the trash five steps later.
Outside, the city felt different.
The same streets. Same noise. But I walked like I was taller. Like something had shifted.
No more warehouses. No more scrounging for day jobs. I had my license. I had freedom.
And more importantly—
I had options.
Back at the apartment, I logged into the National Dungeon Board.
Quests scrolled past the screen—some for team hunts, others for bodyguard gigs. Most were flooded with applicants.
But a few said "Solo Entry Permitted."
I sorted by difficulty. Clicked "C-Rank."
There it was:
[DUNGEON QUEST – C-RANK SOLO PERMITTED]
Location: Minhang Industrial Zone Subrift
Objective: Clear Rift Core
Estimated Combatants: Goblin variants (Mutated)
Entry Limit: 1
Reward: 30,000 RMB + salvage rights
Time Limit: 4 hours
Note: Rift is unstable; clear ASAP
I clicked Accept.
The screen buzzed.
[CONFIRMATION CODE SENT TO LICENSED DEVICE]
I scanned the QR code with my hunter license. It blinked green.
The system chirped:"Quest Confirmed. You have 24 hours to report to the Rift Gate."
I leaned back in my chair.
Tomorrow, I'd face my first dungeon alone.
But I wasn't afraid.
After all—
I didn't need a team.
I had my hands.
And a snap.