The air in the apartment still seemed to hold the faint, expensive scent of Elara's perfume, a stark contrast to the usual smells of boiled lentils and polish. Her visit had been a tremor, a shift in the tectonic plates of my carefully constructed world of shadows. The "phantom" had been acknowledged, not by name, but by action. And she had delivered a message that echoed in the silent spaces of my mind: a city-wide talent re-evaluation.
Aunt Maria was practically floating, her earlier fears about my F-Rank status buried under a giddy excitement that the Vance heiress herself had graced our home. "She was so concerned for you, Leon! Maybe... maybe there's still a chance for you. You should go to the re-evaluation. What if something has changed?"
I gave her a non-committal nod, my mind already racing through the probabilities, the risks, and the tantalizing rewards. This was the inciting incident for the next phase of my journey. It was an opportunity, a trap, and a test, all wrapped in one.
Later, secluded in my room, I focused inward. The data-stream landscape of my mind was more vibrant than ever. The [Mana Core Circuit] was progressing, a delicate, luminous latticework slowly forming around my natural, underdeveloped channels. It was at 0.4% now. A snail's pace, but it was progress. More importantly, my skills continued their silent, relentless ascent.
[Fist of the Boulder (C-Rank) - Passive Progression: 31%]
[Spatial Slash (A-Rank) - Passive Progression: 8%]
[Aegis of the Loyal (A-Rank) - Passive Progression: 22%]
[Phoenix's Embrace (S-Rank) - Passive Progression: 5%]
The S-Rank skill's growth was slower, but the fact that it was moving at all without any input from me was staggering. I had the power. I was amassing an army. But I was still its general, trapped in a tent, unable to lead without revealing my position.
The re-evaluation was the key. If I could control the narrative, if I could stage a "breakthrough" that was believable, it would provide a perfect cover for any future, public displays of power. I wouldn't be a mysterious phantom; I would be a late-bloomer, a beneficiary of the crisis. It was a classic Webnovel trope for a reason—it worked.
But the risk was monumental. The evaluation would be conducted by high-ranking Guild officials and system specialists. Could they detect the [Eye of the Mimic]? Would they see the hundreds of dormant skills orbiting my being? Would they notice the nascent Mana Core Circuit that defied all known magical theory?
It was a gamble. A high-stakes bet where the prize was a legitimate place in the world, and the cost was everything.
The next day, I joined the long, snaking queue outside the Central Guild Hall. The atmosphere was a mixture of desperate hope and cynical resignation. These were the F-Ranks, the D-Ranks, the ones the system had left behind. We were the dregs, hoping the storm had stirred up something worthwhile from the bottom.
I saw Jax in the line, his D-Rank Brawler aura still faintly visible to my sight. He sneered when he saw me. "Look who's here. Think falling in an alley upgraded you to an E-Rank, Grey?"
I ignored him, playing my part. The weak, ignored F-Rank. But inside, I was a fortress of concentration. I was using the time in line to practice. Not activating skills—that was still too dangerous—but practicing control. I focused on the [Eye of the Mimic] itself, trying to will its visibility, its very presence, deeper into the hidden layers of my being. I imagined building mental walls around my core, masking the shimmering data-stream with a facade of mundane, F-Rank static.
It was exhausting, mental gymnastics of the highest order. By the time I reached the front of the line, a fresh headache was brewing behind my eyes.
The evaluation chamber was stark white, dominated by a more advanced, complex version of the Awakening Crystal. A stern-faced woman in Guild robes and a man with data-scrolls hovering around him stood waiting.
"Leon Grey. Previously assessed F-Rank," the woman said, her voice devoid of warmth. "Place your hand on the crystal. The system will perform a deep diagnostic to check for any latent potential triggered by the recent mana surge from the breach."
This was it. The moment of truth. I took a steadying breath and placed my palm on the cold, polished surface.
The crystal lit up, its light probing, invasive. I felt it, a cold tendril of energy slithering through my mana channels. It was searching. I focused everything I had on my mental fortress, on projecting an image of absolute, unremarkable normality.
The crystal pulsed grey. F-Rank. Then it flickered.
A blip of blue. Then green. For a single, heart-stopping second, a flash of gold.
The Guild officials straightened up, their eyes widening. The man with the data-scrolls frowned, tapping furiously at his device. "Anomaly detected. Fluctuating energy signature. Inconsistent with standard F-Rank parameters. It's... chaotic. Unreadable."
My heart hammered against my ribs. Chaotic. Unreadable. That was better than "SSS-Rank Abomination Detected." It was confusion, not discovery.
The woman leaned closer. "The system is detecting... a potential catalyst, but the vessel is incompatible. It's like trying to pour an ocean into a cracked cup. The energy is there, but it has no conduit, no focus."
They were seeing the aftermath of the mana backlash. They were seeing the cracked cup, not the ocean itself. They were witnessing the limitations of my F-Rank body, not the boundless potential of my hidden skill.
The crystal's light stabilized back to a steady, dull grey.
"Result: Inconclusive," the man announced, sounding frustrated. "Potential is present but dormant and structurally inaccessible. Classification remains: F-Rank."
A wave of relief so powerful it left me dizzy washed over me. I had passed. I had hidden in plain sight. The gamble had paid off.
But as I turned to leave, the woman spoke again, her voice lower. "Wait."
I froze.
She walked up to me, her eyes sharp and analytical. "The reading was strange, boy. But 'strange' is more interesting than 'hopeless'. The Blackwood Vanguard is always looking for... unique cases for support roles. We have a training program for individuals with anomalous readings. It's dangerous. The attrition rate is high. But it's a path."
This was an unexpected twist. A direct invitation from a Guild, not as a Hunter, but as a lab rat, a "unique case." It was a path into the system, a way to get resources, training, and access to even more skills—all under the guise of being a fascinating failure.
It was another crossroad. The safe, anonymous life of a civilian, or the dangerous, watched life of a Guild's pet project.
I met her gaze, no longer looking away like a scared F-Rank. I let her see a glimmer of the resolve that lay beneath the surface.
"I'm interested," I said, my voice steady.
A slow smile touched her lips. "Good. Report to the Blackwood Vanguard barracks tomorrow at dawn."
As I walked out of the Guild Hall, the sun felt warmer on my skin. I was still an F-Rank on paper. But I had just been handed a key. The phantom was being offered a uniform. The road to lordhood had just found its first official, and very dangerous, on-ramp.