Leroy Fifi had never been good at anything that mattered.
Not in school, not in sports, and definitely not in hunting. He was the kind of hunter the system spat out of its mouth and forgot about—a walking liability with an E-rank badge that barely glowed when scanned. But still, he showed up. Every day. Training, filing for missions no one else wanted. Because giving up was worse than dying.
That morning, the guild hall buzzed with noise. Screens flickered with mission boards, glowing red for C-class and below. Hunters laughed, traded stories, and sipped cheap coffee from the vending machine near the entrance.
Leroy pushed through them quietly, clutching his old dagger in a cracked sheath.
"Oi, Fifi!" A voice called. "You volunteering again? Didn't you almost get your arm ripped off last time?"
He glanced over his shoulder. It was Jess Malone, a D-rank fighter with a messy ponytail and an attitude sharp enough to cut glass. She leaned on the counter beside Ivan, her partner—a tank of a man who looked more like a bouncer than a hunter.
"I'm fine," Leroy said simply, scanning his wristband at the counter. "Any open missions?"
The clerk, barely looking up, slid a holo-tablet toward him. "Plenty of D-class cleanup jobs. Oh, there's one with Andy Casper's team. Abandoned church on the west side. Intel says D-rank phantom, low threat. You could tag along."
Jess snorted. "You? On Andy's team? He'll roast you alive before the phantom does."
Leroy ignored her. "I'll take it."
The clerk blinked. "You sure? That's an overnight run."
"Yeah," Leroy said. "I need the points."
The briefing room smelled of cold metal and disinfectant. Andy Casper, the C-rank leader, stood in front of a flickering screen. He was tall, blonde, and looked like he belonged in a recruitment poster—clean uniform, polished boots, confident smirk. The kind of hunter Leroy could never be.
"All right, listen up," Andy said, tapping the screen. "Target's a D-rank phantom spotted near Saint Isolde's ruins. Locals reported voices and cold zones. Standard exorcism procedure. We go in, clear it, collect the core, and head home."
He looked around at his team—Taro, the scout, wiry and sharp-eyed; Mila, the healer with white braids; Jess and Ivan, the muscle; and Leroy, standing awkwardly near the back.
Andy's eyes narrowed. "You're the E-rank, right?"
"Leroy," he said.
"Right, Leroy. You stick close to Mila. Don't do anything stupid. We're not here to babysit."
"Yes, sir."
Jess leaned over to whisper, "You sure you don't wanna stay behind? We don't need dead weight."
Leroy forced a smile. "I'll manage."
By nightfall, they were on the move.
The ruins of Saint Isolde's looked like a broken jaw against the moonlight—crumbling stone, shattered stained glass, and black vines crawling up its walls. Cold mist coiled around their boots as they entered.
Taro led the way, holding a scanner that hummed with a faint green light. "Temperature drop detected. We're close."
Andy raised his sword, silver runes glowing faintly. "Form up. Mila, stay behind Ivan. Leroy, keep your eyes open."
They stepped inside.
The air was thick, heavy. The pews were overturned, and symbols had been carved into the walls—circles, runes, and claw marks that didn't belong to any known phantom type.
Jess shivered. "Something feels wrong."
"It's a D-rank. Relax," Andy muttered. "They all try to look scary."
Leroy didn't answer. His hand tightened around his dagger. Something about the silence gnawed at him—no whispers, no energy surges, just an eerie calm that felt too controlled.
"Movement," Taro hissed. "Three o'clock!"
A blur shot across the hall. Ivan swung his axe—too late. The shadow slid past, slicing his arm open before vanishing into the dark.
"Contact!" Andy barked. "Spread out!"
Leroy crouched low, heart pounding. The air shifted again. This time, the phantom stepped into the moonlight.
It looked almost human—tall, wearing the remnants of a priest's robe, face hidden behind a cracked porcelain mask. Its eyes burned faintly blue beneath the surface.
Mila whispered, "That's… not a D-rank. Look at the aura!"
Andy scowled. "Don't lose focus!"
He lunged forward, blade flashing. The phantom blocked it effortlessly with one clawed hand, twisting and slamming Andy across the hall. The impact shattered a pew.
"Andy!" Jess screamed.
The phantom's mask tilted. "C-rank… flavor," it rasped, voice like gravel dragged over glass. "Better than I expected."
It moved faster than sight. Taro went down next, throat torn open before he could scream. Blood hit the marble floor.
"Everyone, retreat!" Mila cried. "This isn't—"
The phantom impaled her mid-sentence. Her healing light flickered and died.
Ivan roared, swinging wildly. The axe connected, cleaving into the phantom's shoulder—but it didn't bleed. Instead, it laughed, pushing the blade out of its body like water rejecting a stone.
Jess grabbed Leroy's arm. "We have to move!"
He pulled free. "If we run, it'll hunt us anyway."
"Then what—"
He charged.
No plan. No backup. Just instinct. His dagger met the phantom's claw, sparks flying. His muscles screamed under the impact, but he held ground. Every breath felt like fire, every second a fight not to collapse.
"You're weak," the phantom hissed. "Why resist?"
"Because someone has to," Leroy gritted out.
He ducked under another swipe, slashing the phantom's leg. This time it flinched—barely, but enough. He'd trained for this. Months of physical drills, no magic, no system boosts. Just sweat and grit.
Andy tried to rise, coughing blood. "Leroy—core! The chest!"
Leroy nodded. He feinted left, then drove his dagger straight into the phantom's chest. The blade sank in halfway before the phantom grabbed his wrist and squeezed.
Bones cracked.
Leroy screamed, twisted, and with his free hand grabbed a shard of broken glass from the floor. He jammed it into the phantom's mask, shattering it.
The creature shrieked, stumbling back. For the first time, its composure broke.
Leroy staggered to his feet, bleeding, dizzy. He lunged again—one last strike—piercing the exposed core behind its ribs. The phantom convulsed, light spilling from its chest, then disintegrated into dust.
Silence.
Only the faint hum of his wristband and the soft glow of the cracked dagger remained.
Andy was slumped against a pillar, breathing shallowly. "You… did it," he whispered.
Leroy knelt beside him. "Save your strength. We'll—"
Andy shook his head. "No saving… this time." His hand fell limp.
Leroy sat there for a long moment, staring at the empty church. The smell of blood and burned ether filled the air.
Then he heard it—the whirring of transport drones.
Emergency units poured in through the windows, their armor shining white with purification sigils.
"Survivor found!" one shouted. "Single life sign!"
They surrounded him, scanning the area. "Multiple casualties. Phantom core confirmed… C-class."
A senior officer approached, visor glinting. "You're the only survivor? What's your name?"
"Leroy Fifi," he said hoarsely.
The officer looked at the core residue, then back at Leroy. "You're saying you exorcised a C-rank? Alone?"
"I didn't have a choice."
The man studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Under regulation, that qualifies you for a rank reassessment. Congratulations, Hunter Fifi. You're now C-class."
Leroy blinked. The words didn't feel real.
Behind the officer, medics zipped up black body bags—one for each of them: Andy, Mila, Taro, Jess, Ivan.
He didn't feel triumphant. Just tired.
As they led him out into the cold night, the ruins behind him began to glow faintly blue—the last whisper of a phantom's soul fading away.
Leroy looked back once. "Rest easy," he murmured.
The officer glanced at him. "What was that?"
"Nothing," Leroy said softly. "Just saying goodbye."
Two days later, the Hunter Association posted an official notice:
C-Class Phantom Exorcised by Leroy Fifi, E-Rank Hunter of Dawnlight Guild.
Four Hunters and One Team Leader Confirmed Deceased.
The article spread fast across the networks. Comment sections buzzed with disbelief.
No way an E-rank took down a C.
He must've cheated.
Cover-up, obviously.
Leroy didn't read the comments. He just stared at his new ID card, the glowing "C" etched beneath his name.
From the outside, it looked like a victory.
Inside, it felt like the beginning of something darker.