The bar hit the floor with a satisfying clang. I stood there, chest heaving, sweat dripping down my neck in rivulets.
I grabbed a towel and wiped my face, flopping down onto the bench with a grunt. My muscles burned in that perfect way that meant Iâd pushed them right to the edge. Everything ached. Good.
But my mind wasnât on my deadlifts or my burning quads. It was on Natalia.
She actually did it. Drew a line in the sand. A queenâs decree.
No sex until we reached the academy. A reasonable boundary, given our nosy-ass parents. But it wasnât the boundary itself that impressed meâit was how sheâd delivered it.
My little tsundere is growing a spine of steel.
I hadnât argued. What would be the point? I wasnât some horny teenager who couldnât keep it in his pants for a few weeks. Well, technically I was in the body of one, but my mind was far older. Iâd learned long ago that sometimes stepping back was the smartest play.
Besides, watching Natalia transform from that prideful, insecure girl into a woman who could stand toe-to-toe with me... it was fucking magnificent. Like watching a sword being forged in real time.
I picked a good one. A real queen.
A competitive fire lit in my gut. I couldnât let her outpace me. What kind of king gets outdone by his queen? Time to accelerate my own growth.
"Nel," I said to the empty room. "Status."
The blue holographic screen shimmered into existence before me, hovering at eye level. My status window appeared first, displaying my attributes in neat rows.
SATORI NAKANO
Level: 1 | Title: None | Class: None | Schema Points: 85
ATTRIBUTES:
Strength: D-283 Endurance: D-301
Dexterity: D-218 Magic: F-137
Agility: D-233
The numbers had grown, but they were still a joke. A Level 1 D-rank. In a world of city-destroying monsters, I was armed with a plastic spoon.
"Alright, Nel," I said, leaning forward. "What is the single fastest way to increase my raw attributes?"
The screen flickered, and Nelâs cool, feminine voice filled my mind.
[Query acknowledged. I am authorized to provide strategic information regarding optimal progression pathways.]
The status screen dissolved, replaced by a sleek tutorial interface with three distinct sections.
[The Primary Paths of Power]
[Path 1: Physical Training â The Grind]
[Method: Repetitive physical exertion]
[Efficiency: Low. Provides minor, incremental gains. Suitable for baseline development but inefficient for rapid growth]
[Entertainment Value: Minimal. The Audience tires of training montages]
[Path 2: SP Allocation â The Buy-In]
[Method: Direct conversion of Schema Points to attributes]
[Efficiency: Moderate. Provides guaranteed, immediate gains. Cost-prohibitive for high-level growth]
[Entertainment Value: Low. A transaction is not a story]
[Path 3: Gate Clearing â The Hunt]
[Method: Defeating Gate-spawned entities]
[Efficiency: High. Each defeated monster provides a direct, significant boost to attributes, proportional to its rank and the difficulty of the kill]
[Entertainment Value: Maximum. Combat, risk, and victory are the cornerstones of a compelling narrative]
Makes sense. Kill monsters, get stronger. Classic RPG mechanics.
But something was missing.
"Wait a minute," I said, tapping my chin. "What about daily quests? Donât System users in all those trashy webnovels get daily quests? âDo 100 push-ups, get 5 stat points,â that kind of thing?"
Nelâs voice took on an amused, almost condescending tone.
[Your Patron, Apollo, finds such mechanics... pedestrian. He believes a true protagonist does not need a checklist to be motivated. The drive for power should be inherent.]
The interface showed a chibi Apollo with his arms crossed, looking down his nose with aristocratic disdain.
[Furthermore, he correctly surmised that a Host of your... particular moral flexibility... would find a way to abuse such a system to the point of breaking the narrativeâs pacing. Therefore, you have no daily quests.]
Heâs not wrong.
"Fair enough," I conceded. "So Gates are my best bet. Kill monsters, get stronger. Simple enough."
[However,] Nel continued, [your Patron is not without a sense of fairness. This System does reward dedication. Repetitive, focused action can, over time, manifest as a unique "Developmental Ability." These are passive skills that increase the efficiency of a specific action. They can be ranked up through continued practice.]
A new window appeared, displaying an example:
[If a Host were to, for example, dedicate significant time to swordsmanship, they might unlock the Developmental Ability: [Basic Swordsmanship - F Rank]. Continued practice could evolve it to [Intermediate Swordsmanship - D Rank], granting faster skill acquisition and improved instincts with a blade.]
My eyes widened as I realized the implications. I couldnât get free stats daily, but I
could
create my own passive growth multipliers. The more I did something, the better and faster I got at it, permanently.
"So itâs a system built for specialization," I mused. "The deeper I go into a specific skill or activity, the more efficiently I can grow in that area."
[Correct. Your Patron believes in rewarding mastery, not checkbox completion.]
A grin spread across my face. Gates. That was the answer. I needed to get into dungeons, fight monsters, and grow stronger through combat. The perfect solution for someone like me, who thrived in chaos and violence.
I rose from the bench, a new fire of ambition burning in my chest. Iâd find a low-level Gate, something manageable for my current abilities, and start the grind. With each kill, Iâd grow stronger. With each dungeon cleared, Iâd move one step closer to becoming a true power in this world.
And then my eyes fell on my wrist.
The sleek, silver VHC monitoring bracelet clasped around it gleamed under the gymâs lights. A tiny, almost invisible green light blinked steadily, a constant reminder that I was being watched. My excitement evaporated like water on hot coals.
Shit. The bracelet.
Washingtonâs words echoed in my memory:
"It records your Aspect usage and biometric responses."
The implications hit me like a bucket of ice water. If I went into a Gate and started fighting, my heart rate would spike, my adrenaline would surge, and all of it would be recorded. If I used [Sever] or any of my other abilities, the bracelet would detect the energy signature.
I sank back onto the workout bench, staring at the bracelet.
I couldnât grind in Gates. I couldnât hunt monsters. I couldnât grow through combatânot without exposing myself as something far different from what I claimed to be.
Iâm more powerful than ever, and completely neutered.
I flexed my fingers, watching the play of muscles under my skin. This body had so much potential, but I was hamstrung by this technological leash around my wrist.
"Nel," I said quietly. "What would happen if I tried to remove this bracelet?"
[Attempting to remove, damage, or interfere with VHC monitoring equipment is a Class-3 felony under Hunter Regulatory Code 17.5. Detection of tampering will trigger an immediate dispatch of VHC security personnel.]
"And if I were to, say, use abilities not consistent with my registered Aspect while wearing it?"
[Data inconsistencies in monitored Aspect usage are flagged for manual review by VHC Insight Division analysts. Significant discrepancies may trigger an investigation, potentially resulting in revocation of Hunter privileges and/or criminal charges for Aspect Fraud.]
Perfect. Just
fucking
perfect.
I took a slow, deep breath. Then another. Panicking was a luxury for people who werenât in a cage. Rule one of my old life: every leash has a handler, and every handler can be broken. The rules werenât the problem. The ones who wrote them were.
"Okay," I muttered. "So I canât hunt in Gates. Not yet. But I can still build Developmental Abilities through practice. I can still convert SP to attributes when I earn it. And I can still build my court."
I tapped the bracelet thoughtfully. "And most importantly, I can find a way around this. There has to be a way to mask my readings, or feed it false data, or..."
My thoughts trailed off as an idea began to form. The VHC wasnât omnipotent. They were an organization, and all organizations had flaws. Blind spots. Corrupted individuals. Politics and bureaucracy.
"Nel," I said. "I need to know everything about the VHCâs monitoring systems. Every detail you have."
[Such information would be highly advantageous to your progression. However, it comes with a cost. The Audience appreciates a protagonist who works for their knowledge.]
"Let me guess. A quest?"
[Precisely. Would you like to accept the special quest: âKnow Thy Enemyâ?]
Apollo and his fucking game show mechanics.
"Yes. I accept."