The Wilson Family Manor
The next morning, Max woke up feeling refreshed and energized. For once, he wasn't weighed down by worry. He had found a path to grow stronger without drawing too much attention—power with privacy. Not bad, he thought smugly.
He stretched and strolled lazily to the bathtub for a refreshing soak.
Ten minutes later, freshly bathed, he stood before the mirror. His satisfaction quickly froze into shock.
Covering his back was a tattoo that hadn't been there before. A dragon—golden, majestic, coiling with terrifying authority. Its body spanned across his shoulders, its glowing tail curling around his waist like a golden whip. The lines glimmered like runes, pulsing faintly as though alive.
Max blinked. Then blinked again.
"…System, what the hell is this? It looks like I joined some underground mafia. Should I start asking people to 'pay tribute'?"
[…]
"Oi, don't play dead on me. You really have nothing to say? I just woke up with a glowing dragon on my back! You think this is normal? I feel like a tattooed gangster who gets free drinks at divine nightclubs!"
[…]
"You're seriously useless."
[Penalty issued. Bone ache—two minutes.]
"Wha—wait, penalty for WHAT—AAAAHHHHHHH!"
Agonizing pain lanced through his bones. Max doubled over, sweat pouring down his face.
"Damn you, System! I hope you stay single forever! May you never find a female system to flirt with!"
[Duration increased to five minutes.]
Max nearly fainted. He wanted to scream, to curse, but bit down on his tongue. This system is insane… completely insane.
[Do you want me to increase the pain?]
His eyes went wide. "Y-you can hear my thoughts?!"
[Of course, blockhead. I live in your consciousness. What, did you think I rent an apartment somewhere in your brain and mind my business?]
"…You're unbelievable." Max's lips twitched violently as he endured five long minutes of bone-crushing pain.
Finally, the system spoke again, smug as ever:
[Listen carefully. Only when you reach Gold Rank will you be able to command your sea of consciousness. Then, and only then, can you hide your thoughts from me—or even weaponize them. Until then, your brain is basically public property. My property, to be precise.]
Max ground his teeth. "Public property, my ass…"
[What was that?]
"NOTHING!" he shouted, forcing a smile through his twitching lips.
When the pain finally ended, Max staggered back to the bath to wash away his sweat. He changed into fresh clothes, slid on his mask, and sighed.
"Alright… let the day begin.
~~~~
The aroma of freshly baked bread and spiced meat lingered in the air as Max walked into the Wilson family dining room. The long table gleamed with polished silverware, and trays of food were arranged in a way that could rival noble banquets.
Alex and Scarlett were already seated, chatting softly as they ate. Scarlett, dressed in a simple but elegant morning gown, smiled when she noticed Max's arrival. Alex, on the other hand, waved lazily with a mouth half-stuffed with bread.
Max sat down at the empty chair opposite them, the steam from the food wafting into his face. His stomach growled almost immediately. "Guess I came at the right time," he muttered, grabbing a plate.
"Good morning, Max," Scarlett said warmly.
"Morning." He returned her smile before digging in. The food was heavenly, far beyond what he had back home. He couldn't help but sigh with satisfaction after his first bite.
For a while, they exchanged pleasantries and light chatter while eating. Then, Scarlett suddenly asked:
"Max, are you planning to enroll in the academy examinations coming up soon? If you are, Alex and I can help you register."
Max paused, setting his fork down. His eyes hardened slightly, but his tone remained calm.
"I'll participate. But as for the money… I'll handle it myself. I don't want it to feel like I'm leeching off you guys."
Scarlett opened her mouth to argue, but Max's steady expression made her close it again. Alex glanced at him, then shrugged with a grin.
"Well, suit yourself. But at least let us cheer for you when you pass."
Max smirked faintly. "That, I'll allow."
Alex leaned back in his chair. "Alright, then. How about this? After breakfast, we head to the city library. Didn't you say you wanted to know more about this world?"
Max's eyes lit up. "Yes. Let's do that."
After breakfast, Max and Alex left the Wilson Manor on foot, deciding to enjoy the scenery instead of taking a hover car.
The city streets were bustling with activity. Vendors shouted their wares, children darted between carriages, and the faint scent of roasted meat drifted from food stalls.
Max's gaze roamed curiously. "Alex, what's the fastest way to make money in this city?"
Without hesitation, Alex replied, "Being a gigolo."
Max nearly tripped. "...Do I look like the type of man who'd do that?"
Alex gave him a once-over and smirked. "If you said no, no one would believe you."
Max's eyebrow twitched. "You're asking for a beating."
Alex chuckled. "Fine, fine. Let me be serious. The fastest way to make money without shady business is either joining the Hunter's Guild or the Supernatural Court. Both are lucrative… but also dangerous, depending on your skills and what jobs you accept."
That caught Max's attention. "Hunter's Guild? Supernatural Court? Explain."
Alex adjusted his collar like a lecturer about to begin class.
"The Hunter's Guild is an organization that deals with magical beasts. They accept contracts to eliminate beasts threatening towns or to harvest rare materials. Hunters are graded by ranks and given points based on how efficiently they complete tasks. The more points, the higher your rank, the better the rewards."
Max nodded slowly. "Sounds like mercenary work."
"Exactly," Alex said. "But with more rules and less stabbing each other in the back. Well… most of the time."
He continued:
"The guild also buys beast materials directly from hunters—fangs, scales, bones, essence crystals—and sells them to craftsmen, merchants, and other organizations. Almost all advanced tech, weapons, and equipment you see are crafted from beast materials. Without hunters, civilization would collapse in a year."
Max frowned thoughtfully. "So the stronger the beast, the more valuable the materials."
"Right." Alex's tone grew serious. "But also, the more dangerous. Magical beasts aren't just animals—they're nightmares with claws. Many hunters never return from high-level hunts."
Max absorbed the information in silence, his mind already weighing options. The Academy exams, the Hunter's Guild, his own mysterious system… everything tied back to one thing—strength.
He clenched his fists. If I want to survive in this world, I need to grow stronger, faster.
As they turned a corner, a group of armored hunters walked past, carrying a massive beast's carcass on a hover-sled. Its scales glimmered faintly, and its fangs were as long as swords. The air itself felt heavy around it.
Max's dragon tattoo gave a faint, almost imperceptible glow beneath his clothes.
He shivered.
'System… what was that?'
[Nothing you need to know yet. Unless you want a bone-ache penalty.]
"…You're the worst."
[Correction: I'm the best. You're just too dumb to appreciate me.]
Max's lips twitched, but he said nothing. Alex glanced at him curiously. "What's with that face?"
"...Nothing," Max replied quickly.
But deep inside, he knew the tattoo had reacted to that beast corpse—and that wasn't "nothing."