The explosion wasn't a sound. It was a sensation—like someone had taken the dull, gray static of Kai's life and cranked the resolution to 4K.
Kai didn't move. He couldn't. He was still slumped against the rusted pull-up bar in the "Old Yard," but the world had shifted. The smell of damp earth was sharper; the distant hum of the academy's mana-generators felt like a low-frequency song playing against his skin.
"Okay," Kai whispered, his voice trembling as he stared at the air in front of him. "Either I'm having a very high-budget stroke, or the universe just gave me a premium subscription."
The blue system window—the one every person in the world saw as the absolute authority on their worth—was gone. In its place floated a screen of liquid gold, the light so soft it didn't hurt his eyes, yet so intense it made the sunlight look dim.
[System Reboot Complete.] [True Name: Growth Potential] [Rank: F (Evolutionary Type)] [Origin: The Void of Infinity]
[The World's Error:] Society perceives 'Growth Potential' as a slow-drip faucet. [The Hidden Truth:] You are not a faucet. You are an ocean being poured into a tea cup.
[Talent Mechanic Unlocked: Absolute Tracking] Every effort, no matter how small, is now quantified. There is no 'waste.' There is no 'plateau.' There is only the climb.
"An ocean in a tea cup," Kai muttered, a hysterical giggle bubbling up in his throat. "That explains why my head feels like it's about to pop. My tea cup is definitely cracked."
He looked down at the new status window. It was far more detailed than the government-standard version.
[Name: Kai Rowan] [Current Rank: F] [Talent Progress: 0.01% / 100.00% (To E-Rank)]
[Attributes] Strength: 5.0001 Agility: 5.0000 Intelligence: 6.0000 Stamina: 5.0002
[Current Action: Recovery] [Growth Potential EXP +0.0001%]
Kai stared at the decimals. In the standard system, stats only moved in whole numbers, usually after months of agonizing work or a sudden "Rank Up." But here, he was seeing the invisible. He was seeing the literal atoms of his progress.
"0.01% progress to the next rank," Kai said, his eyes narrowing. "Wait. If the talent itself has a progress bar, does that mean... I can change my rank whenever I want? No Awakening Orb needed?"
He stood up, his legs feeling oddly light. The "0.01% in ten years" description from the ceremony wasn't a curse; it was a cloaking device. It was what happened when a world designed for limits tried to measure something limitless.
He looked at the pull-up bar again. "Let's see if we can water this seed."
He jumped. His hands gripped the iron. Pull.
[Action: Muscle Contraction (Strength/Stamina focus)] [Strength +0.0002] [Stamina +0.0001] [Growth Potential EXP +0.001%]
Pull.
[Growth Potential EXP +0.001%]
Pull. Pull. Pull.
Kai went into a frenzy. He didn't care about form. He didn't care about the sweat stinging his eyes. For the first time in eighteen years, the "void" was talking back. Every time his chin cleared the bar, a tiny chime echoed in his mind—the sound of a wall being chipped away.
By the time he hit thirty, his muscles were screaming, but the gold screen was dancing with notifications.
[Growth Potential EXP +0.03%] [Strength: 5.0124]
"I'm doing it," he panted, dropping to the ground. "I'm actually doing it. I just did in three minutes what the Headmaster said would take me three years."
He was so engrossed in the glowing numbers that he didn't notice the temperature in the yard drop. He didn't notice the way the weeds around the concrete began to crystallize with a fine layer of frost.
"You're still here."
Kai jumped, nearly tripping over a rusted dumbbell. He swiped the golden screen away—it vanished instantly—and looked up.
Elena Frost was standing five feet away. She wasn't looking at him with the same clinical curiosity as before. This time, she looked... bothered. Her brow was furrowed, and her hand was resting lightly on the hilt of the ornamental training rapier at her hip.
"Elena," Kai said, trying to steady his breathing. He wiped sweat onto his shirt, leaving a streak of grime. "Back so soon? I haven't even had time to grow a full inch yet. You're ruining the suspense."
Elena didn't laugh. She didn't even acknowledge the joke. She stepped forward, and the frost on the ground followed her like a loyal pet.
"There was a mana spike," she said, her voice sharp. "The academy's detection array picked up a resonance in the Old Yard. It was faint, but the signature was... unusual."
"A mana spike? Here?" Kai looked around with exaggerated wonder. "Maybe the rust is finally becoming sentient. Or maybe it was just my sheer, raw charisma hitting a new peak. It's a burden, really."
Elena's eyes swept over him. She paused at his hands—the blisters he'd had minutes ago were already beginning to flatten, the skin turning a healthy pink.
"Your mana signature is still F-rank," she murmured, almost to herself. "But the air around you is... different. It feels like a vacuum. Like something is trying to pull the energy out of the atmosphere."
Kai felt a cold sweat that had nothing to do with exercise. She's an S-rank, he reminded himself. She can feel the 'hunger' of the growth talent.
"It's called 'The Scent of Hard Work,' Elena. You might not recognize it since you were born with a silver blizzard in your mouth."
Elena's eyes flashed—a momentary spark of sapphire light. "Don't push your luck, Kai. An F-rank talent doesn't cause a resonance. If you're using illegal stimulants or prohibited mana-stones to fake progress, the Disciplinary Committee will—"
"I'm not faking anything," Kai interrupted, his tone losing its sarcastic edge. He stood his ground, ignoring the chill radiating from her. "I'm doing exactly what my talent says. I'm growing. It's just... I decided to stop being 'patient' about it."
Elena stared at him. The silence stretched between them, heavy and cold. She was searching for a lie, but all she found was the same irritating, confident smirk.
"The Mock Tournament is in three weeks," she said finally, the frost around her feet beginning to melt as she withdrew her aura. "I'm the captain of the First Year representatives. If you're still an F-rank by the time of the trials, I won't be able to stop them from expelling you. And Kai?"
"Yeah, Ice Queen?"
"Whatever you're doing... hide it better. If I felt it, the instructors will too. And they won't be as 'curious' as I am."
She turned and walked away, her silver hair swaying with a grace that felt like a slap in the face to the dilapidated yard.
Kai watched her go, his heart finally slowing down. "Hide it better," he whispered. "Right. Rule number one: Don't let the demigods know the janitor is building a nuke."
The rest of the day was a blur of "Talent Theory" classes that Kai ignored and "Social Studies" where he was treated like a piece of furniture. He spent every second he could testing the limits of his new reality.
He discovered that 'Intelligence' didn't just grow by reading; it grew by understanding. When he actually focused on the complex mana-circuit diagrams on the board, his golden screen chimed.
[Action: Analytical Observation] [Intelligence +0.0005] [Growth Potential EXP +0.005%]
By the time the final bell rang, Kai felt like he was vibrating. He headed toward the school library, a massive cathedral of knowledge that usually saw him only when he needed a place to nap.
He needed to know if there were any records of "Evolutionary" talents. He needed to know if "Origin Grade" was a death sentence or a throne.
As he walked through the stacks, tucked away in the "Ancient History" section where the air smelled like dust and forgotten dreams, he pulled up his status again.
[Talent Progress: 4.82% / 100.00%]
"Nearly five percent in a day," Kai calculated. "At this rate, I'll hit E-rank in less than a month. The Mock Tournament is in twenty-one days. If I can hit E-rank... no, if I can hit D-rank..."
He stopped in front of a shelf labeled Pre-Awakening Myths. He reached for a heavy, leather-bound book, but as his fingers touched the spine, a new notification appeared. It wasn't the usual gold. It was a deep, bloody red.
[Warning: Host is being observed.] [Detection: Grade-A Stealth Talent.]
Kai's blood turned to ice. He didn't move. He didn't turn around. He kept his hand on the book, his mind racing. An A-rank? Here?
"You have very interesting eyes, Mr. Rowan."
The voice came from directly behind his ear. It was a dry, raspy sound, like parchment being rubbed together.
Kai slowly turned. Standing in the shadows of the bookshelf was a man he didn't recognize. He was thin, wearing a nondescript janitor's uniform, but his eyes were a piercing, unnatural violet. He wasn't holding a mop; he was holding a small, silver coin, flipping it between his knuckles with hypnotic speed.
"I've been watching the leaderboard," the man said, his smile not reaching his eyes. "The boy at the very bottom. The one with 'Growth Potential.' Usually, those boys end up in the gutter. But you... you walked out of the yard today with the stride of a man who just found a gold mine."
"I just have a very good chiropractor," Kai said, his sarcasm acting as a reflex even as his heart hammered against his ribs. "Who are you? The library's official Creeper?"
The man stopped flipping the coin. He caught it in his palm and stepped into the light.
"Names aren't important. What's important is that I represent people who are very interested in 'errors' in the system. People who believe that F-rank is just a word for 'unrefined diamond.'"
The man reached out, his hand moving with a speed that Kai's 5.0 agility couldn't even track. He tapped Kai's chest, right over his heart.
"Keep growing, Kai Rowan. Grow fast. Because the world is a very hungry place, and a talent like yours... it's the finest meal of all."
In a blink, the man was gone. There was no smoke, no magical circle—just an empty aisle and the lingering scent of ozone.
Kai slumped against the bookshelf, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked down at his chest. There, pinned to his blazer, was the silver coin the man had been flipping.
He flipped it over. On the back, there was no denomination—only a single, engraved image of a snake eating its own tail.
Kai's hand shook as he pulled up his golden screen. A new message was waiting for him, one that made the "Mock Tournament" feel like a playground game.
[Hidden Quest Triggered: Survival of the Fittest] [Objective: Reach D-Rank before the 'Eye' finds you again.] [Time Remaining: 20 Days, 23 Hours, 59 Minutes.]
[Failure Penalty: Consumption.]
Kai stared at the timer as it began to tick down. The sarcasm was gone. The jokes were dead.
"Well," Kai whispered, his eyes hardening into something sharp and dangerous. "I guess I better stop walking and start running."