Ethan sat in the back of the taxi, watching the city blur past the window as the meter ticked upward. Every second felt expensive, and he'd spent most of what little cash he had left just getting here.
'Worth it,' he told himself.
It probably wasn't, but his mind wasn't on money or the city.
It was on Mace and Detective Holt - the difference between them replayed in his head over and over.
Before Mace, Ethan had felt helpless.
But Holt?
Holt hadn't even felt like he was on the same playing field.
'They're both Titled… so what's the actual gap?'
He didn't even truly understand the difference between the Titled ranks yet, at least not in practical terms. As such, he pulled out the Association Phone and began tinkering with it again, scrolling through menus.
Gates in the surrounding area, posted payouts, threat assessments, and nearest association branches.
It was… a lot.
But he only had E-rank clearance, and signing up for a gate right now?
That would be suicide.
One thing had become painfully clear today: he was far too weak.
So instead of browsing jobs he couldn't take, Ethan opened the Association Guidelines.
If he was going to survive in this world, he needed context.
The ranking explanation appeared in clean, official formatting, and he read it carefully:
E Rank - Slightly beyond peak human capability, with limited skill usage and manageable threat levels to prepared fighters.
D Rank - Clearly superhuman, possessing at least one developed ability and capable of overwhelming lower ranks without strategy.
C Rank - A dominant combat entity with refined abilities, high durability, and the power to decisively crush D Ranks.
B Rank - A high-level threat with exceptional physical and magical control, capable of dismantling entire lower-rank groups alone.
A Rank - An elite force operating on a vastly superior scale, requiring coordinated high-rank opposition to confront safely.
S Rank - A catastrophic-level existence whose overwhelming power and mastery make them nearly impossible to challenge without equal strength.
Ethan leaned back slightly.
"That kinda helps," he muttered under his breath.
Though it was lacking details or anything quantifiable, especially S Rank.
It almost sounded like the Association didn't even try to evaluate them properly, almost as if to say, "They are on another level."
But that led to another question.
'How does that translate to my system stats?'
As if responding to the thought, a notification flickered into view.
{Adjusting to Association Guidelines…}
{The following are average total base stats per rank, incorporating physical stats and MP:}
{E Rank: 50 | D Rank: 100 | C Rank: 150 | B Rank: 200 | A Rank: 250 | S Rank: 250+}
Ethan blinked.
"Even the system doesn't have a proper gauge for S Ranks…"
It was just 250+ and entirely open-ended, leaving him unsure what to expect.
Another line appeared.
{Disclaimer: These are average base stats, which is the addition of Strength, Speed, Stamina, and MP. It is before any skills or buffs are used to amplify them; as such, it is not an accurate measure of Titled during Combat.}
'That makes sense, but isn't exactly useful.'
The system ignored his remark and continued.
{Stats are only one marker of capability. Skill quality and synergy play a greater role. Most E-ranks possess only one basic skill, if that, with many limited to minor physical augmentation.}
Ethan nodded as he read the system's prompt.
It made total sense, and the best example he had was Mace.
He hadn't just been strong, but he had some form of exterior hardening skill that made him far more dangerous than his stats might suggest. Combat Prowess also couldn't be measured by numbers, so stats weren't the be-all and end-all.
Another message followed.
{In combat, an E Rank can defeat a D Rank under favourable conditions, both among beasts and Titled, and the same for the other ranks. However, it is borderline impossible for an A Rank to defeat an S Rank.}
Ethan let out a slow breath.
"Good to know."
So gaps weren't absolute until they were.
Below S Rank, skill matchups, strategy, environment… all of it mattered.
But S Rank?
That was a wall.
Ethan absorbed it all greedily.
Before today, rankings had been background noise that he didn't bother paying much attention to, but now?
Now he was one of them - a Titled, even if barely.
'So basically…'
He did the math in his head.
'As I am now, I'm barely better than an average guy in good shape.'
It was a harsh truth, but one that was better to face now than before he got himself into shit.
"A firearm would still very much ruin my day," he muttered dryly, recalling those two youths who worked under Mace.
On that train of thought, 'I wonder if a bullet would even work on that fucker while he's in that hardened form.'
Then that raised another question.
'What rank would he be?'
Looking back at the ranking classification used by the Association, he was likely C Rank.
Though Ethan had hardly pushed him or seen much of what he could do, so it was pretty much a guess.
But what made him terrifying wasn't just his stats.
'Just like the system said, skills matter more than raw numbers.'
Ethan looked at his reflection faintly in the taxi window.
He had Beast Assimilation, Beast Summoning, and, most importantly, growth potential.
'I can't wait to run it back with that fucker once I get stronger.'
With that thought in mind, the taxi slowed, and they had arrived.
Ethan paid, stepped out, and stared at the familiar exterior of the Black Howl.
The tension that had sat heavy on his shoulders all day loosened slightly.
His expression shifted, concern and calculation faded as a small smile tugged at his lips.
'Time to show Mark I'm not crazy.'
And this time?
He actually had proof.
-
Ethan walked in with a smug smile already on his face.
Mark was behind the counter, wiping down a glass like he always did during the quiet hours. There was a regular sitting in the corner nursing a drink and picking at a late lunch, but aside from that, the Black Howl was empty.
It would fill up later; nights were when the noise came.
For now, it was just the hum of the fridge and low music from the speakers.
The bell above the door jingled as the door shut behind Ethan with a soft thud.
Mark looked up automatically.
Their eyes met, and immediately, something felt… different.
Ethan looked confident and relaxed, almost too relaxed.
Mark's grip on the glass tightened slightly.
'Is he really an S Rank? No way, right?'
He had laughed it off earlier, but Ethan had walked out looking like a man with something to prove.
And now he was back with that look...
Ethan didn't say anything at first. He just walked up to the counter, leaned on it casually, then reached into his pocket.
"Drumroll, please," he said lightly.
Mark frowned. "What-?"
Ethan placed the Titled ID on the counter and slid it across.
As he did, Mark's heart skipped for half a second, thinking he was in the presence of a walking nuclear weapon.
Then he looked at the rank.
E Rank.
There was silence.
Mark didn't know whether to be confused, disappointed, or relieved.
"E… Rank?" he said slowly. "With a Conditional Title?"
Ethan folded his arms, still smiling.
"Long story," he said.
Mark stared at the card again.
"How does that even make sense?"
But underneath the confusion, something else surfaced: relief.
Ethan wasn't crazy, he wasn't hallucinating, he hadn't snapped under the pressure of the last few years.
That alone felt like a win.
Still…
E Rank.
Mark leaned back slightly, processing.
E-rank Titled were barely better than normal humans, slightly above peak physical condition at best. Some had one weak skill, while others barely had anything beyond minor physical enhancement.
In Gates, they were support at most: bag carriers, assistants, or an extra pair of hands.
A trained soldier, even unarmed, had a real chance against most E Ranks.
The difference wasn't overwhelming.
The only reason they mattered at all was because only Titled could enter Gates.
That made them useful, especially in lower-ranked Gates.
Outside of Gates, the military and authorities still held weight, always ready for sudden Gate Breaks.
To most Titled, the military was still a force to be reckoned with, but to the higher ranks, even tanks and heavy artillery weren't a threat.
What did an army matter when an S Rank could destroy a small city?
'But E Rank, he might as well become a construction worker.'
Mark sighed.
"So," he said, looking up at Ethan again. "You're telling me you're officially Titled."
"Yep."
"And you're E Rank."
"For now."
Mark narrowed his eyes slightly at that.
'For now?'
Ethan's confidence hadn't dropped; if anything, it had grown.
That wasn't how E Ranks acted, especially not those who newly received their Titles. Most were overwhelmed and nervous, trying to figure out how to monetise their basic enhancements.
"Alright," Mark said finally, crossing his arms. "Start talking."
Ethan grinned wider.
And that was when the questioning began.