《Developing powers in the space age》 chapter 1 : Talent panel DAY 1 It was the beginning of a warm summer in Iron-Veil City, and the air buzzed with youthful enthusiasm. Michael had just graduated from high school, and he felt on top of the world. With stellar marks and impressive talent in Stellarion, he had earned a coveted spot in the elite talent camp, Nirvana, supported by the Empire. All the sacrifices his parents had made weren¡¯t in vain. After celebrating with his friends Luke and Thomas, Michael returned home, walking under their envious gazes. Whether or not he made it into Nirvana, his future was bright. Unfortunately, they might never see each other again. Their paths were about to diverge. Only five students from his school had been selected for the training camp, and Michael was one of the lucky few. With the odds stacked against them, the likelihood of their paths crossing again was slim. So, they shared one last heartfelt meal together, knowing this would likely be their final farewell. At home, his mother, Rose, had already received the news through the phone and was bubbling with excitement. Rose worked as a secretary at one of the Modus arm industries in Iron-Veil City. While her salary wasn¡¯t high, she held immense hopes for Michael¡¯s future. She couldn¡¯t wait to tell her husband, Laurent, as soon as he returned from work. The Bryant family¡ªMichael, Rose, his father Laurent, and younger sister Mira¡ªdidn¡¯t have much, but they were incredibly close. Michael¡¯s happiness was their joy. ¡°Have you chosen a career path yet?¡± Rose asked, her voice tinged with concern. Michael smiled. She already knew he wanted to be a pilot, but she wanted reassurance. His response was the same as always. ¡°I want to be a pilot, Ma. I haven¡¯t changed my mind. I¡¯m going to make it.¡± A flicker of worry crossed her face. Becoming a pilot wasn¡¯t without risk. She knew this was what he wanted, but the reality of it hit harder now that he was so close to his dream. Still, Rose forced a smile, adopting a brave front. Success came with risks, after all. Laurent returned home twenty minutes later, holding hands with Mira, who had just finished school. Surprised by the news that his wife had kept from him, Laurent was initially speechless. Then, his face broke into an excited grin. He pulled Michael into a tight embrace. As a construction worker, Laurent understood how hard life could be. ¡°When you start making money, don¡¯t forget about me,¡± Mira piped up. Her first year of high school was behind her, and she looked at Michael with a mixture of envy and pride. Mira was bright and pretty, having matured early due to a tough upbringing. Like most teenage girls, she had her insecurities, but seeing her older brother¡¯s success filled her with both joy and a twinge of longing. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll buy you the prettiest, most functional clothes,¡± Michael replied, grinning. Being an Evolver came with plenty of perks. Clothes were the least of it. He would make her an Evolver, too, when he could. Building a career in this world was much easier with resources. Thanks to his scholarship, both from the school and the city, Michael was confident he¡¯d be able to support his sister once he became an Evolver.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. After being showered with congratulations, Michael retreated to his room, letting his family savor their joy. He still had one more thing to do. He entered his VR capsule, a gift from the city to all graduates. He let the darkness envelop him until the familiar HUD appeared, with icons representing various software. With eager anticipation, he selected "Stellarion." It was his first time accessing the game¡ªsomething he¡¯d dreamed of for years. You could only play after graduation, and now that the moment had arrived, he was bursting with excitement. ¡°Welcome to Stellarion,¡± a warm, feminine voice greeted him in his ear. Immediately, a login window popped up. Entering his credentials would confirm his graduation, and after that, he wouldn¡¯t have to log in again. The system would remember him. Once his credentials were entered and his graduation confirmed, Michael¡¯s heart raced as he entered the game for the first time. Stellarion was an incredibly immersive futuristic VR world, so real it felt like he was stepping into another reality. He appeared in a bustling beginner town, dressed in basic, subpar equipment. Despite its name, the town seemed as alive and vibrant as Iron-Veil City itself. Michael stared around in awe. ¡°This place¡­ everything looks so real,¡± he murmured, marveling at the scenery. His fists clenched in excitement. He¡¯d read about this in class, but experiencing it firsthand was overwhelming. It felt like teleportation¡ªlike stepping into an alternate universe that still felt completely real. The game¡¯s starting point was randomized, but Michael knew he was still within the human territories. Your avatar looked exactly like you, so your appearance in the game was the same as in real life. Everyone started in a beginner town, and everyone received a talent, chosen by fate. Remembering his training in school, Michael focused on the icon at the bottom-right of the HUD. A menu appeared, showing his inventory, map, talents, money, resources, stats, and the logoff button. He selected the map and zoomed in, discovering that he was in the northwestern part of the human territories. The town he had spawned in was called ¡°Afron.¡± After selecting the ¡°Temple of Blessing,¡± a GPS-like trajectory appeared on his map, leading him toward the building. The temple was the grandest structure in Afron, towering above everything else. It looked like a futuristic Notre Dame, bathed in soft blue neon light. As Michael approached the temple, he passed higher-level players and NPCs. His heart pounded in his chest. Inside, a line of beginners waited in front of an altar, where a priest blessed them with their talents. Behind the altar stood a massive statue of a female angel, towering at least twelve feet tall. Her beauty was otherworldly. Each time a player received their talent, a vision would appear on the ceiling of the temple. The stronger the talent, the more spectacular the vision. When it was his turn, Michael stepped forward, eager yet nervous. The priest, with an indifferent expression, handed him a glowing orb. ¡°Place your hand on the orb,¡± the priest instructed. Michael hesitated, but his nerves took over as he placed his hand on the orb. Ding¡ªCongratulations. You have awakened the F-rank talent, ''Body Strengthening.'' Your profession is now ¡®Warrior Apprentice.¡¯ A weak vision flickered across the temple ceiling. Michael blinked, his heart sinking. He stared at the message, reading it over and over, hoping it was a mistake. But no, there it was: he had received an F-rank talent. A trash talent. His vision blurred as disappointment washed over him. He stepped aside, the priest¡¯s indifferent gaze following him. Michael forced himself to regain his composure, though the crushing reality settled deep in his chest. His dream of becoming an elite pilot, of entering Nirvana, now felt unreachable. He could still attend a top university, but his chances of becoming a top-tier Evolver¡ªlet alone a pilot¡ªwere slim. How would he face his parents with this news? Just as he was about to leave the temple, a strange message appeared in front of him: Ding¡ªCongratulations. You have awakened the EX-rank talent, ''Infinite Talent Evolution.'' Your profession will evolve with your progress. At that moment, something incredible happened. The statue of the angel behind the altar seemed to come to life. Her eyes flickered with a soft, knowing light, and a faint, appreciative smile curved on her lips. Since the game¡¯s launch, the angel statues had been mere decorations. They never reacted to anything, yet here it was¡ªsomething extraordinary. Michael, too absorbed in the message, didn¡¯t notice the change. The vision, brief as it was, vanished almost immediately, leaving behind only whispers of speculation among those who¡¯d witnessed it. Chapter 2 : First evolution Michael¡¯s heart raced with exhilaration. ''Glory to the emperor'' He thought excitedly. Moments ago, he was staring at the bleak prospect of mediocrity, only to have his future transformed in an instant. A dual talent blessing¡ªwhile rare¡ªwas not unheard of, but his second blessing was anything but ordinary. Without delay, he opened his status panel:
[Status Panel] [Name]: Michael [Name Tag]: (N/A) [Age]: 18 [Race/Bloodline]: Human [Physique]: Normal [Coins]: 10 bronze virtual coins [Class]: Warrior Apprentice [Subclass]: (N/A) [Talents]: [Level]: 1 [HP] : 100/100 [Stats]: [Skills]:
Suppressing his excitement, Michael tapped on the details of his first blessing:
[F-rank Body Strengthening] [+] [Talent Blessing] Effect: +1 attribute for every level.
The description matched his expectations. An F-rank talent was, after all, unremarkable. Without his dual talent, he¡¯d be nothing more than cannon fodder if he pursued a front-line combat role. But the second blessing was where his true potential lay. Eagerly, he selected it:
[EX-rank Infinite Talent Evolution] [Effects]: [Talent Evolution Cost]: [Other Effects]: [Current TP]: 43Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Michael¡¯s mind raced as he analyzed the information. A quick calculation revealed that it would take just 11 days to evolve his talent to SS rank, and around 116 days¡ªless than half a year¡ªto achieve the mythical SSS rank. However, the Nirvana Talent Program¡¯s evaluation was only 30 days away. Reaching SS rank in time was realistic, though he would have to endure the risks associated with evolution. Despite the dangers, he couldn¡¯t contain his smile. How could he complain? This blessing was unparalleled. Humanity¡¯s strongest recorded talent was only C rank¡ªhis potential had already surpassed that, and this was just the beginning. He would even gain new talent blessings every 1,000 levels, all of which he could evolve to SSS rank. For now, though, his immediate priority was leveling up. He closed the panel, but not before selecting his "Name Tag." By tradition, players chose a name tag based on their first blessing. After some thought, he chose "Restless." Others would assume it referenced his F-rank talent, but Michael knew the truth. A numeric suffix appeared beside the name, indicating it had been chosen by others before him. He dismissed the panel and exited the temple. Outside, beginner players were locked in battles against low-level monsters. Since it was the early stages of the game, firearms and advanced technology were unavailable. Players would need to reach level 20 before gaining access to higher-tier cities where firearms and other advanced equipment could be purchased. For now, it felt almost comical, like watching barbarians stumble upon rudimentary weapons of war. This tutorial phase had players relying on swords, daggers, crossbows, and other primitive tools to fight and survive. Michael unsheathed his basic iron longsword and sought a quiet corner to begin his first fight. His opponent: a "Mutated Horned Rabbit." Even against this weak monster, the battle was grueling. Without his mastery of the Empire Standard Fighting Art, he might have lost. The game¡¯s difficulty was immediately apparent¡ªno wonder most players needed teams to survive.
[System Message]: You defeated the monster "Horned Rabbit." +12 EXP +1 bronze coin
The rewards were pitiful, and the effort required was immense. Evolving his talent was clearly a necessity. However, one unexpected reward caught his attention:
[System Message]: You gained a new professional talent: "Beginner Swordsmanship (Level 1)."
The talent provided a meager +0.01% damage bonus¡ªbarely significant¡ªbut acquiring it so quickly demonstrated the game¡¯s responsiveness to actions. Frustrated by the slow grind, Michael made a bold decision. He ventured deeper into the forest, away from the prying eyes of other players, and opened his status panel. He selected Body Strengthening and decisively invested 1,111 TP, instantly evolving it to B rank.
[System Message]: Congratulations! You have evolved your F-rank talent to B-rank talent: "Lux Constitution." [Lux Constitution]:
A refreshing sensation coursed through Michael¡¯s body. There was no pain¡ªonly an indescribable feeling of renewal. He glanced at his reflection in the polished blade of his sword. His features seemed sharper, more charismatic. The new talent¡¯s passive sunlight benefit amazed him. Unlike others who needed to grind tirelessly, he could grow stronger simply by stepping outside. At the same level, he could easily outmatch anyone with a C-rank talent. For the first time, Michael realized the true extent of his potential. The path ahead would still be challenging, but he was no longer ordinary. He wasn¡¯t just playing the game¡ªhe was destined to thrive. Chapter 3 : Growth and Parent reactions. Michael continued fighting, battling rabbit after rabbit. After a few grueling hours, he had gained only one level but completely depleted his stamina. His progress in swordsmanship, however, was significant. His Beginner Swordsmanship skill had leveled up from 1 to 3. His updated stats reflected the gains: [Stats: (Strength: 12.57) || (Constitution: 12.06) (Speed: 8.46) || (Reaction: 8.67) (Intelligence: 8.20) || (Wisdom: 8.12)] [Skills: Dash (LVL 2), Power Blow (LVL 2)] Michael had distributed his newly earned stat points evenly between strength and constitution. Despite this, he wasn¡¯t satisfied with his overall gains¡ªbut it would have to do for now. His blessing was growth-oriented rather than combat-focused, and its true potential would take time to manifest. DAY 2 By the time he logged off, it was already morning. Eight hours had passed in the real world, matching the eight hours he had spent in the game due to its 1:1 time ratio. Most players logged in during their sleep hours to maximize efficiency. While it was possible to spend more time in the game, doing so would negatively affect mental health and long-term performance. Michael opened the capsule and climbed out, stretching his stiff body. He immediately noticed something remarkable¡ªhis physique had changed overnight. His muscles were more defined, and he felt significantly stronger. In the real world, a 10-point stat in any category represented the pinnacle of human ability¡ªsomething only Olympic athletes or elite fighters could achieve. Michael had surpassed this threshold casually, reaching 12 points in strength after just one night. This was the advantage of being an F-type lifeform, and it was only the beginning. At higher levels, humanity could evolve into E-class at level 1,000, D-class at level 2,000, and beyond. The power of an individual grew increasingly terrifying with each advancement. A C-class lifeform could destroy a planet if they exerted themselves to the point of exhaustion, and some B-class lifeforms were said to be capable of effortlessly obliterating Earth-sized planets with a single skill. Michael smiled to himself. This was only the beginning. He left his room and went downstairs to have breakfast. His parents, Rose and Laurent, were already awake. Michael helped himself to eggs, bread, milk, and green tea, savoring the familiar routine. Watching the morning news with his parents was customary, but today¡¯s broadcast shocked him. For the first time, a B-level talent blessing had been reported among humans. The announcement brought visible joy to his parents. The war against the Xalarxes¡ªan advanced alien species¡ªwas an ever-present concern for ordinary citizens. Any positive development was a source of relief and hope.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The name, gender, and other details of the individual with the B-level blessing were classified for security reasons. ¡°Humanity has a strong future,¡± Rose said, her face lighting up with a hopeful smile. ¡°That goes without saying. The Xalarxes must be getting nervous by now,¡± Laurent added, his expression filled with pride. The atmosphere was celebratory, their hearts lifted by the news. Humanity had clawed its way back from one devastating defeat after another, gradually improving its position. They were now on the verge of surpassing their enemies¡ªa prospect that filled them with pride. However, Rose¡¯s joy gave way to worry as she turned her gaze to Michael. ¡°How about you, honey? Did you get a good blessing?¡± she asked anxiously. Despite her best efforts to remain calm, her concern was evident. A good blessing could shape her son¡¯s future, and the uncertainty had kept her awake the previous night. Both Rose and Laurent were F-class talents, which meant limited access to resources. They could only use capsules occasionally, renting them at special centers. Rose was level 38, while Laurent was level 59¡ªfar from the front lines of humanity¡¯s struggle. Michael, on the other hand, had access to a personal capsule, provided by the city for promising students. He wouldn¡¯t have to return it until he finished his studies. Still, Rose couldn¡¯t shake her anxiety. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if your talent isn¡¯t great,¡± she reassured him. ¡°Plenty of people live fulfilling lives with F-class talents.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to pressure yourself,¡± Laurent added, though his shifting gaze betrayed his own worries. Michael smiled, deciding it was best to share part of the truth. ¡°I have a C-class talent,¡± he said confidently. His parents froze, their faces a mix of disbelief and shock. ¡°C-class?¡± Rose repeated, her voice trembling. Laurent leaned back, staring at Michael with wide eyes before shifting his gaze to Rose. For a moment, suspicion flickered in his eyes. ''Is that really my son?'' he wondered. Rose noticed Laurent''s expression and understood him well enough to understand what this expression meant on his face. She glared at him. Her glare was sharp enough to make him flinch, and Laurent quickly flashed an apologetic smile. He resolved to make it up to her later, already bracing himself for several nights on the couch. ¡°Is this real? What type of talent is it?¡± Rose asked, her voice tinged with both excitement and disbelief. Michael nodded. ¡°It¡¯s called Physical Strengthening. I gain additional attributes every time I level up. It¡¯s a growth-oriented talent.¡± Rose¡¯s expression softened with relief, and a small smile tugged at her lips. ¡°A growth-type talent is good. You¡¯ll need to focus on the game and be diligent. Growth talents start weak but have excellent long-term potential.¡± Her face turned stern as she continued, ¡°But listen to me carefully: you must not tell anyone about this. Other than us, no one else can know you have a growth-type talent. Do you understand?¡± ¡°I understand,¡± Michael replied, his tone calm. He had already decided to keep the full extent of his abilities hidden. It wouldn¡¯t be difficult to pass his attribute gains off as another type of blessing. Laurent leaned forward, his expression serious. ¡°Michael, I¡¯m proud of you, but remember this¡ªno matter how strong you become, never forget where you came from. Don¡¯t look down on people with lower talents than you.¡± He gestured meaningfully. ¡°One of humanity¡¯s greatest strengths has always been cooperation. No one has ever achieved greatness alone. Think of Oppenheimer¡ªthe father of the atomic bomb. He wouldn¡¯t have succeeded without thousands of scientists working alongside him.¡± Michael nodded, silently agreeing. What his father didn¡¯t know was that his talents could evolve endlessly. But Laurent¡¯s words still resonated. No matter how strong he became, he knew he couldn¡¯t do everything alone. Besides, he had no desire to live in isolation. Strength wasn¡¯t his ultimate goal¡ªit was a means to an end, a tool to secure freedom and improve the lives of those around him. As he thought about his future, plans began to take shape in his mind. Chapter 4 : Going to the martial gym. Michael arrived at the Argonauts Martial Gym at 8 AM, brimming with energy. He was eager to measure his progress and refine his martial arts skills. The gym, part of a franchise created by the elite guild Mythology, was an impressive establishment. Founded by Serge Frederick¡ªbetter known as Siegfried, a legendary martial artist in the Empire¡ªit boasted an excellent reputation, powerful instructors, and state-of-the-art facilities. Branches like this catered to students and F-typed life forms. Even within F-class, there were unofficial subcategories: F-, F, and F+. The distinctions were significant enough that Michael always had to be cautious, as even a higher-ranked F-type could pose a lethal threat. At the counter, he handed his membership card to a cheerful receptionist. She greeted him with a friendly smile, which he returned, causing her to blush. The gym was already half full despite the early hour. After teasing the receptionist, Michael moved toward the equipment to begin his workout. His goal was straightforward: test his limits. He started with weightlifting. Testing his maximum effort, he discovered he could lift 110 kilograms (243 pounds) with each arm. Satisfied, he moved on to measure his running speed, clocking in at 35 km/h (21.5 mph). Next was the Laser Room, a specialized chamber for reaction speed training. After a brief rest, Michael stepped inside. The setup was straightforward but challenging: red, lightweight balls would shoot at him from various angles and at increasing speeds. His goal was to avoid as many as possible. As the countdown reached zero, a red ball launched straight at him. He pivoted smoothly to his right, dodging it. Then came another from the left at a 15¡ã angle, then a 20¡ã angle from the right, and so on. Michael maintained his focus, avoiding the projectiles with precision. However, the difficulty escalated quickly, and at 14 seconds, a ball finally struck him. The session continued until the computer collected enough data. His final reaction time was recorded at 150 milliseconds¡ªa respectable score for an athlete but below even the F- type beginner threshold.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Michael wasn¡¯t discouraged. He reminded himself that he hadn¡¯t allocated any attribute points to speed or reaction yet. This was just the beginning. After leaving the Laser Room, he headed to the swordsmanship area. Unbeknownst to him, someone was monitoring his progress. *** Michael¡¯s high school days had been complicated. His academic success and popularity with some of the girls had made him a target for envy. The confession from the school belle¡ªthough politely rejected¡ªonly fueled resentment among his peers. Now, as one of the top five candidates for the Nirvana Program, Michael stood out even more. His achievements, despite limited resources, often led to comparisons that embarrassed his classmates. One such classmate, Jerome Gilt, happened to be at the gym that morning. When Jerome spotted Michael entering, curiosity got the better of him. He discreetly observed Michael¡¯s performance, noting his strength and speed tests. Watching the results from the Laser Room on a nearby monitor, Jerome nearly laughed out loud. ¡°Below average in strength, speed, and reaction,¡± he muttered under his breath. ¡°His talent must be garbage.¡± Jerome, unaware that Michael¡¯s talent was focused on long-term growth, jumped to conclusions. He snapped a photo of the Laser Room monitor and shared it in a group chat with his friends. From there, the information spread rapidly. By midday, most of Michael¡¯s classmates knew about his "disappointing" stats. For many, the news brought schadenfreude. Frank Hicks, another classmate, was particularly pleased. Frank had struggled academically, earning the ire of his prominent family. His parents constantly compared him to Michael, who, despite fewer resources, had excelled. Learning about Michael¡¯s "mediocre" stats felt like vindication. ¡°This is my chance,¡± Frank thought. He resolved to visit the gym regularly and challenge Michael to sparring matches. *** Unaware of his classmates'' gossip, Michael focused on his martial arts training. The gym¡¯s sparring dummies were sophisticated robots programmed to fight back with customizable attributes and combat styles. Michael entered his stats into the system and selected E.S.M.A.¡ªEmpire Standard Martial Arts¡ªas the dummy''s combat program. E.S.M.A. covered a wide range of techniques, from boxing and wrestling to ground fighting and weapon-based combat. It was the foundation of his training during school. Equipped with a wooden sword, Michael adopted the standard stance drilled into him during his studies. His movements were deliberate: vertical slashes, thrusts, feints¡ªall designed to break through the dummy¡¯s defenses. Despite his efforts, the dummy deflected or avoided each strike. Its programmed skill level matched his own, providing a relentless challenge. Michael fought until exhaustion, each swing of his sword sharpening his technique. Finally, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, he decided to call it a day. As he left the gym, he remained unaware of the rumors spreading about him or the plans his classmates were making. His focus was on one thing: progress. Chapter 5: Nova Knight By 11 AM, Michael arrived home, took a refreshing shower, and decided to relax by playing some video games. He joined an online FPS deathmatch, hopping onto the usual server where he played with his friends. Midway through the game, Luke, one of his closest friends, messaged him in the game chat with a concerning piece of news: "Michael, listen¡ªdon¡¯t go to the gym for a while. Word¡¯s out that you¡¯re weak and have a bad talent. Someone recorded your tests at the gym this morning and shared them. Now people might challenge you. It¡¯s not worth the risk." Michael paused for a moment, surprised by what he heard, but he quickly responded with a calm tone: "Thanks, bro. I¡¯ll handle it. Don¡¯t worry, my talent isn¡¯t as weak as they think. If anyone tries something, it won¡¯t end well for them. Let¡¯s just focus on the game." Despite the situation, Michael smiled. He didn¡¯t have many friends, but the ones he had were loyal and sincere. Even when they believed he had a weak talent, they stuck by his side, showing their concern. He¡¯d heard enough stories about people being abandoned because of weak talents, but thankfully, that wasn¡¯t his reality. Luke, Thomas, and Annabelle had been his friends throughout school. Annabelle, one of his dearest friends, had transferred to another school three years ago due to her parents'' work relocation. Despite the distance, they had stayed in touch. Although he reassured Luke, Michael wasn¡¯t foolish enough to take unnecessary risks. He estimated that by tonight, he¡¯d have enough Talent Points (TP) to evolve his talent to S-tier. Until then, he planned to play it safe. The Lux Constitution would even grant him one free attribute point today, though he dismissed it as minor progress. "Nah, who am I kidding? One point won¡¯t change much," he thought, chuckling to himself. Annabelle, however, jumped into the chat, furious. "If anyone dares mess with you, I¡¯ll handle them! Don¡¯t worry¡ªI awakened a C-rank talent, Dark Ranger Heart. I¡¯ll come to the Argonaut Martial Gym with you and take care of anyone looking for trouble." Her outburst surprised everyone in the chat. Michael was thrilled, but Luke and Thomas felt an entirely different emotion. ¡°C-rank talent?!¡± The revelation hit them like a thunderbolt. Luke and Thomas exchanged silent, teary-eyed reactions. C-rank talents were rare, representing only 1% of the population. Compared to their F-rank talents, it was a league of its own. "Also, what do you mean you¡¯re angry? We¡¯d love for you to get angry on our behalf too, okay?" they thought bitterly. Annabelle had always been a school belle, charming most of their classmates before her transfer. Neither Luke nor Thomas had been immune to her allure.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Michael, on the other hand, was delighted for her. A C-rank talent meant the Empire would likely cultivate her into a strong individual. He sent her a private message: "Hope to see you in the Nirvana Program soon. At least I won¡¯t feel alone. Don¡¯t worry¡ªmy talent isn¡¯t weak. It just develops slowly. I¡¯d be glad to meet you at the gym. Let¡¯s catch up tomorrow morning." After setting their plans, Michael played until noon, had lunch with his family, and then revised his piloting lessons. The course covered math, physics, aerodynamics, weather principles, basic maneuvers, and regulations. He positioned himself near a window during his revision, letting the sunlight bathe him to activate the effects of his Lux Constitution. It would grant him a maximum of one stat point for the day. Later that evening, Michael watched an episode of his favorite TV series. When it was time to sleep, he connected to his capsule. Welcome to Stellarion. The familiar message greeted him as he reappeared in the beginner town of Affron. Focusing on the icon in the bottom right, he opened his status screen: [Status Panel] [Name: Michael] [Name Tag: Restless] [Age: 18] [Race/Bloodline: Human] [Physique: Normal] [Coins: 12 bronze virtual coins] [Class: Warrior Apprentice] [Subclass: (N/A)] [Talents: He focused on the EX-rank Infinite Talent Evolution talent: [EX-rank Infinite Talent Evolution] [Effects: Calculations showed that he could evolve his talent to S-tier in about eight minutes. After that, it would take 10 days to reach SS-tier and approximately 110 days to SSS-tier. Michael also gained 0.8 points from Lux Constitution, which he invested into strength, bringing it to 13.37. Satisfied with his progress, he closed the status screen and ventured out to fight mutated rabbits. The battles were noticeably easier than the day before. Killing one now took only four minutes instead of six. By the end, he had enough TP to evolve his talent. Finding a secluded spot, he opened his status screen and focused on the [+] beside Lux Constitution. Are you sure you want to upgrade your B-grade talent, Lux Constitution, to S-tier? [YES] [NO] Michael selected [YES]. A notification chimed: Ding! Congratulations! You have obtained the S-rank talent, Hex Nova Knight Constitution. The transformation was excruciating. Pain wracked his body, forcing him to the ground. His muscles convulsed as his genes underwent a profound change. Grinding his teeth to endure the agony, he felt like an eternity passed before the process ended. Breathing heavily, he opened the talent description: [Hex Nova Knight Constitution (S-rank)] [+] Michael¡¯s exhaustion turned to joy as he absorbed the incredible benefits of his new talent. With this evolution, he knew his future was bright. Still, this was just the beginning. In 10 days, he¡¯d push his talent to the next level. For now, he¡¯d take it one day at a time. Chapter 6 : New Hunting Ground Michael continued his hunt, his newfound strength propelling his progress. Within a few hours, he reached level 4. After finishing off another mutated rabbit with a well-timed [Power Blow], he collected his loot and moved deeper into the forest. By this point, he had amassed 20 bronze virtual coins and a few pieces of mediocre equipment: an assassin¡¯s robe, basic armor, a magician¡¯s staff, and a sword. The most noteworthy item was the staff:
[Boros Staff (Excellent)]
  • Spell Power: +10
  • Spell Penetration: +3
  • Intelligence: +3
Items in Stellarion were ranked by quality: common (white), excellent (green), rare (blue), epic (purple), and legendary (orange). Though the staff wasn¡¯t useful to him, Michael felt pleased with the find. With his first goal¡ªleveling up and gathering loot¡ªhalfway complete, he turned his focus to finding a new hunting ground with stronger enemies. Leaving the mutated rabbits¡¯ territory, he ventured deeper into the forest and soon encountered scattered zombies. These zombies resembled grotesque, decayed humans clad in tattered NPC clothing. Their purple-green skin was riddled with atrophied muscles, exposed organs, and broken bones. The stench of rot filled the air. Some wore remnants of merchant or civilian attire, now dirty and torn. The monsters in Stellarion at the early stages of the game fell into three primary categories: mutated animals or alien beasts, undead, and goblins. It was said that each of these creatures had once been a galaxy-wide plague, long defeated but preserved in the game as adversaries. The level 5 zombies had three abilities:
  • [Resilience] (a passive skill akin to rigor mortis, making them harder to kill)
  • [Claw Attack]
  • [Bite] (a cooldown-free skill).
Individually, these creatures weren¡¯t difficult to handle due to their slow movements, but in groups, they could become overwhelming. Zombies also had one critical weakness: they could only be truly killed by decapitating or destroying their heads. No matter their remaining HP, they would continue to fight if this was not done. Michael spotted the first zombie and immediately activated [Dash].
[Dash (Level 3)]
  • Dash in a direction at 1.2¡Á movement speed.
  • Next attack: +10% physical damage.
  • Cost: 5 stamina.
  • Cooldown: 7 seconds.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. He closed the distance swiftly and struck a powerful blow to the zombie''s head, following up with a clean slash to its neck. -25 HP -22 HP His sudden movements alerted three nearby zombies, who began shambling toward him. Michael kept calm, using his footwork to avoid being surrounded. The Imperial Standard Martial Art (E.S.M.A) training proved invaluable, enabling him to manipulate the brainless, slow zombies. He moved gracefully, dodging claw swipes and striking whenever an opening appeared. With his first target weakened, the cooldown for [Dash] expired. He used it again, delivering a decisive [Power Blow] to the zombie''s head.
[Power Blow (Level 2)]
  • Deliver a powerful strike with +15% physical damage.
  • Cost: 5 stamina.
  • Cooldown: 8 seconds.
-32 HP The zombie collapsed, its head severed from its body. +10 EXP Unfortunately, the remaining two zombies capitalized on the brief moment of vulnerability, their claws raking across Michael. -14 HP -16 HP HP: 90/120 His health bar dropped by a quarter. Michael stepped back, delivering a horizontal slash to both zombies¡¯ midsections to create space. It wasn¡¯t an optimal attack, but it bought him time to regroup. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the zombie with the lowest HP, prioritizing it as his next target. His strategy was simple: eliminate one opponent at a time to reduce the number of threats. Using precise footwork and targeting weak points, he dispatched the remaining zombies one by one. Though they were level 5, his superior stats, talents, and strategy gave him the edge. By the time the fight ended, Michael was nearly out of stamina. His Nova Physique¡¯s bonus to constitution (+10% under the sun) had been crucial, allowing him to endure the prolonged battle.
[Level 4 | EXP: 70/140]
[Stamina: 20/120]
If not for his increased constitution, he would have collapsed from exhaustion. He took a moment to catch his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. After recovering slightly, Michael approached the zombie corpses and collected his rewards. Zombies dropped more coins than mutated animals due to their humanoid nature, and the level difference further increased the loot value. For this fight, he gained 15 bronze coins, bringing his total to 35. With each zombie yielding 10 EXP, Michael realized that just seven more kills would level him up. Determined, he pressed on, fighting two more groups of zombies. By the time he returned to town, he had reached level 5. He allocated his five new attribute points, investing three into Speed and two into Reaction, bringing their values to 14.46 and 12.67, respectively. His Beginner Swordsmanship skill leveled up to 4, increasing his physical damage to 24 (+1%), and he earned an additional 30 bronze coins, raising his total to 65. Satisfied with his progress, Michael returned to Affron to rest. Once back in town, he disconnected and stepped out of his capsule. Heading to his mirror, he studied his reflection. Despite the changes to his physique and bloodline, nothing seemed visibly different. Relieved, he smiled. For now, he had no time to dwell on the mysteries of his transformation. Tomorrow, he would purchase new skills and continue hunting. Chapter 7: Confronting Frank and Meeting Annabelle Morning light filtered through the window as Michael stepped out of his VR capsule, stretching his stiff muscles. He made his way to the kitchen, finding his younger sister, Mira, casually munching on cereal while scrolling through her phone. The moment she saw him, her face lit up with a mischievous smirk. Setting her phone down, she greeted him with mock enthusiasm. "Look who decided to join us in the real world! So, how was it? Can you break boulders now? Smash mountains?" Michael rolled his eyes, unamused. "I just started. Do you think I¡¯ve turned into some superhero overnight? I¡¯m barely an F-grade evolver. Wait a few years before you start making jokes." Mira scoffed, undeterred. "Hah! If this lady were an evolver, she¡¯d already be smashing spaceships left and right. Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re already getting lazy just because you leveled up a bit." Ignoring her increasingly outrageous remarks, Michael turned to the counter and began preparing his breakfast. As usual, he kept it simple but nutritious: green tea, eggs, bread, and some fruit. While stats mattered in his new reality, he knew the importance of maintaining a healthy diet in the real world. "Can I come with you to the gym?" Mira asked suddenly. Her school was still on holiday, and Michael saw no reason to refuse her. "You can," he replied. "But don¡¯t do anything stupid while you¡¯re there, and we¡¯ll be fine." Mira¡¯s response was to swipe a piece of bread and an apple from his plate. Michael rolled his eyes, but ultimately let it slide. She¡¯s lucky she¡¯s my sister and she is cute¡­ he thought, exasperated. The Gym Session The siblings left early, walking to the Argonaut Martial Gym since Michael didn¡¯t own a car. Upon arrival, he greeted the familiar pretty receptionist with a polite smile. "Here¡¯s my membership card," he said, then turned to Mira. "Give her yours too, and let¡¯s go." Mira hesitated briefly, clearly nervous. Though outgoing at home, she struggled with social anxiety around strangers. Still, she managed to hand over her card without incident. Their gym memberships were part of a city-sponsored program for aspiring youths, which helped alleviate some of their financial burden. Once inside, they went their separate ways. Mira joined a friend she¡¯d spotted near the entrance, while Michael headed to the weights area to test his limits. Starting with a modest barbell, he performed a clean lift with his left arm, bringing it above his head in one smooth motion. Too light. He continued increasing the weight until he reached his limit¡ª170 kg (375 lbs)¡ªwith both arms. He felt a sense of satisfaction. After evolving to level 4, he had allocated 12 attribute points into strength and constitution, and the results were evident.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Moving to the treadmill, he measured his maximum speed: 47 km/h (29 mph). Pleased with his progress, Michael was ready for the final part of his session: sparring. Unable to afford an instructor, he planned to use the training dummies again. However, as he approached the sparring area, a voice interrupted him. "Michael, there you are. I see you¡¯re heading to the sparring zone. Let me be your partner this time." Michael turned, mildly surprised by the challenge. The voice belonged to none other than Frank Hicks, an athletic youth with medium-length hair and a wild aura. His presence radiated an oppressive pressure that immediately put Michael on guard. "I¡¯ve made some progress in martial arts recently," Frank said with a smirk. "I¡¯d like to test my strength. You¡¯re looking for a sparring partner, right? Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got." Michael frowned. Frank¡¯s tone was confident, almost hostile. There was no reason to accept this challenge. Frank clearly had resources and training far superior to his own, and Michael had nothing to gain from this duel¡ªonly the risk of injury. "Sorry, but I already have a sparring partner lined up," Michael replied coolly. "She¡¯ll be here any minute. You should find someone else." He turned to leave, but Frank wasn¡¯t about to let him walk away. He had gone to great lengths to orchestrate this encounter, even bribing a classmate for Michael¡¯s schedule. His friends were here too, ready to taunt and humiliate Michael if things went their way. "What¡¯s the matter? Afraid?" Frank sneered. "Mister First Class doesn¡¯t even have the guts to face me? Or are you just too arrogant to acknowledge me?" The taunts from Frank¡¯s friends started almost immediately. " An incapable is an incapable, after all. He got a trash talent, and now he is too embarrassed to show his prowess." "He gets insulted, and he doesn''t even fight back. Guess he is a wimp. Quite laughable that they gave him that invitation to Nirvana. Guess the standards are not quite the same." "Maybe he needs an advantage. Frank should fight with one arm, close one eye, and not wear armor." Michael¡¯s expression remained impassive, though their words didn¡¯t affect him. That was until one comment cut deeper than the rest. "Trash will always produce trash. No matter the opportunity, reality doesn¡¯t change." He stopped, turning back to face Frank. "Don¡¯t you have enough resources already?" he said with disdain. "Your family probably handed you potions, armor, weapons, and power-leveling services on a silver platter. What do you have to prove by challenging me?" Frank bristled at the accusation but didn¡¯t deny it. It was true that his D-rank talent, Dark Pressure, had earned him the full support of his family. However, none of that diminished his desire to fight Michael. Michael continued, his tone cold. "Here¡¯s the deal: give me 15 days, and I¡¯ll fight you. But it¡¯ll be in a VR capsule, using the duel application. I¡¯m not getting injured for this pissing contest. Also, you are the one who insists on this duel, and you are the one who has something to prove, so you owe me 100,000 credits if I win." Frank opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a new voice cut through the tension like a blade. "If you can¡¯t wait, I¡¯ll fight you in his stead," the voice said, calm yet commanding. "But I should warn you¡ªmy fists won¡¯t be soft." Frank stiffened, a chill running down his spine. He hadn¡¯t sensed anyone approaching until the voice was right behind him. He turned to find a striking young woman standing there. She was a brunette with bright, crystal-clear eyes, a petite nose, and cherry-red lips. Her athletic figure, toned and powerful, gave off the impression of an Olympic volleyball player. Despite her beauty, there was an undeniable menace in her stance. Frank¡¯s six senses screamed at him to be cautious. The air around her radiated pressure far stronger than his own. As his eyes lingered on her for too long, a wave of killing intent washed over him, freezing him in place. Michael smirked slightly. "Annabelle. You¡¯re right on time." Chapter 8: Annabelle鈥檚 Strength ¡°Nice to see you again, Annabelle.¡± Michael¡¯s words shattered the heavy silence that had hung in the air since her arrival. The young woman turned toward him, and for a moment, her otherwise impassive face softened. A faint smile tugged at her lips¡ªso subtle it was barely noticeable, but Michael caught it. He shifted his focus back to Frank. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan? What do you want to do?¡± Michael asked, his tone calm yet firm. Frank¡¯s mind was in chaos. This girl was his age, yet her presence was suffocating. How could Michael know someone this powerful yet so young? Everything about her radiated danger, and his instincts screamed for him to retreat. But he knew it was too late to back down. He had brought his friends, and they were watching him. Practitioners in the gym were glancing over, curious about the commotion. Frank was trapped. If he ran, the rumors would spread¡ªhe¡¯d be the guy who fled as soon as he saw the girl. That would ruin his reputation, and worse, his family¡¯s standing. Gritting his teeth, he pushed forward, forcing himself to meet Michael¡¯s gaze. ¡°I accept your challenge. We¡¯ll fight in 15 days. Don¡¯t worry¡ªI¡¯ll have the credits ready.¡± With that, Frank shot Michael one last glare before storming out of the gym, his friends trailing behind him. A hundred thousand credits. The sum was staggering, even for him. But he had no choice¡ªhis ego and pride wouldn¡¯t allow him to back down. As he walked, his thoughts spiraled. Who was this ¡®Annabelle¡¯? There was no way someone this strong was unknown. And Michael¡ªwhy had he asked for a 15-day delay? Frank couldn¡¯t make sense of it. ¡®Whatever his plan is, it won¡¯t matter,¡¯ he thought. ¡®There¡¯s no way I¡¯ll lose.¡¯ His friends, meanwhile, were bewildered. What had just happened? Weren¡¯t they supposed to humiliate Michael? And why had Frank agreed to delay the fight? But they didn¡¯t understand what Frank had felt. Annabelle¡¯s killing intent had been focused entirely on him. Had it been directed at them, they would have crumbled on the spot. ¡°Your timing was perfect,¡± Michael said, turning to Annabelle. She smiled faintly. ¡°Thanks. It¡¯s good to see you too, Michael. How have you been? It¡¯s been a while¡ªyou¡¯re looking good.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I¡¯m fine, thanks. But you¡¯re clearly doing better than me. No way he would¡¯ve left without your help.¡± ¡°Hmph. So you do know you owe me,¡± Annabelle teased, feigning a tone of superiority. She tilted her chin up and struck an exaggerated pose, mimicking a noblewoman from an old drama. Michael chuckled, the tension melting away. It felt good to see his childhood friend again after so many years. ¡°I¡¯ll bow to your might, then,¡± he said with a grin. Their laughter filled the air, their playful banter bringing warmth to their surrounding. As they talked, Michael found himself struck by how much she had changed. They had only kept in touch through online games, and she didn¡¯t have a social media presence ¡ª and neither did he. ¡®Puberty really did her a favor,¡¯ he thought, though he quickly pushed the thought aside. The two of them rented a private sparring room. ¡°I have to warn you, Michael,¡± Annabelle said as they stepped inside. ¡°My parents are powerful. They helped me level up and gave me some amazing skills. So when we fight, don¡¯t hold back. I want everything you¡¯ve got.¡± ¡°What level are you now?¡± ¡°Level 12,¡± she said, pride evident in her voice. Michael blinked. Level 12? In just three days? That was astonishing. He knew she had a powerful background and significant resources, but even so, reaching that level required incredible effort and determination. Michael, on the other hand, could barely hold his own against level 7 opponents despite being level 5. Fighting her seriously was out of the question. But they weren¡¯t here to defeat each other¡ªthey were friends, after all. Michael nodded in understanding and took a fighting stance. Without hesitation, he launched a punch aimed at her chest, putting his full strength into the strike. Annabelle¡¯s eyes lit up with satisfaction. She was a proud woman, and being underestimated by someone she liked¡ªespecially by Michael¡ªshe would have been disappointed. With practiced ease, she parried the punch. Michael followed up with a series of moves, mixing punches, kicks, feints, and even elbow strikes. He tried everything to catch her off guard, but it was futile. Annabelle was in complete control. Her footwork was flawless¡ªevery movement precise, every step calculated. Whether she was dodging, countering, or stabilizing herself, it was clear she was using a martial art far superior to anything taught at school or at the gym. After gauging his abilities, she began to retaliate. Michael tried to block, parry, or counter her strikes, but she was faster. Some of her attacks came from angles he couldn¡¯t even see. The two sparred intensely, testing each other¡¯s techniques. After several minutes, Michael stepped back, breathing heavily. ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± he said, his voice tinged with both exhaustion and satisfaction. Though he had lost, Michael didn¡¯t feel defeated. Annabelle¡¯s strength and skill were far beyond his, but there was no shame in that. The advent of Stellarion had changed the rules. Women, once considered weaker physically, could now surpass men with effort and talent. At level 12, Annabelle¡¯s stats completely overshadowed his. Michael smiled, proud of his friend. Training with her would push him to grow faster. Other than that, her decision to spar with him despite her advantages didn¡¯t go unnoticed. She could¡¯ve easily sought out stronger opponents or elite instructors, but she chose to help him instead. Her gain would obviously be lowered, but she still made that decision without hesitation over a game chat. He truly cherished her and her efforts for what she did. ¡°Thanks a lot for coming, Annabelle. I truly appreciate it¡± he said earnestly. Her eyes widened at his sincerity, and for a moment, she looked flustered. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it,¡± she replied softly, turning her head away to hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. Chapter 9 : New skills and equipments After a while, Michael resumed his training with Annabelle. They moved through grappling, light weapon mastery, and sword techniques. Exhausted, he finally waved his hand and gasped, ¡°Let¡¯s stop here. Thanks for all of this. Huff¡­ I¡¯ll catch up to your strength soon. Huff, huff... It¡¯d be great if I could team up with you someday.¡± Crouched over with one hand on his side, his breath ragged, he glanced at her with a tired but determined smile. Annabelle laughed at his comical appearance, looking tired on one hand but saying he would catch up to her in no time on the other hand. Michael forced a smile, and straightened up despite his aching muscles. She chuckled. ¡°Right now, this beginner town is just the tutorial. The quests are basic, and there aren¡¯t even any dungeons. But when we meet in Nebula, we¡¯ll explore together. I¡¯ll even let you carry my loot.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s make it happen,¡± he agreed, though he rolled his eyes. ¡°Carrying your loot wasn¡¯t exactly what I had in mind, though.¡± As the conversation turned more casual, Michael grew curious about Annabelle¡¯s motivations. ¡°Do you have a reason why you want to be stronger?¡± he asked. ¡°To be honest,¡± she admitted, ¡°it¡¯s nothing grand or noble. I just want to impress my parents and secure a better future for myself and my loved ones.¡± ¡°What about you?¡± she asked, tilting her head. ¡°Not really. I¡¯m still figuring it out,¡± Michael said with a shrug, his honesty evident. She smiled slyly. ¡°Maybe your reason is to impress me, huh?¡± Michael laughed nervously. ¡°Oh, yeah, absolutely. It¡¯s all part of my master plan to gain your approval. Step one: not die during training.¡± ¡°Good plan,¡± she said with mock seriousness. ¡°Step two: stop wheezing like a broken bellows.¡± He grinned. ¡°Noted.¡± Michael smiled faintly, reflecting on her question. Did he want to protect his family? Impress Annabelle? Become a hero? Or simply gain wealth and authority? He wasn¡¯t sure. All he knew was that he loved the feeling of growing stronger. The deeper reasons, buried in his subconscious, eluded him for now. For now, though, Michael was content with his life and its trajectory. That night, Michael logged into Stellarion. Earlier in the afternoon, he had spent hours studying in the sunlight to boost his stats, and his efforts had paid off. He received 4.31 attribute points to distribute, which he invested entirely in speed and reaction. Understanding the balance between attributes, he knew that stats were interconnected: All linked stats could only be double their respective ones and not more. Michael carefully adjusted his stats: [Strength]: 20.57 [Constitution]: 20.06 [Speed]: 16.46 [Reaction]: 15.98 [Intelligence]: 11.20 [Wisdom]: 11.12 Satisfied, he turned his attention to his inventory. At the equipment shop, he sold off his old gear: an assassin robe, anarmor, the Boros magician staff of excellent quality, and a basic sword. The staff alone fetched 60 bronze coins, and after selling everything, he had 1 silver coin and 50 bronze coins. ¡°Show me your list of swords and armor,¡± he requested. The indifferent middle-aged man behind the counter handed him a catalog. After careful consideration, Michael selected the Swift-Striker Set for 110 bronze coins: With his new gear in hand, he headed to the Warrior Cottage to purchase skills. After some deliberation, he bought: With only 15 bronze coins left, Michael set out to test his new equipment and skills. At the zombie hunting grounds, it didn¡¯t take long to encounter his targets. He engaged a group of level 5 zombies, eager to see how far he¡¯d come. ¡°[Triple Slash]!¡± -40 -43 -48 Three zombies fell in quick succession. Michael grinned, his confidence renewed. Moving deeper into the area, he deliberately agroed a larger group, fighting seven zombies at once. Nearby, a party of four adventurers watched in stunned silence. ¡°Should we invite him to our party?¡± asked Paul, a young warrior with a red bandana. The group¡¯s leader, Arin, a blonde mage with sharp eyes, hesitated. Her ambition to become a foot soldier after graduation made her cautious. Trusting the wrong person could jeopardize her progress. Still, she couldn¡¯t ignore Michael¡¯s skill. It didn''t help that he wasn''t bad looking... ¡°Let¡¯s ask him after he¡¯s done with the zombies,¡± she decided after a moment. Michael, oblivious to their discussion, fought with renewed ease. Annabelle¡¯s training had sharpened his footwork and reflexes. With efficient strikes, precise movements, and his new skills, he dispatched the zombies with minimal effort. As the corpses dissolved into white light, leaving behind coins and materials, Michael felt a surge of satisfaction. He wanted more: stronger enemies, elite mobs, and even bosses. For now, though, patience was key. Nebula City¡ªand Annabelle¡ªawaited. Just as he began collecting his rewards, a soft voice interrupted his thoughts. ¡°Do you have a minute?¡± Michael turned to see the blonde mage, Arin, approaching. Her teammates stood a short distance behind her, watching carefully. Michael¡¯s curiosity was piqued, but he remained wary. ¡°That depends. What do you want?¡± Arin gestured to her group. ¡°Let us introduce ourselves. I¡¯m Arin, a level 8 mage. This is Paul, a level 8 warrior, Joe, our level 9 priest, and Kate, a level 8 ranger. Would you like to join our party? We¡¯re planning to hunt in the abandoned city.¡± Michael considered her proposal, his mind already weighing the pros and cons. Chapter 10: Group Hunt Chapter 10: Group Hunt He glanced at Arin, whose blonde hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, her posture exuding both confidence and caution. Her blue robe marked her as a mage, while the faint etchings of runes on her staff suggested she had invested in quality gear. Paul, the bandana-wearing warrior, stood with his arms crossed, giving off a laid-back but vigilant vibe. Joe, the priest, seemed a bit distracted, his eyes darting around the area as if on the lookout for threats. And Kate, the ranger, was leaning against a nearby tree, twirling a dagger absentmindedly in her hand. Michael wasn¡¯t sure if they truly understood what they were getting into. The Abandoned City of Deashal was no joke. It had once been a bustling hub before being overrun by bloodthirsty zombies. These weren¡¯t your run-of-the-mill zombies either. The city was crawling with Zombie Rippers, Zombie Marauders, and even Titan Zombies¡ªeach deadlier than the last. ¡°If you go there unprepared, you¡¯ll be ripped to pieces,¡± Michael warned. He crossed his arms, scanning the group. ¡°You¡¯d need to be at least level 10, and even then, the place is filled with danger. What gives you the confidence to survive there?¡± ¡°This,¡± Arin said confidently, pulling a grenade from her inventory. The metallic sheen caught the light, and her lips curled into a small smirk. Michael raised an eyebrow. ¡°A grenade? That¡¯s your grand plan?¡± ¡°Not just one grenade,¡± she corrected, holding up a finger. ¡°I found an entire chest full of them. We don¡¯t need to fight everything directly. If you can kite a group of zombies with your speed and gather them in one spot, I¡¯ll blow them to kingdom come.¡± Michael tilted his head, intrigued but skeptical. ¡°And while I¡¯m playing bait, what are the rest of you doing? Will you cheer for me while I risk it all?¡± Kate, the ranger, stepped forward, arms crossed, clearly unamused. ¡°Hardly. Joe, our priest, will cast a protection spell on you. I¡¯ll take care of any zombies that get too close with my bow. Paul will step in if things go south, and Arin will prepare a large-scale spell to clean up the rest.¡± Arin nodded in appreciation to Kate''s help, adding, ¡°To play it safe, we¡¯ll grind a few more levels first. I want everyone at level 8 or 9 before we head into Deashal.¡± Michael tapped his chin, considering their plan. It wasn¡¯t the worst idea, but it wasn¡¯t without risk either. There was also the question of trust. Stellarion didn¡¯t protect against team-killing, after all. If they wanted, they could throw a grenade at him along with the zombies and take all the rewards for themselves.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°How do I know you won¡¯t just blow me up along with the zombies?¡± he asked bluntly. Arin met his gaze without flinching. ¡°Because I¡¯m willing to give you half of the grenades upfront. If you die, those grenades go with you into your inventory. That would be a huge loss for me. Plus, the fact that we¡¯re sharing our plan with you should count for something.¡± Michael¡¯s suspicion lessened at her reasoning. If they were willing to stake their resources, they might be trustworthy¡ªor at least competent enough to avoid disaster. ¡°Alright,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°I¡¯ll give it a try.¡± Arin smiled, a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. She hadn¡¯t been sure he¡¯d agree, but having him on the team greatly improved their chances. Originally, she¡¯d planned to have Kate kite the zombies, given her rogue speed. But Kate¡¯s low constitution and defense meant she¡¯d be one-shot if anything went wrong. Michael, on the other hand, had both speed and the durability of a warrior. Paul gave a casual nod. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll take the hits. You just do the slicing and dicing.¡± Joe raised a hand in greeting, a slightly sheepish smile on his face. ¡°I¡¯ll keep you alive. Just don¡¯t do anything too reckless.¡± The atmosphere turned more harmonious, easing the tension that had been created. The group set out together, forming a basic but effective formation. Michael and Paul took the front line while the rest supported from behind. Michael had to admit, hunting in a team was far more efficient. Joe¡¯s [Aura Armor of Protection] buffed him, reducing physical damage by 10%. On their first hunt, Michael drew the attention of three groups of level 8 zombies, totaling eighteen. It was a chaotic dance of slashes, dodges, and blocks. Despite his best efforts, he took some hits. Slick! Slick! -18 -14 A claw raked his left side, and another nicked his right arm as he raised it to block a blow. His health dropped by 14%. [Cure Wounds] +24 Joe¡¯s healing spell washed over him, mending the damage and keeping him in the fight. Meanwhile, Kate proved her worth as a sharpshooter. Her arrows flew with precision, interrupting zombies that got too close and landing final blows with skills like [Bullseye], [Strong Shot], and [Precision Strike]. Paul, clad in heavy armor, shielded the group¡¯s backline, while Arin prepared her ace in the hole: [Searing Smite]. It was a first-class spell, but its one-minute chant time and two-minute cooldown made it tricky to use. Michael¡¯s task was the most dangerous. He danced around the zombies, slashing and parrying while ensuring their attention remained on him. His focus wasn¡¯t on killing but on surviving and depleting their health bars. The seconds felt like hours, and the strain of constant movement took its toll. A sharp whistle cut through the air¡ªArin¡¯s signal. Michael gritted his teeth and focused on breaking free. He targeted the zombies on his left, unleashing a combo: [Triple Slash], followed by [Tornado Slash], and then [Dash] to escape the encirclement. For good measure, he used [Power Blow] to create distance, draining the last of his spirit energy. BOOM! The explosion was deafening. A massive fireball, two meters in diameter, crashed into the zombie horde. The ones at the center took -80 damage, while those at the edges lost -60. Flames spread outward, dealing continuous burn damage of -5 per second. Most of the zombies were obliterated. The few that survived were swiftly picked off by Kate¡¯s arrows. As the last zombie fell, experience notifications flooded their screens. +80 XP Michael, being the lowest level, was the only one to level up. A soft glow enveloped him as he hit level 6, rejuvenating his spirits. Eager to continue improving, he allocated his six attribute points¡ªthree to agility and three to reaction speed. [Agility]: 21.46 [Reaction]: 20.98 [Ding!] [Your agility has exceeded 20 points.] [Due to your Nova Physique talent, you have obtained the skill: Shunpo (Epic).] [DPSA] Chapter 11: Ambush Chapter 11: Ambush [Ding] [Your agility has exceeded 20 points.] [Due to your Nova Knight talent, you have obtained the skill: Shunpo (Epic).] Surprised by the notification, Michael remembered that his Nova Knight talent granted new skills whenever his attributes surpassed specific thresholds. However, he hadn¡¯t expected his first skill to be an Epic (purple) one. That rarity was almost unheard of¡ªtruly worthy of an S-rank talent. A surge of warmth spread through his body, starting from his spine and coursing down his legs. It was overwhelming, painful, and paralyzing. Michael clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to scream. The rest of the group was nearby, and he didn¡¯t want to draw any unnecessary attention. After what felt like an eternity, the pain subsided, replaced by a cool, refreshing sensation that left him feeling light and energized. [Shunpo (Epic)] [Level 1] [Passive: +100% movement speed, +100% reaction speed.] [Active: Designate a target and travel to it at 500% movement speed. The Next strike will do 50% damage. 100% if the target never sees you] [Cost: 50 Spirit. Cooldown: 7 seconds.] Michael¡¯s eyes widened as he read the skill description. It was absurdly powerful, far beyond anything he had ever seen. The combination of mobility and reaction speed made it a game-changer. He couldn¡¯t help but grin at the possibilities this opened for him. ¡°What¡¯s with that smile?¡± Arin¡¯s voice pulled him back to reality. Michael froze, realizing he¡¯d been grinning like an idiot. He quickly tried to compose himself, forcing a more neutral expression. ¡°Nothing. I¡¯m just happy I leveled up. My talent granted me a new skill related to speed.¡± Arin blinked, processing his words. ¡°Wait¡­ you¡¯re saying your talent gives you skills?¡± Michael nodded. ¡°Exactly. Every time I surpass a certain threshold in an attribute, I unlock a skill.¡± Arin¡¯s jaw tightened, her thoughts racing. She had only heard of a handful of talents capable of granting skills, and even then, they were usually tied to affinities or minor upgrades¡ªnot outright new abilities. This revelation made one thing abundantly clear: Michael wasn¡¯t just strong. He was a genius. On one hand, having someone this talented in her party was exciting. On the other hand, the gap between them would only grow wider as time went on. A part of her wondered if he¡¯d even stick around once he realized just how far ahead he was destined to be.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Pushing those thoughts aside, Arin focused on the task at hand. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with that later,¡± she muttered under her breath. For now, they had a mission to complete. The group continued toward the Abandoned City of Deashal. After days of grinding, they had finally reached the necessary levels¡ªArin and the others at level 8, and Michael now at level 6. Their first goal was complete. Next up: blowing up zombies. Michael followed Arin and the others north-east toward Deashal, which didn¡¯t appear on his map as he had neither visited nor purchased the map with its location. Regardless, all he needed to do was stick with the group. Along the way, they continued hunting zombies, using their tried-and-true strategies to grind efficiently. After half an hour, the silhouette of Deashal loomed in the distance. The city was a crumbling husk of its former self, its skyline marred by decay and overgrowth. But just as they broke free of the forest, disaster struck. An arrow whizzed through the air, striking Joe, the priest, square in the neck. ¡°Ahhh!¡± Joe cried out, clutching his wound. Blood spurted from the injury as -30% HP flashed above his head. Worse still, the arrow¡¯s tip glowed green. Poison. [-2 HP per second.] The group immediately sprang into action. Frank, the tank, shoved Joe behind him, pulling a massive shield from his inventory to cover them both. Kate and Arin crouched low, scanning the area. ¡°There!¡± Kate shouted, pointing to a rocky outcrop ahead. Perched atop the rocks were several Goblins, all armed with crossbows and bows. Their elevated position gave them a clear line of sight on the group, and their poisonous arrows ensured that even a single hit was lethal. The goblins had the high ground, ranged weapons, and the element of surprise. Worse, they had stationed Goblin Shield Warriors at the base of the rocks to block any direct approach. Michael¡¯s mind raced. If they stayed where they were, they¡¯d be picked apart. ¡°We can¡¯t sit here and wait!¡± he barked, springing to his feet. Ducking under incoming arrows, Michael sprinted toward the rocks, his speed catching the goblins off guard. Two Shield Warriors lunged to intercept him, but he sidestepped their clumsy swings with ease. Using his momentum, he vaulted over them and landed on the narrow path leading up to the archers. At the top of the rock, he saw the source of their trouble. Three Goblin Archers were firing down on his teammates, while a Goblin Shaman looking like their leader stood behind them, finishing the chant for [Frost Breath]¡ªa spell designed to slow and immobilize its targets. Michael had no time to waste. Activating [Shunpo], he disappeared in a blur, reappearing in the midst of the goblins. Before they could react, he unleashed [Tornado Slash], his sword whirling in a deadly arc. [Critical Hit!] -50 HP. -30 HP. -29 HP. One archer dropped instantly, its lifeless body crumpling to the ground. The other two staggered, their health bars reduced by two-thirds. Panicked, they dropped their bows and pulled daggers, screaming in their guttural language. The Shaman, unfazed, pointed its staff at Michael and unleashed [Arcane Bolt], a violet projectile that struck him square in the chest. -35 HP Michael ignored the pain and closed the gap to the nearest archer. A swift slash ended its life, and with a quick [Dash], he pierced the second archer¡¯s throat before it could counter. Both collapsed, leaving only the Shaman. The Goblin Shaman froze, its yellow eyes wide with terror. It muttered something under its breath, but its spellcasting was too slow. Michael appeared in front of it in an instant, his blade raised. ¡°Too late,¡± he growled. With one final strike [Power Blow], the Shaman fell. The ambush was over. Chapter 12: Another Day, Another Survival Encounter Chapter 12: Another Day, Another Survival Encounter Michael approached the Shaman, which was hurling incomprehensible curses at him in its guttural tongue. With a single [Power Blow], he emptied its life bar, and the creature crumpled to the ground. Breathing heavily, he realized his Spirit was completely drained. Again. Frustrated, he silently promised himself to invest more attribute points into Intelligence and Wisdom at the next opportunity. After collecting the loot from the fallen Shaman, he climbed down from the elevated rock formation. The sounds of battle reached his ears¡ªhis allies were still engaged with the goblin warriors. Michael moved quickly, taking advantage of the chaos. Flanking the distracted goblins, he dispatched them efficiently from behind. It took them 40 seconds to eliminate them all. "Are you guys okay?" he asked, scanning his team for injuries. "We¡¯re fine," Kate replied, though her pale face and trembling hands told a different story. The group looked utterly disheveled. Several of them still had arrows sticking out of their armor, and Joe looked especially shaken. "Luckily, we brought detoxification potions," Kate added, gulping one down to counteract the lingering poison effects. Joe, however, seemed the most rattled. "I... I can¡¯t believe we almost died out here," he said, his voice quivering. The others reassured him. Making sure he was fine. Jake clapped Michael on the shoulder, his face brimming with gratitude. "Michael, that was insane! The speed you unleashed back there was unreal. I bet those goblins never saw you coming." The others chimed in with their thanks: "That was amazing!" "Glad you¡¯re on our team!" Their expressions were full of admiration and relief, and Michael couldn¡¯t help but smile. He was happy to have contributed to the group¡¯s survival. "No problem," he replied humbly. "Those goblins were strong, but they can''t beat our team." His modest response only endeared him further to the group, who now viewed him with a mixture of awe and gratitude. Arin, however, broke the moment of camaraderie with a reminder. "We need to leave this place immediately. There¡¯s no guarantee that was the only goblin party." "Right," Michael agreed, suddenly aware of their precarious situation. They were still deep in enemy territory, and their health bars weren¡¯t in great shape. After collecting the remaining loot from the battlefield, the group retreated back toward the safety of the forest. Day 4 Leaving his VR capsule, Michael took a deep breath, letting reality settle back into focus. He sat down to process the near-death encounter with the goblins. The problem, he realized, was their overconfidence. They had been too absorbed in slaughtering zombies to properly assess their surroundings. We need to be smarter, he thought grimly. Mark potential ambush points like caves, elevated terrain, or chokepoints on the map. Maybe even send recon. Stellarion wasn¡¯t like other games. The monsters didn¡¯t follow simple, predictable AI routines. They behaved like living, thinking creatures, capable of strategy and ambush tactics.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. After a while, Michael got up and went to grab breakfast. He made a mental note to discuss these strategies with Arin and the team during their next session. Leaving his house, Michael felt a quiet excitement build as he headed out to train and spend time with Annabelle. Those moments with her were quickly becoming the highlight of his days. He remembered one of her guilty pleasures¡ªcandy. Stopping by a small shop on the way, he picked up a packet of her favorite kind. When he arrived at the gym, Annabelle was already there, stretching and tying her shoes. He chuckled softly when she adjusted the laces a second time, even though they were already perfectly secure. It was one of her little habits, something uniquely her. Another was the collectible stickers she adored. Her gym bag was covered in them¡ªtiny, colorful symbols of her personality. They made her look more approachable, even playful, and Michael found it utterly endearing. "Guess what I brought?" Michael teased, holding up the candy. Annabelle¡¯s face lit up with delight, her eyes sparkling as she took the packet. "You remembered! We¡¯ll save these for after training," she said, tucking them into her bag with a grin. Their training had become a routine, and Michael cherished the progress he was making. "You¡¯ve gotten a lot stronger," Annabelle remarked, genuinely impressed as they sparred. Michael grinned. Thanks to [Shunpo] doubling his speed, his stats now rivaled those of a level 10 or 11 player. "You¡¯re not bad either," he replied, noting the subtle improvements in her movements. Based on her prowess, he guessed she was level 15 by now, far ahead of him. Despite a pang of jealousy, Michael felt nothing but pride for her. She had worked hard to reach that level, and he admired her determination. Their sparring session was intense. Annabelle still had the upper hand, leaving Michael bruised and out of breath, but she was patient and encouraging. She corrected his mistakes with a calm, steady tone and even slowed her movements to help him keep up. "Focus on your footwork," she advised, demonstrating a quick pivot. "Don¡¯t just rely on your speed¡ªcontrol it." Their training left him tired. After training, they freshened up and left the gym together. Michael offered her his hand, and though she hesitated briefly, she didn¡¯t pull away. Her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, and her pulse quickened as their fingers intertwined. "Shall we?" he asked, his voice light. Annabelle nodded, trying¡ªand failing¡ªto hide her blush. They shared the candy as they walked, laughing over small jokes and stories. Annabelle picked out her favorite pieces first, her playful quirks bringing a smile to Michael¡¯s face. "You¡¯re going to eat all the good ones," he teased, mock-pouting. "Finders keepers," she retorted. Michael laughed, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. These moments with Annabelle felt simple, but they meant everything to him. Lost in his bliss, he didn¡¯t notice the shadowy figures trailing them at a discreet distance. ***** "Not a word of what happened today to my family," Annabelle said, her tone like ice. She stood alone now, having parted ways with Michael, and addressed the two guards who had followed her. The warmth and lightness she had shown earlier were gone, replaced by a cold, commanding presence that radiated authority. Her piercing glare left no room for argument. The guards exchanged uneasy glances. They were stunned. They had watched her grow from a child into the strong, resolute woman before them. But this... this softer side of Annabelle¡ªthe one laughing, blushing, and acting like a girl in love¡ªwas entirely foreign to them. "What happened to that cold-blooded, killer like demeanor?" one guard muttered under his breath. The other shook his head. "It¡¯s still there. You saw how fast she switched back." He replied bewildered by her personality change. He worried she had developed mental problems. He had never seen someone change personality so quickly. To see her soft side show this way... The thought of this brought tears to their eyes. They had seen the young miss grown up, encountering all kind of events. Yet the difference of treatment between Michael and them was like night and day. Where did they go wrong? Why ? Their thoughts inevitably turned to Michael. The young man was a mystery to them, but one thing was clear: he was getting dangerously close to their young miss. "If he dares to hurt her..." one of them growled, his fists clenching. "...we¡¯ll make sure he regrets it," the other finished grimly. ***** Michael, now heading home, suddenly shivered. Did someone curse me? he wondered, rubbing the back of his neck. The odd sensation lingered for a moment before fading. Shrugging it off, he focused instead on how the day had gone. He replayed Annabelle¡¯s laugh, her blush, and the way her hand had felt in his. A small smile tugged at his lips as he walked on, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind him.