"Huh?" Chris's mind went completely blank. He didn't know this stranger who'd just made him an offer. Chris—rejected by the company, with no path left on the Hunter road. He was nothing but trash that had been tossed aside, and the instant that piece of trash hit the ground, someone picked it right back up. How could he not be stunned?

  "Sorry—did you say disciple? Me?"

  "Yes. I think you have talent." Jinyo flashed a warm smile at the young man who was nearly a decade his junior. That smile put people at ease—made them easy to win over. Chris looked no small amount confused. He knew he wasn't bad—he had some talent, sure—but if he couldn't prove his worth, none of it mattered.

  "My test scores were absolutely terrible. And I can't afford tuition either."

  "Hmm?" Jinyo blinked. He wondered if Chris thought he was some kind of con artist—the sort who charged students steep tuition fees without teaching them anything worthwhile. There were plenty of those: people hawking expensive courses that gave students nothing of value in return.

  "A person's potential isn't defined by test scores. If you can fight monsters, you'll prove your own worth. If you fail the exam, just take it again. As for tuition... my school isn't open yet. I'm planning to offer the first three months free. If you don't mind, would you like to come try being my student first? If you don't like it, you can leave."

  "Huh?" The first three months free—an offer like that existed?

  Wait. This guy said his school wasn't open yet. That meant he was still in the process of applying for a license. No wonder he was desperate enough for students to offer free classes. But that only made Chris more suspicious. A guy this young—how much teaching experience could he possibly have? Could he really help Chris grow strong enough to pass the Hunter exam?

  'Something doesn't add up.' Chris didn't trust it.

  "Why don't we just talk for a bit first? I think we've got plenty of time to kill." Jinyo glanced at the remaining exam queue—long enough to keep them chatting for another hour. Chris hesitated, but followed Jinyo to a seat. His situation was so dire it felt like there was no future left. He didn't want to rush home just yet. Spending one more hour here couldn't hurt.

  Chris told Jinyo about his circumstances. His family was drowning in debt and facing asset seizure any day now. If he didn't pass the Hunter exam, he'd have no income stream significant enough to help—and no scholarship to continue his education. His future as a Hunter would end right here. At this rate, he might not even have a home to go back to next month.

  'What a waste—all that talent, gone to nothing.'

  [Chris Bogard] Bloodline: Sprite Descendant (Unawakened) Planar: Common Tier 7 Element: Earth (F) Divine Armament: None Spirit: None Body: None

  Dominant Genes: [Sprite Bloodline ★★] [Swordsmanship ★★] [Agriculture ★] [Power Enhancement ★] Recessive Genes: [Unstable Mind ★] [Sprite's Curse ★★]

  Sprite Descendant (Unawakened): A bearer of sprite lineage. Possesses an innate talent for coexisting with nature. Has greater compatibility with Spirit Essence than Magic Essence. A Sprite Descendant's power is highly effective against incorporeal entities. Has high affinity with sprites—yet is equally despised by them.

  Sprite's Curse: A curse placed by sprites upon descendants they loathe. Sprites despise humans and are utterly revolted by offspring who carry human blood. Descendants of sprite bloodline who have not yet been accepted will encounter persistent misfortune. They cannot maintain focus under pressure. All stats suffer a ?20 penalty when under stress.

  'He has talent. If I can just break through his weaknesses, he'll be a capable fighter.' Jinyo had watched Chris's movements—erratic and sloppy. It was as if the moment he stepped onto the stage, his combat IQ plummeted. If his Intelligence, Reflexes, and Psychic Power all vanished under pressure, he couldn't leverage his standout Strength no matter how high it was.

  The Sprite's Curse only activated when Chris was stressed. It was impossible for him not to feel stress in a high-pressure environment. But his talent couldn't be ignored. He had a two-star gift in swordsmanship, and being a Sprite Descendant meant he could form contracts with high-level sprites—if the sprites' hatred toward him could be resolved.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Chris's sword path was that of the Sprite Swordsman—a perfect fit for training under Jinyo, who possessed the Garden of the Sword. Chris was worthless garbage to everyone else, but under Jinyo, he'd be an excellent student. However, given Chris's current financial situation and future prospects, if Jinyo didn't extend a hand, Chris would never continue down the Hunter's path.

  "How about this: I'll hire you to help maintain the garden at my home. I'll pay you a salary while you study under me. But if you're satisfied with the lessons and decide to stay, I'll stop the wages and consider your labor as tuition payment instead."

  "What?" Chris's eyes went wide. An offer like this... actually existed? Not just free lessons—he'd get paid too. It was practically being hired to learn. Well, no—he'd be trading labor for wages. But still, for someone in his position, it was a phenomenal deal.

  "But..." Chris's smile faded. No matter how generous the salary Jinyo offered, it would never match Hunter-level income. In the end, he still couldn't save his home.

  "Within two months, I promise I'll help you pass the Hunter exam. By then, you'll be earning more than enough to support your family."

  "Two months? Why are you so confident you can help me?"

  "Because I'm a good teacher. You don't have to answer right away. I want to help as much as I can—because I once stood in a similar place." Jinyo picked up a pen, wrote down his phone number and other contact information, and pressed it into Chris's hand. Chris accepted it, bewildered by the opportunity that had dropped out of the sky. Jinyo felt uneasy—he wanted students, yes, but a student without the will to learn was meaningless. More importantly, he hadn't yet proven his own worth enough to earn this young man's trust.

  This was a post-Collapse world still in recovery. Some kids as young as fifteen had already dropped out of school to find work. Everyone was forced into adulthood early—pressured to have children and carry their bloodlines to the next generation. It was as if time had rewound five hundred years. Jinyo scanned the grounds, hoping to spot another student whose talent was being suppressed like Chris's. But there was no one else.

  Except for Luciria—who cleared Level 30 in 29 minutes and 58 seconds. It had been razor-close on time, but her performance surpassed nearly every adult. Those who fancied themselves her future instructor watched Luciria with gleaming eyes—yet in equal measure, worried about how they could possibly teach a student of her caliber.

  Even if someone became Luciria's teacher, failing to help her improve would be unacceptable. No matter how wealthy an employer, nobody wanted to keep dead weight around.

  "It seems quite a few have lost heart, Young Master," said James, the senior butler, observing the insects who'd been eyeing their young lady as they slunk away one by one. These insects came in two varieties: those who were self-aware enough to admit defeat, and those shamelessly scheming to ride Luciria's coattails in the future.

  "The only person truly qualified to be Lucy's teacher is Nephrin, after all." Sven closed his eyes. It would have been perfect if Nephrin had claimed first place in this exam. But at every stage, she'd been outperformed by Theo. Theo as a teacher might work in theory, but judging by his personality, he wasn't the type to instruct anyone. Ultimately, the last viable option was Nephrin—second to Theo in raw power, but possessing the qualities of a proper educator.

  "Actually, Miss Nephrin isn't the only qualified candidate, Young Master."

  "Then who else could—no. You don't mean him, do you, James? You should know better than I do that it's impossible." Sven seemed to know exactly who James was referring to.

  "Nothing is impossible. At the end of the day, the Master simply wishes for Lady Luciria to become an exceptional swordswoman. Miss Nephrin may be an outstanding teacher, but her specialty is magic—not swordsmanship. Ultimately, the young lady will need a swordsmanship instructor regardless."

  "You mean..." Sven's eyes widened at the butler's words. How had he not thought of this? Jinyo didn't need to be the primary instructor—he could co-teach alongside Nephrin. That way, Jinyo would serve as Lucy's swordsmanship teacher, while she could rely on Nephrin's connections and status as a primary disciple. All they needed was for Jinyo to serve as a secondary instructor.

  "But it's still difficult."

  "Indeed. The Master would certainly object to having the young lady study Poem of a Hundred Blooms. The most effective approach would be for him to prove his worth sufficiently. Or alternatively... the technique he teaches would need to be something other than Poem of a Hundred Blooms."

  Don't leave me...

  I don't want to be alone.

  Mama... Mama...

  In a world of pitch darkness, everything reduced to white lines against a black void, a little girl waited in a room with no sound or sunlight. She'd imprisoned herself, keeping everyone at bay. All she wanted was to be held—to breathe in a familiar scent. That was the one and only thing Ryse wished for.

  She woke from the nightmare. The freezing blast of air conditioning made her small body shiver. Ryse still had a slight fever, though it wasn't nearly as high as before. The blood refinement process had slowed. Ryse had begged and pleaded with Naho to bring her to the exam site.

  She didn't want to be left behind. She wanted to feel Mama's embrace. Naho's arms were just as warm and soft, but Ryse wanted Mama—not Naho. Mama Norn was far, far away, in a place Ryse couldn't reach. At the very least, being with Mama Rina would be enough.

  'Mama.' Tears spilled from Ryse's eyes. She watched Naho humming a tune while driving. The car sped through the Training Center's entrance gate. Naho opened the passenger door, scooped up her niece—bundled in a blanket—and sprinted into the white building. She dashed all the way to the exam grounds. She spotted Rina and Gretel almost immediately—because only one person was dressed head-to-toe in black, as if perpetually attending a funeral.

  "Mama." Ryse called out in a plaintive whimper. Rina turned to see Ryse stretching her arms, trying to escape Naho's hold to reach her. Rina took the little girl into her arms. She still had a mild fever, but her body wasn't nearly as hot as back at the manor. Ryse was big for her age, but Rina cradled her like a four- or five-year-old, gently rocking her to calm the child's anxious heart.

  "Hmph." Gretel watched Ryse with a jealous scowl. She's my mom too, you know. But since Ryse was sick, he'd let it slide—just this once.

  "Ugh—running off like that really stings, you know," Naho pressed a hand to her chest dramatically. In the end, I'm still not Ryse's safe place.

  "Where's Big Bro?"

  "He hasn't tested yet. His name's about to be called." Rina pointed to the roster being announced. As if on cue, Jinyo's name flashed across the giant screen.

  [Jinyo Southerncross — Report to Stage 8]

  Jinyo gripped a wooden sword and walked onto the stage. Thousands of eyes locked onto him. Jinyo wasn't as prominent as examinees like Luciria, Theo, or Nephrin—yet he drew just as much attention as any of them. It wasn't just the famous surname. It was the inhuman Psychic Power and the 0.01% Cultivation Rate.

  Jinyo had carved out an identity that made everyone watch, even though not a single person expected anything from him. The moment he ascended the stage, something else stunned the crowd: his weapon. It wasn't a metal blade. It wasn't an Ether weapon. It was just a plain, beat-up wooden sword.

  "Holy shit! This guy is insane!" Noktis burst out laughing. Bringing a practice wooden sword to the exam—he'd thought there might be some hidden trump card up the guy's sleeve. Turns out this fool was just throwing the match.

  "Heh." Joden couldn't contain himself any longer, savoring the chance to curse Jinyo from below the stage.

  "Oh hell yeah—now that's what I'm talking about, brother!" Theo leaped from his seat and rushed to grip the edge of the stage. Everyone else assumed Jinyo had lost his mind, but only those who knew him well understood: this was an everyday sight. No matter how fearsome the enemy, Jinyo would face it with a wooden sword.

  The only time he drew a real blade was against the Unknown.

  'Body condition—ready.'

  'Mind and focus—excellent.'

  'Energy pathways—flawless.' The jeering and commotion around him didn't penetrate Jinyo's ears in the slightest.

  The only thing that held his attention was the tin can in front of him—the one that had crushed so many people's dreams. A single thought blazed through his mind: the desire to destroy it in the blink of an eye.

  "Begin the exam." The official gave the signal. The clock began its thirty-minute countdown. In the fraction of a second it took the combat dummy to twitch, Jinyo's Sword Intent surged forth alongside a blade that lashed outward.

  CRACK!!

  The wooden sword struck the combat dummy's neck—razor-sharp and dead-on.

  Within one second of the fight's start, the dummy's level shifted from 1 to 2.

  "Poem of a Hundred Blooms. First Form." Pink Planar drifted through the air, blanketing the entire stage.

  Peach Blossom Dance.

  The sword forms hammered the combat dummy in a relentless barrage—no pause, no rest. The number on its display changed from 2 to 3. Within five seconds of the exam's start, the combat dummy's level had risen to Level 4.

  Something no other examinee had achieved in this entire session.

  "If that dummy were a monster—" Antonio popped a lollipop into his mouth and smiled.

  "—it would already be dead four times over."