“Uncle Aldo,” Kana asked as he unwrapped the food, “what skills do you have?”

  Aldo paused mid-bite, then gave a proud grin. “I’ve got [Marksmanship] and [Eagle Eye].”

  Kana’s eyes lit up. “That second one sounds cool!”

  “It helps,” he said with a shrug. “Let me see farther than most. Makes spotting trouble—or rabbits—much easier.”

  She leaned forward, curious. “Do you think it’s something only bow classes get?”

  “Could be,” he said. “Never seen a cook with [Eagle Eye], that’s for sure. How about you?”

  “I have [Marksmanship] too. And something called [Awareness].”

  Aldo raised an eyebrow. “It seems [Marksmanship] might have something to do with archery.”

  Kana nodded.

  Aldo stood and stretched. “Well then, if you’ve got [Marksmanship], that’s probably why the System nudged you toward the bow but I’m not certain if it has something to do with archery. ”

  He turned and started rummaging behind a supply crate near the tower. “This bow that I use is too heavy for you—it’s strung tight enough to punch through bark. But we’ve got a bow for practice somewhere...”

  Kana waited as he muttered and dug through old tools, boxes, and a bundle of hay that probably hadn’t moved since last spring.

  “Ah! Here we go.”

  He pulled out a simple wooden bow—light, curved, and worn smooth with use. He tested the string with a practiced tug, then handed it to Kana.

  “Start with this. You’ll get something stronger once your arms stop looking like sticks.”

  Kana took it carefully, her fingers instinctively testing the grip. It felt... right. Natural.

  ….

  Kana held the bow in her hands, the wood smooth but unfamiliar. She mimicked the motion Aldo had shown her moments earlier—feet shoulder-width apart, draw from the cheek, don’t tense the shoulders. A few meters away stood a makeshift target: a straw-stuffed scarecrow shaped vaguely like a man.

  She took a breath. In. Out. Steady hands.

  The string drew back with resistance, biting into her fingers. She adjusted, aimed at the head—the place she wanted the shot to land—and released.

  The arrow whistled through the air and thwack—sank right into the scarecrow’s skull.

  Aldo let out a low whistle. “Well now. Most of us in the [Bowman] class hit the target on our first try.... Your class might be even closer to the bow than we thought.”

  It should be.. It is [Ranger] after all.

  Kana let out a shaky breath. Her arms trembled slightly from the strain.

  Aldo’s smile faded into something more thoughtful. “You’re breathing hard. Pulling that string takes more out of you than we thought, huh?”

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  Kana tried again, drew the bowstring, but her arms faltered. The second arrow flew wide, grazing the dummy’s shoulder.

  Aldo chuckled. “Ah, I remember my younger days. I missed my second shot, too.”

  Kana lowered the bow. “I don’t think I can pull another one.”

  “That’s natural,” Aldo said, rubbing his chin. “I’ve taught a few kids with different classes. One was a [Swordsman]. Not much accuracy, but he could shoot twenty arrows in a row without sweating.”

  He picked up a nearby arrow and twirled it between his fingers. “But when we hunted monsters, his shots just bounced off. Mine?” He mimed drawing a bow. “Went straight through the monster. That’s the difference.”

  He glanced at her seriously. “When we fire, the system reinforces the shot. It’s not just muscle—it’s class compatibility. The more in tune your class is with your weapon, the more power each shot carries. But that also means…”

  Kana nodded, finishing his thought. “It drains more from us.”

  “Exactly.” He tossed the arrow back in the quiver. “So we don’t shoot for fun. We shoot to hit. Be precise.. Must wait for the right moment ‘cause every arrow counts.”

  Then, with a clap of his hands, he added, “But before that, we build stamina. One lap around the village every morning. No skipping.”

  Kana groaned. “That sounds like a terrible deal. All this work, and I barely get to shoot.”

  Aldo laughed. “That’s how it is.. You’ll get better.”

  Kana stared down at the bow in her hands. It felt heavy now, her muscles already protesting. But beneath the fatigue, there was something else—an excitement.

  …………

  “Kana! let’s see who racks up more laps today!”

  Boris grinned as he jogged past, sweat already soaking through the collar of his tunic. His stride was heavy, determined—less like a runner, more like a stubborn mule refusing to slow down.

  He’d made this part of his training routine, ever since he’d decided he was going to the Academy—three years from now. Spearmanship. Endurance. Everything a proper [Spearman] needed. Kana wasn’t sure if he was trying to impress the village elders or just himself.

  A few of the other Awakened children had joined them, their laughter echoing through the fields as they lapped the path with ease though they were so behind them. But one runner stood out beside them—a figure of shifting colors, barely shaped like a human, its form rippling like water catching light. Suri’s Summon.

  Kana didn’t even glance at Boris. She never rose to his baiting. But today… Today, she planned to win though she always somehow loses to Boris.

  She slowed beneath the shade of a tree, eyes narrowing as she spotted Suri lounging against the trunk, lazily chewing on a handful of some fruit.

  Still jogging in place, Kana called out, “You think that illusion summon’s going to do anything for your stamina?”

  Suri smirked. “You’d be surprised. I think it’s working. I feel stronger already.”

  Kana raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Is that really how it works?”

  “Boris is getting ahead of you,” Suri said, nodding toward the path. “You really want to fall behind?”

  Kana muttered a quiet curse and bolted.

  [Stats: Str:3 Agi: 8 Int: 8 Health: 12/12 Mana: 20/20]

  …………….

  Before bed, Kana sat cross-legged in her mother’s library, surrounded by half-open books and loose scrolls. The candlelight flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows that danced with every page turn.

  She wasn’t happy with the progress of her stats. It was way too slow so she’d been digging into dungeon records for weeks now, but tonight, she finally found something worthwhile. Bronze-ranked dungeons—generally ignored, their rewards too meager to bother seasoned adventurers—barely warranted a footnote in most guides. Still, two of them lay just beyond the village borders: one classified as low bronze, the other mid bronze.

  Most people wouldn’t have cared. But Kana wasn't like most people.

  She’d even taken a nap earlier in the afternoon, something she rarely allowed herself. But tonight required clarity and extra energy.

  The village was like a worn glove—she knew every path, every squeaky floorboard, every hidden trail children weren’t supposed to know. She’d mapped her route already. Slipping past the guards wouldn’t be a problem.

  This would be her first real night out. Her first dungeon. She didn’t expect loot—she wanted experience. A test.

  She would enter quietly, strike at the weakest monsters, and flee before things got dangerous. If she was lucky, she’d gain a little strength. If not—well, no one would even know she’d tried.

  Her heart beat steady as she closed the last book and blew out the candle.

  Time to move.