Kalyan learned the truth on the third day.
Point farming wasn't about killing monsters.
It was about not dying while being useful.
The Hunter Association's public board glowed with low-risk postings: perimeter patrols, post-raft cleanup, escort observation. Work meant for F-ranks to survive, not grow.
That alone told him everything.
Ledger:
"Humans call this 'safe progression.'
Translation: slow starvation."
Kalyan didn't argue.
The Reality of F-Rank Hunters
At the Association office, he stood among dozens of other F-ranks. Some were excited. Some terrified. Most were desperate.
No one talked about power.
They talked about rent, food, hospital bills.
That's when Kalyan understood why so many hunters stayed weak.
Ledger:
"Observation:
The system did not limit humans.
Humans limited themselves."
An official assigned him to a D–E border cleanup zone—no dungeon entry, just monster leakage suppression.
Safe. Boring. Low reward.
Perfect.
First Real Test: Not a Dungeon
The creature wasn't impressive.
A malformed E-tier crawler, leaking aura, half-dead after escaping a collapsed Raft.
Three F-ranks rushed it.
Two were injured within seconds.
Kalyan didn't charge.
He waited.
He watched its breathing pattern, the way its right limb dragged slightly, the unstable aura flow around its core.
Ledger:
"Optimal action window detected.
Probability of fatal counterattack: 9%."
He moved once.
One step. One punch.
Kinetic Fist detonated internally, collapsing the creature's core without tearing the body apart.
It dropped instantly.
Silence followed.
Points earned: 22
Cost applied: muscle strain (minor)
The others stared.
Not in awe.
In fear.
A Dangerous Reputation Begins
By the end of the day, word spread quietly:
"There's an F-rank who doesn't fight like one."
That was dangerous.
Ledger:
"Correct.
Attention accelerates interest."
From a nearby rooftop, someone watched.
Not an F-rank. Not even mid-tier.
A man wearing no Association insignia, aura compressed to near invisibility.
Ledger:
"Warning.
Observer detected.
Rank estimation: A-tier minimum."
Kalyan didn't react.
He pretended to be tired. Weak. Normal.
The observer smiled faintly… and left.
The Lie of Grinding
That night, Kalyan checked his total.
187 points.
Days of risk. Pain. Control.
Barely enough for a second F-tier skill.
Ledger:
"Do you understand now?"
"Yes," Kalyan said quietly.
"This isn't about grinding."
Ledger:
"Correct.
Point farming is a lie told to keep the weak alive just long enough to remain weak."
The real growth was elsewhere.
Rare events. Spontaneous Rafts. System-exclusive opportunities.
Things that killed most people.
Foreshadowing the Real Path
The shop flickered open briefly—locked sections glinting beyond reach.
Dragon Physiology (Fragment) — Locked
God Vessel Compatibility — Locked
Master Skill Imprints — Locked
Ledger:
"These are not bought with points alone.
They are unlocked through qualification."
"Which means?"
Ledger:
"Surviving situations designed to erase you."
Kalyan exhaled slowly.
Then smiled.
"Good."
Closing Hook
Outside, sirens wailed.
A new Raft signature appeared on the city map.
Unclassified. Unstable. Not yet reported.
Ledger:
"Opportunity detected.
Risk level: unacceptable.
Reward potential: exponential."
Kalyan stood up, tightening his gloves.
"Mark it," he said.
Ledger:
"Interest will compound."
"Let it."
As he stepped into the night, one truth settled firmly in his mind:
The Association trained hunters to survive.
The system was training him to stand against the world.
And the world hadn't noticed yet.