The manager’s eyes lingered on Adam, a flicker of awe, and something close to disbelief, crossed his face.
Has he... re-awakened his talent.
His pulse quickened at the possibility.
He continued to watch Adam in silence, studying his calm, detached expression.
I thought it was just a legend.
When the manager was young, back in the upper-tier sectors of the Outer Zone where he’d grown up, he’d often heard strange rumors whispered among martial artists.
Tales about the Rankless grade of special talents, the ones everyone mocked and discarded as useless.
He had always dismissed those tales as fantasy.
But now, seeing Adam standing before him, the impossible proof of strength wrapped in human skin, those old rumors resurfaced vividly in his mind.
It was often said that Rankless special talents were even rarer than others, despite their status, because they were the only ones capable of re-awakening.
The act of re-awakening, the process of evolving past one’s natural limits and transforming into something far greater, that was the myth.
No record or official report had ever confirmed it.
Yet the rumor had persisted across generations.
The manager clenched his jaw lightly.
That must be it... it’s the only explanation for his sudden surge in power.
As he was lost in thought, Adam suddenly noticed the man’s sharp, unblinking gaze fixed squarely on him.
A faint crease formed between his brows.
What’s wrong with him?
If Adam had known what the manager was imagining, he would’ve laughed or told him to stop overthinking things.
The truth was simpler and stranger: he hadn’t reawakened any talent at all. He just happened to possess two talents whose synergy was so absurdly perfect that even he still had trouble believing it.
But Adam couldn’t read minds, so the manager was free to think whatever he wanted.
After a long pause, the manager finally spoke, his tone formal but restrained.
"Mr. Adam, since we’re done with the verification, please follow me to my office to collect your reward."
Adam gave a simple nod.
"Alright."
He slung his bloodstained backpack over his shoulder and followed the manager through the corridor, his steady footsteps echoing softly behind the older man.
Meanwhile, the martial artists who had been watching the entire scene slowly began to disperse.
Some returned to their tables, though most whispered excitedly among themselves, already planning to spread the news of what had happened in the mission hall today.
But Juli, the fox woman, remained where she stood long after the others had gone. Her golden eyes lingered on the empty hallway where Adam had disappeared.
No Rank... and yet.
Her tail flicked slowly.
She shook her head, exhaling softly through her nose before turning back toward the Martial Market.
"Unbelievable." she muttered, disappearing into the crowd.
****
The manager’s office was simple in design, it was practical, clean, and quiet.
A large desk stood in front of a wide window, sunlight spilling across its polished surface.
One chair faced the door, and two others sat opposite, facing the window.
A sofa rested by the wall near the door, its dark leather worn from use.
By the sides of the window stood a bookshelf, its shelves neatly lined with records and thick manuals.
Two flower pots flanked the manager’s desk; one on each side, filled with bright green leaves and tiny red blossoms.
"Mr. Adam, you can have a seat while I process your rewards," the manager said, settling behind his desk.
Adam nodded and sat in one of the chairs facing the window.
The manager didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the blood still drying on Adam’s jacket or the faint scent of iron that clung to him.
The soft clacking of keys filled the air as the manager accessed the mission system.
After a moment, he glanced up and said,
"Mr. Adam, it seems you have an outstanding debt of $10,000 from your first attempt at Gob Valley, which ended in failure."
Adam didn’t flinch.
"Yes," he said evenly, then added, "but the reward from the perfect run should be enough to cover that, right?"
A small, approving smile tugged at the manager’s lips.
"It’s more than enough," he replied, tapping the last few commands into his console. A faint ding echoed from the system as the transfer completed.
"There we are. Your payment has been processed, and your debt has been fully cleared," the manager said, looking satisfied.
Adam nodded in acknowledgment. He couldn’t check his balance because he’d sold his phone weeks ago, after his money ran out.
I’ll have to go to the bank directly, and I still need to pay back that loan.
The thought didn’t trouble him much.
The monster parts in his backpack should fetch a decent price, at least, he hoped so.
Looking up, Adam asked,
"Manager, where do I sell the monster parts?"
The older man paused, then offered a friendly smile.
"Don’t worry, Mr. Adam. I’ll handle that personally for you."
Adam inclined his head slightly.
"Thank you."
****
Adam stepped out of the bank, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he held a folded paper containing his account details.
The manager had just helped him sell the parts he’d harvested from Gob Valley, and now, for the first time in his life, he had a substantial amount of money in his account.
He glanced at the balance printed on the paper and couldn’t help but mutter under his breath,
"Never thought I’d see this much money at eighteen."
Balance: $42,500
This amount was only possible because of how lucrative the martial artist profession could be.
Normally, a run through an unranked Level 1 Rift would net around $5,000, but Adam had achieved a perfect run, multiplying his rewards by seven.
That brought in $35,000, and even after the $10,000 fine from his first Rift failure was deducted, he still walked away with $25,000.
But if that were all, entering Rifts wouldn’t be nearly as profitable.
Without a perfect run, most would barely earn enough to cover expenses.
The real money came from the monster parts, those he sold had brought in another $17,500.
It would’ve been more if he’d been able to bring back additional parts, but limited storage space and the fact that he’d mutilated most of them during the fight, cut into his profits.
Not that he blamed himself for that.
This was exactly why being a martial artist was such a sought-after profession.
Power didn’t just increase profits, it drastically reduced risk.
But while the average martial artist could still make a decent living from the Rifts, those below average often found the dangers far outweighed the rewards.
****
Thank you for reading.