Arthur's gaze darkened slightly. "And how do I do that?"
Adam smiled, tilting his head slightly, studying him like a puzzle he was slowly piecing together. "Tell me, what talent do you have?"
Arthur's expression didn't waver. He had expected this question—it was inevitable. The military had been keeping tabs on him, and now that he was officially within their grasp, they were going to dissect every little detail about him.
He met Adam's gaze evenly. "Luck."
For the first time, Adam's expression cracked, his composed demeanor slipping just slightly. His eyebrows lifted in surprise, the reaction instinctive before he quickly schooled his features back into neutrality. But Arthur had already seen it. That tiny moment of shock.
Luck. It was a talent that was both revered and resented. Those who had it were envied, and those who didn't often dismissed it as superstition. But deep down, everyone knew—luck wasn't just chance. It was fate a hidden force that determined who survived and who perished.
Adam exhaled, tapping his fingers against his arm as he studied Arthur further. It made sense.
The speed at which Arthur had gained wealth, the rarity of the items he had in his possession—things that shouldn't be possible for an ordinary player. He was the first to sell uncommon items in bulk.
The first to sell rare items like they were mere trinkets. His name had become synonymous with wealth and exclusivity.
The puzzle pieces in Adam's mind were clicking into place.
"What grade is it?" Adam asked, his tone calm, but there was something sharper lurking beneath his words.
Arthur's answer was immediate, smooth. "A-grade."
It was a believable answer. Anything less than A-grade would have been suspicious.
No one rises to the top with mere B-grade talent, not at the speed Arthur had. But saying it was S-grade would have raised even more eyebrows—an S-grade Luck talent would be far too rare, too conspicuous.
No, A-grade was perfect. High enough to justify his success, low enough to keep himself from becoming an outright target.
Adam nodded slowly, absorbing the information, his expression unreadable. "Dual talented?"
Arthur knew this was coming too. He didn't hesitate. "Yeah."
Adam leaned forward slightly. "And your summoning talent?"
Arthur kept his face neutral. "C-rank."
Adam's reaction was subtle but there. A flicker of skepticism. He was analyzing the information, weighing it, but he had no concrete way to disprove Arthur's words.
C-rank summoning wasn't unusual. It wasn't weak, nor was it particularly strong. It was just… average. And in Adam's mind, that made sense.
Arthur's summoning ability wasn't what had drawn attention. It was the sheer number of rare items he had accumulated. If his summoning was C-rank, then it explained why he only had a few summons, and why they weren't particularly overwhelming in battle.
Adam crossed his arms, seemingly satisfied—for now. "Luck and Summoning. Not a bad combination."
Arthur smirked faintly, leaning back. "I make do."
Adam let out a small chuckle, but there was no humor in it. "No, you do much more than that, Fateless."
Arthur didn't respond, letting the silence linger between them.
Adam's eyes sharpened. "You do realize what kind of advantage an A-grade Luck talent gives you, don't you?"
Arthur noddrr. "I assume it makes things go in my favor more often than not."
Adam scoffed. "That's an understatement. A talent like yours doesn't just affect you—it changes everything around you. In the right hands, it can turn someone into an elite. And in the wrong hands…"
He let the words hang.
Arthur remained silent. He knew what Adam was getting at. With a Luck talent that high, Arthur always had an advantage.
It was fate ironically.
And people like Adam—people in power—knew exactly how dangerous someone like that could be.
"You understand now why we're interested in you?" Adam finally said, his voice quieter, but heavier.
"You could say that I do," Arthur replied, his tone measured. "But you're still giving me too much credit."
Adam raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"
Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "Well, in an ideal world, I'd have an A-grade luck talent and a C-grade summoning talent. That's it."
"But unfortunately, it's not so simple." His voice lowered slightly, and for the first time, a shadow of something unreadable flickered across his face. "I am… cursed."
Adam's expression sharpened. "Cursed?"
Arthur nodded. "Yes. My luck talent comes with a flaw, something to balance it out. You could say it's Armageddon's way of making sure I don't have everything handed to me on a silver platter."
Adam's eyes narrowed. "And what exactly is that flaw?"
Arthur exhaled, leaning slightly against a nearby tree. "My leveling speed—it's halved compared to others. No matter how much I fight, how many monsters I kill, I gain experience at half the normal rate. So, despite all the advantages my talent gives me, I'm relatively weaker than I should be."
Adam frowned, processing the information. "That doesn't make sense. Even if that were true, you should still be much stronger than most players."
Arthur simply shrugged. "It's a limitation. A major one. My summons do most of the work, and my level growth suffers because of it."
Adam studied him carefully. His military-trained mind was dissecting every word, analyzing the truth behind them. Then his gaze sharpened.
"What level are you?"
Arthur hesitated for the briefest moment before answering. "Six."
Adam's expression darkened instantly. "Six?"
The single word carried so much weight that the forest seemed to quiet around them. A bird cawed in the distance, but neither of them moved.
"Level six?" Adam repeated, his voice carrying a thread of disbelief. "That's impossible."
"It's the truth," Arthur said plainly. "Level six. That's where I stand."
Adam's jaw clenched. "That doesn't add up. Level six is the average level in the village. You're telling me that someone with an A-grade talent and a C-grade summoning talent is the same level as the average player?"
Arthur nodded. "Exactly."
"You're lying to me."