The door to the apartment hadn’t even fully swung open before Lance was met with a heavy, resentful sigh.

  He turned to find Lillian staring at him, her eyes red and puffy. A pang of guilt hit him—he’d completely forgotten to tell his sister he’d be gone for a few days. During the Federal Unified Exam, all communication frequencies were placed in an Absolute Silence Zone.

  "How could I not come back? If I’m not here, who’s going to look after a silly girl like you?" Lance smiled, reaching out to ruffle her hair.

  "Hmph! You didn't even send me a single text!" Lillian protested, her face flushed with anger.

  "It was an emergency. Anyway, look at this." Lance shrugged, pulling a metallic badge from the inner pocket of his tactical jacket.

  The moment Lillian saw the badge, she gasped, covering her mouth in horror.

  "Is that... a Professional Badge? Bro, where did you find that? You have to take it to the Profession Guild right now! Possessing Guild property is a prison sentence!" Lillian cried, frantically grabbing Lance’s sleeve.

  "Why would I return it? It’s mine." Lance laughed at her overreaction. He tapped the chip inside the badge to activate it. "I’m an officially registered Professional now."

  Hum—

  The badge projected a pale blue holographic screen. Floating in the air was a 3D facial scan—it was unmistakably Lance.

  Lillian froze. She stared at the projection, her brain struggling to process the image. "Bro, you... you actually..."

  "Pretty cool, right?" Lance smirked, tilting his head.

  But Lillian’s next reaction caught him completely off guard.

  "You actually faked the Guild’s database! Destroy it! Now! If the Chief Inspector finds out, you’ll be executed on the spot!" Lillian lunged for the badge, intent on smashing it.

  "Stop, stop! Do you really think I’m that stupid? It’s real!"

  Lance didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Just two days ago, he was a failure who couldn't even hit a 500kg punch, a reject from the Advanced War Academy. Now he was a licensed Professional. It was a hard sell.

  He spent the next twenty minutes explaining his whereabouts. He left out the System, of course, claiming he had finally broken through to Bronze Rank, Tier 1. As for the sudden power spike? He chalked it up to awakening a rare Supernatural Trait. He explained it as Evolutionary Compensation—the theory that his body had been storing years of energy and released it all at once.

  In the Great Cosmic Era, such anomalies were rare but documented. Some geniuses with S-Rank Traits had been known to jump from Apprentice Warrior to Silver Rank in less than ten days. In an era of mutations and cosmic wonders, "impossible" was a relative term.

  To seal the deal, Lance grabbed a high-strength alloy ornament from the table.

  CRACK!

  The alloy block, designed to withstand two tons of pressure, crumbled in his grip like a dry biscuit.

  "What?! You’re really a Bronze Rank Warrior? Does that mean... you can apply for the Imperial Royal War Academy?!" Seeing that terrifying grip strength, Lillian finally broke into a jubilant hop.

  "Yeah, getting into a top-tier provincial school shouldn't be a problem. But President Alistair from the Silvermoon branch suggested I take a special trial. I’m heading out tomorrow," Lance said, mixing truth with a bit of cover story.

  "Be careful, okay? I’ve heard the mortality rate for those special trials is insane," Lillian warned, her excitement dipping into worry.

  "Don't worry. The certification came with a fat bonus. Come on, let’s go get a real meal! Once the trial is over, we’re moving to a luxury apartment in the Core District!"

  Lance watched his sister’s eyes light up. Moving to the Core District, far away from the Slums where Void Beast attacks were a daily threat, had been their dream for years. Now, it was within arm's reach.

  Two hours later, Lance returned home.

  He handed the remaining bottle of alchemy potion to Lillian. This batch was high-purity, capable of boosting cultivation efficiency by five times. By his math, Lillian would hit Bronze Rank, Tier 1 within six months. A thirteen-year-old Bronze Rank would cause a sensation in Silvermoon City—a talent second only to Lance himself.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "Awoo?"

  The moment the potion appeared, Noir—who had been napping in Lance’s pocket—scrambled out, drooling at the bottle.

  Zip!

  Noir turned into a black blur, lunging for the vial.

  "You’ve had enough. This is for your sister," Lance said, his reflexes sharp as he snatched the greedy little dragon mid-air by the scruff of its neck.

  "Awoo—" Noir hung limp, giving his master the most pathetic puppy-dog eyes he could muster.

  "Whoa, a little lizard! Bro, is this your pet? It’s so ugly... but, like, ugly-cute!" Lillian reached out, poking Noir’s head with a slender finger.

  "Awoo?!"

  As a noble Infernal Cerberus-Dragon, Noir’s scales bristled at the word "ugly." He began flailing his tiny claws in protest. If word of this reached the Dragon Territories, his reputation would be ruined.

  "He is pretty hideous. Play with him if you want. Just drink the potion before this little thief sneaks a sip." Lance laughed, stuffing the miniaturized Noir and the potion into his sister’s hands before retreating to his room to check his System rewards.

  System Alert: You have one unread private message. Would you like to open it?

  Lance opened his communication interface. His inbox was flooded with hundreds of frantic messages from Lillian over the past two days.

  "I really scared her," he muttered, a pang of sadness hitting him. He promised himself he’d stay in touch from now on.

  After clearing his sister's messages, he noticed another set of unread alerts.

  "Wait... messages from Lorraine? A bunch of them?"

  Lorraine was Lance’s employer, and the daughter of a Duke in Silvermoon City. In this brutal world, Lance—a war orphan—had started scavenging Void Beast carcasses in the Wilderness Hunting Zone at a young age just to survive. It was high-mortality work.

  During his fourth scavenge, he’d been cornered by a Tier 1 Void Beast. Luck had been on his side; the "Duke" of the Lorraine Consortium had been passing by with his retinue and saved him. Upon learning Lance was a classmate of his daughter, the Duke offered him a job: a sparring partner.

  In reality, he was a human punching bag. He’d spent three years helping Lorraine practice Basic Military CQC. Thanks to his freakish durability and deep understanding of combat, he’d lasted longer than anyone else in the position. While they’d seen less of each other lately as Lorraine’s power grew, three years of shared sweat and bruises had built a genuine bond.

  "Damn it! Yesterday was Lorraine’s birthday!" Lance slapped his forehead. He owed the Lorraine family a lot. Lorraine never pulled her punches during training, but she always made sure he had access to her family’s expensive Med-Pods afterward. It was that constant "injury-recovery" loop that had forged his physique into something beyond the norm.

  He scrolled down.

  The second message said the banquet had been delayed until tonight at 8:00 PM because a VIP couldn't make it.

  The third message, sent just minutes ago, read: Lance, are you here yet?

  Lance checked his terminal.

  "Crap! 7:40! If she hadn't rescheduled, I would’ve missed it entirely."

  He fired off a quick reply, grabbed his jacket, and bolted out the door.

  Private Floating Manor, Lorraine Consortium.

  "Sweetheart, it's time. Everyone who matters in Silvermoon City is here to celebrate your awakening."

  The Duke walked into his daughter’s room, a proud smile on his face.

  Lorraine had successfully awakened the C-Rank Trait: Flame Affinity. It meant she had a thirty percent chance of becoming a C-Rank Elite, perhaps even reaching the threshold of the Silver Rank. For the Lorraine Consortium—currently a second-tier power—this was their ticket to the big leagues.

  "I know, Father. I’ll be right out."

  Lorraine answered distractedly, refreshing her messages again. Still no reply from Lance.

  "Hmph. That guy... how dare he ignore me!" Lorraine muttered. Had he really forgotten?

  "Waiting for that Lance kid?" The Duke saw right through her.

  "No! Who’s waiting for him?!" Lorraine’s cheeks flushed as she denied it.

  The Duke sighed. "Good. The boy has character, and I know he saved you once, but his talent is bottom-tier. He’s destined to struggle in the mud of the Slums. You two live in different worlds now."

  "Father! Stop it! Lance and I are just friends. Besides, weren't you 'talentless' when Mother married you?" Lorraine shot back.

  The Duke choked on his words, waving a hand dismissively. "Fine, fine. Do what you want."

  He sometimes regretted hiring Lance. But then he remembered a year ago, when a rival company sent assassins after Lorraine. If Lance hadn't sensed the danger and stepped into the path of a tactical laser bolt, he would have lost his daughter.

  "Whew. Made it."

  Lance had dropped a few hundred Credits on an express anti-gravity shuttle to reach the manor.

  "That’s a lot of people. Usually, it’s just family. There must be hundreds here tonight."

  Lance straightened his collar, scanning the crowd. Clearly, the news of a C-Rank Trait had brought out every social climber in the city. Suddenly, his eyes locked onto a portly figure in the distance.

  "Lewis Industries? Even Baron Lewis showed up?"

  Lance’s eyes went cold. Lewis Industries was the shadow behind the assassination attempt on Lorraine last year. That fat bastard, Baron Lewis, had been the commander on the ground. The bolt had been meant for Lorraine, but it was Lance who had nearly died.

  I need to find a way to wipe out House Lewis, Lance thought, a flicker of killing intent in his eyes. Otherwise, that scar on my chest was for nothing.

  "Look! Lady Lorraine is here!"

  The room went quiet.

  All eyes turned to the grand spiral staircase. Dressed in a formal gown, Lorraine descended, looking more radiant than ever. In this era where beauty was often a byproduct of genetic optimization, she was breathtaking.

  Lorraine scanned the hall, her eyes searching. Finally, they landed on Lance.

  The moment she saw him, her icy, regal expression melted into a brilliant, genuine smile. For a second, everything else in the room seemed to fade into the background.

  Then, her gaze shifted to the fat man standing near him. Her face darkened instantly. She pointed a finger and shouted:

  "Baron Lewis! Who gave you permission to enter my home? Get the hell out!!"