The soft ping of 25,000 credits hitting his account was a more intoxicating drug than any alchemical stimulant. It was proof of concept. It was power. And Lin Ke was already chasing the next high. He turned right around and walked back into the Guild's Mission Hall.
He strode past the same group of veteran tamers who had been whispering about him just hours before. This time, as he walked back to the C-Rank board, completely unscathed, and accepted another solo mission without even breaking stride, their cynical smirks were replaced by gaping mouths and stunned, silent disbelief. The quiet in his wake was more satisfying than any applause.
For the next week, Lin Ke became a ghost, a whirlwind of relentless efficiency haunting the C-Rank mission board, all set against the backdrop of the warm Jamaican nights. The day after the crabs, he was in the Blue Mountain foothills. A pack of Howler Wolves, famous for their cunning flanking tactics, had their strategy shattered when his Editor identified the alpha, allowing the Titan Vole to erupt a wall of stone from the ground, isolating their leader for a swift, brutal takedown. Reward: 30,000 credits.
Two days later, he was in the city's ancient, creepy crypts, the air thick with the smell of grave dirt and decay. The Grave-moss Golems there were a nightmare for most tamers, their bodies resistant to physical blows. The Titan Vole simply activated its crystalline armor, waded through their clumsy, grinding attacks as if they were made of paper, and methodically disassembled them by targeting the core structural weaknesses Lin Ke's Editor highlighted in their forms. Reward: 40,000 credits.
Mission after mission, cleared with an inhuman speed that left the Guild's clerks shaking their heads in disbelief. His name became a constant, blinking light on the 'Recently Completed Missions' feed. The whispers in the Mission Hall turned from skepticism to disbelief, and then to outright awe.
"He did it again! The Golem quest! A team of three from my unit took two days on that last month, and he soloed it in half a day!"
"How in the hell is he doing it? What is that pet of his?"
"I saw it. It ain't no Rock Vole. It's… something else. Something big."
He earned a nickname among the C-Rank regulars: "The Sweeper." Because a mission would get posted, Lin Ke would arrive, and the problem would just… get swept away. His bank account swelled, soaring past his championship winnings and climbing steadily toward the million-credit mark. He was building his war chest for the auction at a staggering rate.
On the eighth day, after turning in proof for his seventh C-Rank mission in as many days, the adrenaline that had fueled him finally wore off. The fatigue hit him like a physical blow as he stepped out of the mission kiosk. He was running on fumes, his body and mind screaming for rest. He decided to take a break, to head home and finally analyze the mountain of new combat data he'd gathered.
As he was walking through the Guild's main atrium, a quiet, polite voice cut through the noise.
"Mr. Lin Ke, a moment of your time, if you please."
Lin Ke turned, his exhausted mind jolting into high alert. A man in a sharp, impeccably tailored business suit was approaching. He looked completely out of place here, a sleek shark in a tank of grizzled fishermen, his polished shoes immaculate despite the dusty hall. His smile was polite, but his eyes were neutral, calculating.
"I am," Lin Ke replied, his posture straightening, his own exhaustion instantly masked by a wall of cautious neutrality.
The man gave a slight, perfect bow. "My name is Silas. I am an aide to Executive Director Thorne of the Guild's Resource Management Division."
The name dropped into the air with a heavy, significant thud. An Executive Director. One of the people who ran the entire show. From the Resource Management Division. Lin Ke's internal danger sense started screaming.
Silas looked at him, a hint of genuine admiration in his eyes. "Your recent performance has been… unprecedented, Mr. Lin Ke. Your efficiency has created quite a stir on the upper floors of this building. My employer, Director Thorne, has taken a personal interest."
The words "personal interest" were a threat wrapped in a compliment.
"He would like to have a word with you at your earliest convenience."
It wasn't a request. It was a summons. Lin Ke stood there, exhausted from a week of non-stop battle, suddenly realizing that his quiet, efficient grind had finally made a big enough noise to attract the attention of the real monsters of the city. He had tried to be a ghost, but he had become a beacon, and now the biggest ships in the harbor were turning in his direction.