[Enhancing abilities…]
[F-Rank 'Vicious Swipe' has evolved into: A-Rank 'Vicious Edge']
---
Grimm stared at the glowing screen, the corner of his mouth curving upward.
"Now that's what I'm talking about."
He tapped the notification, and the system obliged — a new window unfolded before his eyes like a blooming scroll of blue light.
---
[Vicious Edge]
Skill Rank: A
Abilities:
(D) Mana Claw: Concentrate mana into your hand, forming razor-sharp claws as hard as metal. Greatly increases melee damage and cutting power. Consumes mana continuously until canceled.
(B) Rend Strike: Each successful hit has a chance to inject Destructive Essence into the target's body. This essence gnaws from within, dealing continuous damage equal to a fraction of the original strike.
(A) Corrosive Frenzy: Each new instance of Destructive Essence stacks with previous ones, amplifying internal damage over time. The effect persists until cleansed or forcibly purged. Continuous exposure may cause internal rupture or energy collapse in weaker foes.
---
Grimm's grin widened. "Beautiful."
This was exactly what he needed.
Over the past few days, he'd been on a nonstop hunting spree. Sure, his efficiency had skyrocketed — but he knew deep down it wasn't because of dazzling combat prowess. It was thanks to his Devour talent feeding him strength like an all-you-can-eat buffet, bulking up his stats.
But he also knew that against higher-level monsters or coordinated foes, that efficiency would crumble without proper technique.
He needed skill. Real, battle-ready power.
And this? This was perfect.
His gaze drifted to the half-shattered sword lying beside him — the blade chipped and dull, the once-silver metal now bruised with cracks from overuse. Five days of nonstop combat had brought it to the brink of collapse.
But now?
He flexed his hand, mana flickering faintly around his palm like liquid light forming a claw.
He wasn't in dire need of a weapon anymore. This could serve him just as well — maybe even better — for hunting. And it would come in handy tomorrow when he moved toward the Goblin Settlement to farm.
Now that he'd finally reached the required level, it was time.
He opened his status panel.
---
[Grimm]
Rank: Wood
Level: 10 [2%]
Profession: Warbreaker
Talent: S-Rank — Devour
Innate Talent: EX-Rank — Infinite Boost
Vitality: 98%
Mana: 100%
Stats
Physical:
↳ [Strength: 41 | Endurance: 37 | Agility: 50]
Mental:
↳ [Intelligence: 28 | Focus: 17 | Perception: 30]
⟣ Stat Points Available: 46
Authority:
↳ [#?;#(?]: Accumulating…
---
Grimm sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
Four long days of nonstop hunting, sleep-deprived strategizing, and cursed EXP taxes that felt like government audits — all for this.
All for the damn Authority bar that hadn't moved an inch since it first appeared.
He frowned. "I've been sacrificing a mountain of EXP to feed you. The least you could do is grow."
The panel stayed motionless, which somehow felt offensive.
Grimm sighed again — deeper this time — and dismissed the interface.
"Forget it. Existential dread can wait till later."
He turned toward the dimming horizon. The sun was already melting behind the misty trees, painting the forest in a copper hue. Finding a sturdy tree, he climbed up and settled onto a wide branch.
Thanks to his Absolute Body, he never felt tired — at least, not physically. Still, his mind craved a moment to breathe.
He leaned back against the trunk and closed his eyes.
There was still time, so he decided to organize his thoughts before heading into the special zone tomorrow.
He was mostly prepared. His stats were more than double what a normal Level 10 Awakener would have. His reaction speed was absurd, and his regeneration made him practically immortal compared to others on this floor.
But a few problems lingered — his gear was trashed, his weapon barely held together, and that, more than anything, was a problem.
"Alright," he muttered, "time to check the Exchange."
"Activate Exchange Network," he whispered, and the system responded.
---
[Activating: Tower Link Network…]
[Synchronizing Consciousness…]
[Entering Shared Exchange Space…]
---
The world blurred.
When it cleared, Grimm found himself standing in a vast, dark expanse — a space suspended in the void, faint starlight flickering beneath his feet. In front of him hovered a massive crystalline terminal, glowing with soft blue runes.
The Tower Link Network — or "The Hub," as most called it.
A place where consciousness, not bodies, gathered.
It connected every Awakener on the floor — a virtual marketplace and communication center built by the Tower itself.
Since communication devices from the outside world didn't work inside the Tower, this became the go-to network for trade and communication — a safe space to exchange resources without ever meeting in person.
There were two ways to trade:
The first was Tower Points — an internal currency created by the Tower itself. You could sell your resources for Points, then use those Points to buy from others. Convenient, but limited. Points held no value outside the Tower, so most players treated them like Monopoly money.
The second, and far more common, was barter trading.
Direct exchange. One item for another.
Efficient, simple, brutally honest.
You had something someone needed? You were rich.
You didn't? You were ignored.
Another perk — anonymity.
Since no one could trace your identity unless you revealed it, business thrived.
Basically, it was a paradise for awakeners who knew how to deal.
---
Grimm's interface materialized before him, displaying his current listings. His inventory floated as glowing icons — beast materials, fangs, bones, essences — all neatly categorized.
He frowned. "Still no trade requests."
It had been five days since the first descent. Most new Awakeners were still too busy learning how not to die to bother trading. The few veterans on the floor already had what they needed. His listings — full of raw beast components — weren't exactly enticing.
He sighed, staring at the 0 pending requests notification like it had personally offended him.
"Well… this is depressing."
His gaze slid to the requests tab — weapon parts, reinforcement materials, and maybe, if luck favored him, a skill scroll.
All untouched.
"Figures," he muttered. "Beast fangs and bones are great for blacksmiths and alchemists, but who needs that inside the Tower? It's like selling sand in a desert."
He drummed his fingers against the terminal, thinking. "Guess my only option now is trading down…"
A moment passed — then his eyes lit up.
"…Wait. Why didn't I think of this earlier?"
A slow grin spread across his face.
If I can't sell them for normal gear, I'll just trade for something that scales.
He pulled up a new trade listing, fingers gliding across the holographic interface.
"Let's see… skill scrolls… spatial type…"
He nodded to himself. "Yeah. That's the one."
Skill scrolls were rare, but universally valuable. Even the weakest could change a hunt. And if he could snag a Spatial Storage skill — even an F-Rank one — Infinite Boost would take care of the rest.
He imagined it — a huge storage space to contain all his loot.
No more inventory limits. No more throwing away treasure.
And when he finally left the Tower… the riches would be absurd.
A laugh escaped him. "Now that's efficiency."
He finalized the trade request and leaned back with a satisfied hum.
Let's see how this goes.