He completed five missions in two weeks.
Five Rifts.
Seventeen monsters.
No witnesses.
No reports.
No trace of Universe Energy.
The Night Sweepers were efficient. Locations arrived through encrypted messages. Each mission came with a threat estimate and a cleanup window.
Low-tier outbreaks.
Abandoned zones.
Poor districts where official Hunters rarely bothered to respond.
Perfect hunting grounds.
He moved like a shadow.
Silent entries. Quick kills. Immediate exits.
The Sweepers paid on time.
Food stopped being a problem.
Rent stopped being a problem.
But sleep…
Sleep never came easily.
Every monster he killed reminded him of that alley.
Of his uncle.
After his fifth mission, Raven finally spoke more than a few sentences to him.
"You're improving."
He wiped Rift residue from his jacket.
"I'm just doing the job."
She studied him with sharp eyes.
"No. Your movement is cleaner. Your reaction time has increased by twenty percent."
She paused.
"And your kills leave less residue."
He stiffened slightly.
"That's bad?"
"It's strange."
She folded her arms.
"Normal awakened Hunters leave Universe Energy traces. Even Sweepers do."
"But you?"
She shook her head.
"You erase things."
His jaw tightened.
He didn't respond.
Raven didn't push further.
Instead, she handed him a small data chip.
"New assignment."
He glanced at it.
Medium-low Rift.
Residential outskirts.
Estimated monsters: unknown.
He frowned.
"That's higher risk than usual."
Raven nodded.
"Which is why we're sending you."
He met her gaze.
"You're testing me."
Her lips curved faintly.
"Of course."
That night, he stood on a rooftop overlooking the target zone.
Apartment blocks.
Playgrounds.
Closed shops.
People lived here.
He exhaled slowly.
No mistakes.
He dropped down into an alley and moved toward the Rift signature.
The tear in reality pulsed weakly between two buildings.
Four monsters emerged.
Different types this time.
One bulky.
Two fast.
One that stayed back, pulsing strange vibrations.
He didn't rush.
He observed.
Then moved.
The fast ones came first.
He dodged, grabbed one mid-lunge, and drove it into a wall hard enough to shatter concrete.
The second tried to flank.
He twisted, sweeping its legs, finishing it with a downward strike.
The bulky one charged.
He braced.
Pain shot through his arms as he redirected its momentum and slammed it face-first into the pavement.
Only the rear creature remained.
It shrieked.
The sound pierced his skull.
He staggered.
His vision blurred.
His knees nearly buckled.
So this one uses mental attacks…
He clenched his teeth and reached inward.
Deep.
Past fear.
Past pain.
Into the quiet darkness inside his chest.
The world sharpened.
The shrieking faded.
He stepped forward.
One precise strike.
The creature dissolved.
Silence returned.
He stood still for several seconds, breathing heavily.
His heart was steady.
Too steady.
Something inside him stirred.
Not hunger.
Not excitement.
Recognition.
He felt it clearly this time.
When the monsters died, something flowed into him.
Not energy.
Not warmth.
Information.
Essence.
Fragments of instinct.
He staggered back, gripping a wall.
"So that's it…"
He wasn't just killing them.
He was absorbing them.
No residue.
Nothing for scanners to detect.
That's why he couldn't be measured.
That's why his power didn't behave like Universe Energy.
He swallowed hard.
What am I becoming…?
Later, back at the Sweeper base, Raven reviewed the footage.
Her expression darkened.
"You cleared it solo."
He nodded.
The room went quiet.
Other Sweepers avoided looking at him.
Raven leaned back.
"You're not just useful."
She spoke carefully.
"You're dangerous."
He met her gaze without blinking.
"Then don't send me out."
A long pause.
She smiled.
"Oh, we will."
"Because monsters are appearing more often."
"And the academy will start intake again soon."
His eyes narrowed.
She continued.
"You're going back next year, aren't you?"
He didn't answer.
She already knew.
Raven stood.
"Good."
"Learn their system."
"Hide among their ranks."
"And keep killing for us."
He turned to leave.
At the doorway, she added quietly:
"Just remember."
"If the world finds out what you really are…"
"They won't call you a Hunter."
He stopped.
"…What will they call me?"
Raven's voice was cold.
"A threat."
That night, alone in his apartment, he stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror.
Sixteen years old.
No rank.
No official power.
No family.
But no longer powerless.
"I'll go back to the academy," he whispered.
"I'll pretend to be weak."
"I'll follow their rules."
His eyes hardened.
"And when Rift Monsters appear…"
"I'll be there."