Grone pushed open the restaurant door, stepping out into the bustling street. Tyler followed close behind, his eyes darting around, taking in the other hunters. His system, ever vigilant, displayed their levels as text boxes above their heads. He did a double-take at one familiar hunter—a level 62. It was Gary. Gary was a "level 62"? The surprise was fleeting, however, as Grone abruptly changed direction, gesturing towards a building constructed of brown bricks. The building was a two-floor structure, unremarkable except for the inscription above the door. Tyler stared at it, surprised. The words "Rank Assessment Building" were clearly visible, yet they weren't written in any language he recognized. They were more like stylized scribbles, a completely alien script. And yet, he understood them perfectly. He muttered to himself, "Is this... the Rank Assessment Building?" Grone, beside him, nodded. "Yes," he said, "We should go in."The door creaked open under Grone's hand, revealing the

Tyler pointed towards the distant houses. "Is that the place we're supposed to go?"Grone looked, then leaned back against the bench. "No. That's Lyria. It's one of the villages near the Crossroads base. It just means we're close. Don't worry, we're be going straight to town, Just rest up. We're getting close." Grone closed his eyes again. Tyler looked down, lost in thought.His clothes were dirty, and he thought about his crafting skills. He had crafted armor once—chest armor, to be precise—though the system classified it as regular clothing. That was when he first arrived in this world. Given his ability to craft weapons and armor, why wouldn't he make shoes? He wasn't sure. He looked up and quietly muttered, "Status."SPECIES: HumanNAME: Tyler EvansRANK: G LVL: 4CLASS: CraftsmanHP: 37/37 MP: 33/33STR: 22 AGI: 15 DEF: 39STATUS: HealthySkills: Armour Craft, Weapon CraftHe hadn't checked his status in a while. Seeing it now, he considered becoming a hunter like Grone. Then he