Aetherborne Infinte Glitch

Chapter 2: The Mask Of The Mediocre

The downtown district was a sprawling labyrinth of steel and Axel, built to house the millions of refugees who had fled the "Unsafe Zones." The Awakened Center was its heart—a massive, obsidian-glass spire where the new elite traded in the currency of monster parts.

As Axel walked through the lobby, he saw the tiers of society on full display. Wealthy scions in enchanted silk robes brushed past battle-scarred veterans carrying jagged, glowing swords. He kept his head down, looking every bit the desperate "bottom-feeder" he was supposed to be.

He reached the registration desk. The receptionist, a woman whose boredom seemed practiced, didn't even look up as she handed him the forms. "Name, age, previous occupation, and bank details for Shard deposits. Testing is in Hall B."

A few minutes later, Axel stood in a reinforced chamber. Behind a thick pane of enchanted glass sat three proctors—two men and a woman, all wearing the silver pins of C-rank hunters.

"Step to the mark, Mr. Jetters," the lead proctor said over the intercom. "Show us your primary skill on the kinetic dummies. We are looking for output and Aetheric endurance."

Axel took a breath. This was the dangerous part. He had to look "good," but not "impossible."

He raised his hand and cast [Ignis Spark]. The flame hit the dummy with a satisfying thud. He did it again. And again. On the sixth cast, he began to "struggle." He forced his breath to become ragged. He allowed his hand to shake. On the eighth cast, he let the fireball sputter slightly before it hit the target, then he slumped his shoulders, panting heavily.

"Eight casts," the woman noted, her eyebrows rising slightly. "That’s a very high threshold for a baseline F-rank. Most tap out at five."

"A peak F-rank, then," the other man muttered, scribbling on a tablet. "Likely has a natural affinity for Aether storage. A shame he only has a Spark skill."

They dismissed him with a wave. An hour later, Axel held a shimmering gold card: his Hunter License.

[Axel Jetters] [Class: Hunter - Rank F]

As he walked out, he noticed his status screen had updated.

[Axel Jetters] [Occupation: Hunter]

[Constitution: 10]

[Might: 10]

[Aether: — ]

[Skill: Ignis Spark (Level 8)]

His eyes widened. In just those few practice casts and the test, his skill proficiency had skyrocketed. Normally, it took hunters weeks of dungeon grinding to level up a skill. But the System seemed to measure proficiency by repetition. To the System, his five hundred casts in the Barrens had counted as a lifetime of training.

He knew where he had to go next. "The Silverback Grove." It was an F-rank dungeon located on the outskirts of the city, a place for beginners to learn the ropes in parties of six.

Most people entered in teams: two Protectors to take the hits, two Vanguards for melee, and two Casters for the kill. Axel looked at his gold card, then at the shimmering blue portal of the dungeon monolith in the distance.

"I don't need a team," he whispered. "I'm my own artillery division."

The air inside "The Silverback Grove" smelled of damp earth and rotting vegetation. It was a massive subterranean jungle, illuminated by glowing moss that clung to the jagged cavern walls. As soon as Axel stepped through the portal, he heard the sharp, territorial screeches of the inhabitants.

Two obsidian-furred apes, each a meter tall with unnaturally long, muscled arms, dropped from the canopy. They bared yellowed fangs and lunged.

In a normal party, the Protectors would have stepped forward with shields. Axel simply pointed his fingers like twin pistols.

"[Ignis Spark]."

"[Ignis Spark]."

Two bursts of flame caught the apes mid-air. They fell, screeching, but Axel didn't wait to see if they were dead. He fired two more rounds into their chests, silencing them instantly. He felt a rush of adrenaline—not the fear he had expected, but a cold, calculating clarity.

He walked over to the corpses. One had dropped a small, glowing shard. A [Might Shard]. It was worth a thousand dollars—a month's worth of groceries in his hand. He shoved it into his pack and moved deeper.

Most hunters treated Aether like water in a desert, sipping it only when necessary. Axel treated it like the ocean. He didn't walk through the dungeon; he cleared it. Every time a shadow moved in the trees, he carpeted the area in [Ignis Spark]. He reached the third floor in ten minutes. The fifth in twenty.

By the ninth floor, his backpack was heavy with shards. He hadn't taken a single scratch. He wasn't even out of breath. He was a glitch in the world's design, a Rank F hunter doing the work of a small army.

Then, he reached the Boss Chamber.

The air here was colder, dominated by a circular clearing where a three-meter-tall ape sat on a throne of twisted roots. This was the Silverback King. Its fur wasn't black, but a shimmering, metallic gray, and its eyes burned with a malevolent intelligence.

"ROAR!"

The sound wave was physical, vibrating in Axel’s teeth. The King charged, its massive fists shattering the stone floor with every stride.

Axel didn't retreat. He planted his feet and channeled everything.

"[Ignis Spark]!"

He didn't fire one. He fired ten in a continuous stream. The first few hit the King’s chest, slowing its momentum. The next five hit its shoulders, forcing it to its knees. The final three exploded against its skull. The Great Ape crashed into the dirt, its metallic fur scorched and smoking.

Silence returned to the grove.

In the center of the room, a green exit crystal manifested, but Axel’s eyes were on the Boss’s remains. Beside the body lay three shards and a thick, glowing book.

He picked it up. [Cipher Tome: Lesser Mend].

His heart hammered against his ribs. A healing skill. Even at F-rank, healing tomes were worth fifty thousand dollars or more because they provided something money couldn't always buy: survival.

He sat on a mossy rock, staring at the green crystal. He had just made sixty thousand dollars in less than half an hour. A Rank B hunter might pull that off, but they would be exhausted, their Aether pools drained. Axel felt like he could do it ten more times today.

"I can't let them see this," he realized. If he sold forty shards and a rare tome every day, the Association would investigate him within a week. 

Axel needed to be smart. He needed to buy better skills—C-rank or higher—under a false identity. He needed to become so powerful that by the time they noticed him, it wouldn't matter if they liked it or not.

"It's time to take charge."