The Weakest Hunter Ascends

The weakest hunter

E-Rank Hunter, Arthur Pendelton.

No matter where he went, that title followed him like a shadow.

Arthur’s overall strength was barely a step above a regular human being's. Aside from being a fraction tougher and healing a little faster, he was as ordinary as they came.

Naturally, that meant he spent most of his time getting patched up. He’d stared death in the face more times than he cared to count.

It wasn’t like Arthur actually enjoyed the Hunter lifestyle.

The job was incredibly dangerous, the other Hunters treated him like a punchline, and to top it all off, the pay was abysmal.

Honestly, if it weren’t for the medical insurance provided to registered Hunters by the Hunter Association, he would have turned in his license a long time ago to find a normal desk job.

But for a guy in his mid-twenties with absolutely no corporate skills, there wasn't another option. He needed the money to pay for his mother’s astronomical hospital bills every month.

You could say his back was entirely against the wall.

So, despite the dread pooling in his stomach, he showed up whenever the Association called him in for a raid.

Hunters working the same territory usually became familiar faces. Whenever a Rift opened up, the Association called in everyone available in the district.

The early arrivals were already sipping hot coffee from the Association’s hospitality van, trading casual greetings.

"Well, look who it is! Bill, over here!"

"Oh, hey, Greg! What are you doing here? I thought you were hanging up the sword for good?"

"I was going to, but… my wife’s got our second kid on the way."

"Haha, congratulations, man! Well, if you want a massive payday all at once, nothing beats a dungeon raid, right?"

Greg laughed heartily, though Bill only managed a sheepish chuckle before glancing toward the horizon.

"By the way, is it just me, or has the Association been calling us less lately? Are the Rifts drying up?"

"Nah, not a chance. The private Guilds are just snapping them up before the ink even dries on the reports. There’s a fortune to be made in mana crystals, so the big corporations are jumping in headfirst."

"Well, if the corporate Guilds passed on this one, that means it should be a walk in the park, right?" Bill asked, a nervous edge to his voice.

If a private Guild didn't think a Rift was profitable enough to clear, it usually meant the danger level was exceptionally low.

Still, nothing in this line of work was a guarantee. Bill wasn't the only one looking around anxiously; tension hung heavy in the winter air.

"Who knows…" Greg muttered, draining his paper cup. He looked past Bill's shoulder, and his face lit up. "Hey, speak of the devil! Arthur! Over here, kid!"

Several other Hunters cheered up visibly when they saw the young man approaching.

"Hey, guys," Arthur said, offering a quiet nod before walking past.

Once Arthur was safely out of earshot, Greg leaned in with a confident smirk.

"Perfect. Arthur’s here. That means we’re definitely coming home safe today."

Bill blinked, thoroughly confused.

"What do you mean? Is Arthur that good?"

"Oh, right, you've been out of the game for a bit. He started right after you took your hiatus. Trust me, every veteran in the city knows who he is."

"Seriously? Then why is he working cheap Association gigs? Why hasn’t a major Guild scouted him?"

Greg chuckled, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You want to know his nickname around the department?"

"Come on, man, don't leave me hanging. What is it?"

"Humanity’s Weakest Weapon."

"…Weakest? You don't mean 'Ultimate'?"

"Nope. 'Ultimate' belongs to that S-Rank titan, Thomas Reed. Arthur is the Weakest. I'm pretty sure he's the lowest-rated Hunter in the entire country."

"You're kidding," Bill said, his brow furrowing.

If the kid was that useless, why was everyone so happy to see him? In a dungeon, you needed people who could actually watch your back. Bill couldn't make sense of the smiles.

Seeing his friend's confusion, Greg nudged Bill's ribs with his elbow.

"Think about it, Bill! The Association only assigns Arthur to low-risk dungeons because he’s so fragile. They can’t afford a PR nightmare if he gets killed on their watch. If he’s cleared to deploy, it means the dungeon is a total joke."

The realization washed over Bill, and his face cleared instantly.

"Oh. Right. Yeah, that makes sense."

His wife had been worried sick about him stepping back into the field, and truth be told, he'd been terrified too. But hearing Greg’s logic felt like a massive weight lifting off his chest.

"Get this," Greg whispered, leaning closer. "Word is he took a hit in an E-Rank dungeon a couple of weeks ago and spent a full week in the ICU."

"An E-Rank dungeon? A Hunter actually got hurt in one of those?"

"I swear! It was supposed to be such an easy run that they didn't even bring a Healer. He barely made it out!"

"A week in the hospital for an E-Rank? Oh, man, that’s classic!" Bill burst out laughing.

"Keep it down, man," Greg hissed, glancing over his shoulder. "He’s right over there."

"Right, right. Sorry."

Bill checked to see if Arthur had noticed, still muffling his chuckles.

Fortunately, Arthur was far enough away that he didn't seem to be paying attention.

Except, they were entirely wrong.

I can hear every single word, you old bastards.

Arthur forced a bitter smile, trying his best to look oblivious. Sometimes, his unusually sharp hearing felt like a curse.

He looked around to kill time, realizing the raid coordinators were running behind. Spotting the Association rep by the van, he walked over.

"Hey, any chance I could grab a coffee?"

The rep looked up, his expression shifting to one of awkward apology.

"Oh, Arthur… I'm so sorry, man. We just poured the last cup."

"……"

A bitter winter wind swept across the parking lot, biting at his face.

Arthur rubbed his nose with his finger. What a miserable day. Of course the coffee would run out the exact second he stepped up to the counter.

"Arthur, why do you keep doing this to yourself?"

"I'm sorry, Julie."

Arthur lowered his eyes, his voice quiet.

The young, bright-eyed woman casting a soft glow of healing magic over his arm gave him an exasperated pout. Julie was one of the few genuinely kind souls in the circuit, but she didn't mince words.

"I don't want an apology. I'm worried about you. If you keep pushing your luck like this, one of these days you aren't going to walk out."

Arthur looked past Julie’s shoulder toward the center of the cavern.

Once you crossed the threshold of a Rift, you entered a pocket dimension known as a dungeon. This particular layout looked to be a standard D-Rank.

A dozen or so Hunters were sweeping through the remaining monsters without even breaking a sweat. It was an easy payday for them.

But for an E-Rank like Arthur, even the stray skirmishes were a nightmare.

Because he was a magnet for injuries, Arthur was a regular patient for the frontline Healers. Julie finished sealing a gash on his forearm and looked at him intently.

"Is there really no other job you can do?"

Arthur shook his head firmly. He wasn't about to air his family's financial dirty laundry.

"I just do this for the adrenaline," he lied, trying to sound casual. "If I quit, I'd probably die of boredom anyway."

Julie’s pout deepened.

"Keep playing around, and the only place you'll be raiding is the afterlife."

Arthur caught himself off guard and let out a genuine laugh.

"Hey! Don't laugh!" Julie scolded, pressing down a bit harder on the magic. "You'll reopen the stitches!"

Arthur chuckled, trying to distract her.

"Where do you get these lines anyway?"

"From Greg, obviously. He's been lecturing the rookies all morning."

"Man, that old guy really needs a hobby…"

By the time their banter died down, his treatment was complete.

Unfortunately, the rest of the vanguard had already finished clearing the floor.

Arthur’s smile faded as he looked down at his hands.

Only one kill today.

An E-Rank goblin, the lowest of the low.

He rolled the tiny, dull mana crystal between his fingers.

A bottom-tier stone like this would barely fetch eighty bucks at the exchange. For a guy risking his life, it was a pathetic joke.

If I could just get my hands on a C-Rank crystal, that’s a ten-thousand-dollar payday right there…

But a C-Rank monster would tear an E-Rank like him to pieces before he could even draw a weapon.

Suddenly, a voice echoed from the far side of the cavern.

"Hey! Look over here! There’s a hidden tunnel!"

The surrounding Hunters immediately rushed over to investigate.

"Whoa, no kidding."

"There's a secondary path?"

Hidden behind a collapsed rock wall was a perfectly carved archway leading deeper into the earth.

"A double dungeon…"

Mr. Sterling, a veteran with over a decade of raiding experience, stared into the abyss with wide eyes.

"I've heard rumors, but I've never actually seen one in the wild."

The passage ahead was pitch black, swallowing the light from their tactical gear.

Sterling, whose magic specialty was pyromancy, conjured a brilliant ball of fire and hurled it down the tunnel.

The flames illuminated a long, smooth stone hallway that seemed to stretch on forever.

Eventually, the fireball lost its momentum, dropped to the stone floor, sputtered, and died.

Darkness reclaimed the tunnel.

"Alright, everyone gather around," Sterling called out, stepping back into the main cavern. "We need to take a vote."

As the unofficial leader of the raid, everyone listened.

Arthur and Julie walked over to join the circle.

Sterling ran a critical eye over the seventeen gathered Hunters.

"As you all know, a Rift won't collapse until the dungeon boss is dead. Since the portal is still wide open even though we cleared this chamber, the boss has to be waiting down that tunnel."

He pointed toward the dark archway.

The Hunters exchanged tense glances but nodded.

The logic was sound.

"Now, standard protocol says we report this to the Association and wait for a heavy-hitting backup squad," Sterling continued, his voice dropping slightly. "But if we do that, the Association will hand the boss bounty to a higher-ranked team. Our cut for today’s run drops to practically nothing."

The atmosphere in the room shifted.

Faces hardened.

Bill looked more stressed than anyone. He needed a massive payout to cover the upcoming hospital and nursery bills.

If they walked away now, this entire trip was a waste of a dangerous gamble.

"I’d prefer to finish the job ourselves and split the bonus," Sterling said, voicing what half the room was thinking. "What do you all say?"

The Hunters fell into a heavy silence.

No one could guarantee what was waiting in the dark.

But considering the frontline monsters had been complete pushovers, the boss couldn't be that much stronger.

"Alright," Sterling said, coughing to clear the tension. "There are seventeen of us. We'll decide by a show of hands. Majority rules, and no complaining about the outcome. Sound fair?"

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.

"I vote to move forward," Sterling said, raising his hand high.

Slowly, others joined him.

"Count me in."

"Yeah, let's finish it."

Bill was the first to raise his hand, followed quickly by Greg and a few other veterans looking for a payday.

But the opposition was just as vocal.

"We should turn back."

"It's not worth the risk without a proper scout."

The tally climbed, splitting the room entirely down the middle.

Soon, the final decision came down to the last two people who hadn't voted: Arthur and Julie.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sterling," Julie said softly, bowing her head. "I think we should call it a day."

She raised her hand for the retreat.

The score was locked at eight to eight.

A perfect tie.

Sterling turned his gaze to the young man standing quietly at the edge of the group.

"What about you, Arthur? What’s your call?"