Chapter 4: A New Name, A First Hunt
It was ten o'clock in the morning, and a young man with torn clothes and a wide smile walked the sunlit streets of Sector 3. Despite the obvious state of poverty in his appearance, there was something regal in his stride. His silver hair caught the light like threads of starlight, and his red eyes gleamed with energy that didn't belong to a common man. If not for the rags hanging off his lean but sculpted frame, people might have mistaken him for a noble. Even now, a few passersby gave him sideways glances, half out of curiosity, half from unease.
"Heh, still drawing attention," Armaros muttered with a grin. "Guess a bath and clothes will have to wait a little longer."
He made his way through the city with purpose. His destination? A large dome-shaped building with a fading but still-legible sign: NATIONAL IDENTIFICATION BUREAU - BRANCH FOUR.
This was the place where identities were created, altered, or made official. Regular citizens came for basic ID cards. Students, adventurers, and talented individuals came for certification and records. For Armaros, it was the first official step into his new life.
---
The building wasn't crowded, but it was busy. About a hundred or so people milled around, waiting for one bureaucratic process or another. Armaros joined the line for talent registration and waited patiently, ignoring the occasional sniff or glance at his appearance.
Thirty minutes later, his turn came. A middle-aged clerk with a tired face barely looked up.
"Name?"
"Armaros."
The clerk paused, looked up at him. "First or last?"
"Just Armaros."
The clerk didn't push. "Father's name, mother's name?"
"Aelius and Mira," he said casually, completely fabricating. "Both deceased."
"Talent?"
Armaros hesitated for a second. Then, "Battle Fervour."
The clerk typed away, took a quick photo of him, and printed out a gleaming blue ID with a silver edge. It read:
Name: Armaros
Race: Human (Unconfirmed)
Registered Talent: Battle Fervour (Rank: SS)
Status: Active
"Done."
"Thanks."
He stepped out into the morning air again, flipping the ID once in his hand before tucking it into his rags.
"First thing complete. Now, onto the next."
---
The sun was dipping slightly toward noon by the time Armaros reached the outskirts. Past the city gates, he crossed farmlands and forest trails before finally stepping into the fetid murk of Swamp Hollow. The air changed the moment he entered—thicker, humid, and buzzing with the sound of insects.
"Ugh," he muttered, stepping over a mud puddle that tried to swallow his boot. "And here I thought the worst part would be the monster."
> [System Active]
[Environmental Status: 70% Humidity. Mana density above average. Wild mana fluctuations detected.]
"Appreciate the info," Armaros replied dryly.
> [Suggestion: Proceed with caution. Area known for ambush-type monsters. Spiked Armoured Alligator is a confirmed species in this region.]
"That's exactly what I came for."
The Spiked Armoured Alligator—a tank of a beast, twice the size of a normal alligator, with jagged dorsal scales hard enough to deflect bullets and teeth that could bite through iron. In water, it was a ghost. On land, it was a battering ram. But Armaros wasn't interested in its meat or hide.
He wanted its strength. Or more specifically, the kind of strength that mirrored the monster he was planning to fight soon.
> [Reminder: The targeted monster possesses no invulnerability trait. However, combat difficulty remains high. Mana-based ranged attacks expected. Threat level: Moderate.]
"I get it, I get it," he muttered. "You're like a paranoid mom but with better data."
---
For nearly two hours, he scouted. The swamp was filled with nuisance monsters—oversized lizards, low-tier snakes, even a few goblin scouts who scurried off at the sight of him. He killed four of them but didn't absorb any. Not worth the cost.
He hung the corpses on the upper branches of a tree—a practice he'd seen veteran hunters do to mark territory or save meat from rot. Then, finally, he saw them.
Three Spiked Armoured Alligators lay basking on a flat, muddy rise in the middle of the swamp. Their eyes were closed, their massive bodies glistening.
"There you are," Armaros whispered, squatting behind a half-fallen tree. "Now, which of you idiots gets to die first?"
He formulated a plan. Simple, dirty, effective.
---
He tied one of the lizards with a vine, dangled it from a stick, and slowly began dragging it across the mud toward the largest of the three beasts. The closest alligator twitched, lifted its head, and sniffed. It began to follow.
"Heh, not the smartest, are you?"
Bit by bit, he led it away from the others, farther into the thick brush. By the time the beast realized there was no prey, it was too far from the others to call for help.
It roared and launched a torrent of water at Armaros, who dodged to the left.
> [Enemy skill: Water Cannon detected. Mana drain: 6 per blast. Estimated total output remaining: 15 shots.]
"Thanks for the math lesson, System."
The next several minutes were a blur of dodging and near-misses. Trees were toppled. The ground became a crater-ridden mess. But eventually, the alligator began to slow.
Its body heaved. No more water came.
It stood up on its hind legs, balancing with its tail.
"Showtime."
Armaros dashed in low, letting it swing its claws above his head. He slammed into its side, wrapped his arms around it, and dug in.
The beast roared, claws raking his back, but he gritted through it. With a snarl, he bit into its chest.
"Yeah, not exactly gourmet," he muttered, spitting blood.
The gator tried to shake him off, but he slammed his fists into its wound, shoved his hand through its ribcage, and crushed its heart.
The monster gave a final roar and fell.
---
He stood over the corpse, panting.
"That was way too close."
He crouched down and placed his hand on its skull.
> [Gluttony: Active]
A black mist rose from his palm and began to devour the corpse. Within seconds, it had disappeared.
> [Host has absorbed Spiked Armoured Alligator]
[All stats increased by +5]
[New Active Skill Gained: Water Cannon]
"Water Cannon, huh? Not bad. Though I was hoping for the spiked armor."
> [Skill compatibility: 61%. Passive traits unavailable. Suggest further evolutions for access.]
Armaros sat down on a rock, brushing off mud.
"Guess that confirms it. I can fight mid-tier beasts without my dragon form. Means I'm getting stronger."
> [Affirmative. Estimated combat efficiency has improved by 18.2% since last encounter.]
"Sweet."
He stood, eyes scanning the swamp horizon.
> [Next target?]
"We keep moving. The next one has the trait I want. The bastard that made me bleed last time. Let's test just how much I've improved."
He turned and walked deeper into the swamp, hands tucked behind his head casually despite the dangers. The system pinged quietly in his mind.
> [Tracking next viable monster…]