The final bell of the exams had barely faded when Daniel found himself staring at a mountain of monster cores and a sizable pool of experience points. Despite the satisfaction of his progress, a shadow of regret lingered in his heart.
If I sold these on the black market, I could've earned a fortune, he thought bitterly. But the Academy will just seize them all as "training material." What a waste…
Beside him, the spider familiar—his sole companion in this strange world—crawled over his shoulder. With a quiet command, Daniel ordered, "Shrink."
In a flash of magical compression, the spider shrank to the size of a common house spider and slipped beneath the folds of Daniel's clothes, disappearing from sight.
Daniel's gaze returned to the glittering pile of cores. An idea sparked in his mind—bold, risky, and precisely the kind he was known for back in his old life. A grin curled on his lips as he stuffed the cores into a tattered sack.
With purpose in his stride, he wandered into the outer yard of the Academy, searching until his eyes landed on a group of first-year students huddled beneath a shade tree, their faces clouded with worry.
"Hello, friends!" Daniel said brightly, approaching with the cheerfulness of a street vendor about to make a sale.
The kids turned to him, momentarily startled. One of them, eyes wide with recognition, exclaimed, "You're Daniel Johnson, right?!"
Daniel flashed a confident smile. "Right on. The one and only."
He glanced at their nervous expressions and added casually, "You all look like you've just seen your final grade slip. What's up?"
One boy sighed. "We didn't get enough monster cores to pass. We're gonna flunk."
Daniel's smile widened. "Well then, today's your lucky day. I've got more cores than I know what to do with." He thumped the bulging sack beside him. "Take a look."
The boys' eyes lit up the moment they saw the stash. Greed shimmered in their gaze like moths drawn to flame.
"Are those… all monster cores?" one of them whispered in disbelief.
"Absolutely," Daniel said, flipping the top open. "And they're for sale—1,000 dollars per core."
"What?!" one of the boys gasped. "The market price is only 100!"
Daniel gave a half-shrug. "This isn't the market. Take it or leave it." He moved to close the sack.
The group exchanged nervous glances. One of them leaned closer to whisper, "We could just take them. If we grab that sack, we'll skyrocket to the top of the rankings."
Daniel remained motionless, observing them with the calm of a wolf watching rabbits make up their minds.
Weapons slid into view. The same boy who had whispered earlier now raised his dagger and sneered. "Just hand over the sack, Daniel. Do that, and we won't hurt you."
Daniel didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile.
---
A few minutes later…
The boys who had tried to mug Daniel now hung upside down, tightly cocooned in shimmering spider webs. The silk wrapped their bodies from feet to neck, leaving only their terrified, sweat-drenched faces exposed. Looming above them, with fiery red eyes and twitching legs, was a spider the size of a small car—Daniel's summoned beast, licking its fangs with anticipation.
Daniel stood calmly in front of them, arms folded, a smirk etched across his face.
"So… not interested in a deal, huh?" he said, voice dripping with mock concern. "Well, your cores are mine now. If you want them back, the new price is 15,000 dollars. Per core."
The desperation in their eyes was almost entertaining.
Moments later, a ping echoed in Daniel's smartwatch. His grin widened as the display lit up.
+10,000,000 dollars credited to your account.
And that was just the beginning—he still had a sackful of cores left.
With his confidence sky-high and pockets lined, Daniel went hunting again—this time for more clients. Some students bought from him willingly. Others, thinking they were clever, tried to rob him like the first group. Daniel responded in kind: robbing them back, doubling their loss, and selling their own cores to the highest bidders.
But then he came across a team—well-organized, smart, and rich. Instead of trying to fight him, they bought every single core he had left. Their goal was clear: secure top ranks at any cost.
Later, as Daniel sat under a tree, sipping water and idly scrolling through his smartwatch, he couldn't help but chuckle. The display showed his total earnings from the "exam hustle" so far:
5,000,000,000 dollars.
"Well," he said with a satisfied smirk, licking his lips, "better than handing them over to the Academy for free. I just made myself a little pocket change."
Far above, in the VIP viewing room, a group of elite instructors, headmasters, and even the Academy Principal were watching everything unfold on the giant crystal screens.
The silence was heavy until one of the instructors muttered, "Did he just… start a business during the exam?"
Another scoffed, "Hero? He doesn't look like one from any angle."
Meanwhile, Lisa—sitting with the staff—struggled to suppress her laughter. She covered her mouth, but her shoulders shook with silent amusement.
Back in the wild, Daniel glanced at the remaining time.
"Still over two hours left," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's go hunting again."
With the help of his spider, he vanished into the trees, slaying monsters with practiced precision, collecting more cores, more wealth, and more power.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun—
FLASH!
A wave of light engulfed the battlefield. The teleportation trigger had been activated. All candidates—wounded, victorious, exhausted—were pulled from the depths of the exam zone and reappeared in the central arena.
---
The moment Daniel reappeared on the academy grounds, the world around him spun violently. His vision blurred, his stomach churned, and before he could utter a single word, he dropped to his knees.
Hurk—!
He vomited without restraint, his breath ragged as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to this damn teleportation," he groaned, his voice barely a whisper, strained and hoarse like he had just returned from the dead.
Around him, the other candidates were slowly regaining their balance. Some collapsed onto the grass, others stumbled away toward the dormitories without even acknowledging one another. The exhaustion was palpable.
But unlike the rest, Daniel wasn't drained. He hadn't broken a sweat—not even during the fight. While the others went to recover from the brutal exam, Daniel adjusted the collar of his coat and turned the other way.
"Rest is for the weak," he muttered with a sly grin, walking straight toward the academy's training center.
With the theory exams scheduled for next week, the training center had become a ghost town. Every student was buried in textbooks, cramming spells, tactics, and monster physiology like their lives depended on it.
For Daniel, this was the perfect opportunity.
He stood alone in the high-tech chamber, surrounded by holographic dummies, combat bots, and mana simulators. Sweat glistened on his brow as he pushed his limits again and again. Unlike others who used their level-ups reactively, Daniel had discovered a loophole. He trained until his strength and mana dropped below 10%, and only then did he trigger a level-up—fully restoring his stats and granting him exponential growth.
It was brutal. It was risky.
But it worked.
By the end of the third consecutive day, Daniel had reached Level 20.
His strength had doubled. His mana reserves felt infinite. His eyes had evolved—sharper, more aware. His memory retention had improved drastically, and his control over his abilities had grown terrifyingly precise.
And yet… he felt no fatigue. No burn in his muscles. No weariness in his bones.
Instead, he stood tall, fists clenched, eyes gleaming.
A predator evolving in silence, while the sheep studied their books.