In the first couple of days after students began venturing outside the city for monster hunting, school teachers actively patrolled the wild zones, making sure no one got themselves killed out of recklessness.
But once most of the students had adapted to how combat worked, the teachers pulled back, no longer needing to hover over everyone's shoulders. From then on, only a few calm, responsible instructors remained stationed at the North City Gate to handle emergencies or guide returning students.
The rest of the faculty returned to school duties, leaving the students largely to their own devices.
If a student found themselves in trouble—injured, lost, or overwhelmed—they could simply return to the city entrance and request help from one of the instructors there.
But most didn't need to.
Within two weeks, nearly all students had adapted well. They were training hard, fighting harder, and fully focused on leveling up.
During this period, Lucas and Mason had practically become killing machines. Together, they had slain thousands of wild monsters, rising steadily in strength and experience.
However, despite all the blood, sweat, and monster guts... there was one big disappointment.
They didn't get a single equipment drop. Not one.
"Talk about bad luck," Mason muttered.
All they had managed to collect were low-level monster materials—meat scraps, bones, a few hides. The kind of loot that barely fetched any money at the shops in the city.
Even with hundreds of items, their total earnings didn't exceed a few thousand yuan. It was a reminder that, for lower-level job-changers, making money through grinding monsters alone wasn't lucrative.
Unless you ventured into dungeons.
Dungeon gear had higher drop rates. If you were lucky enough to score even a single piece of rare gear, you could sell it for a fortune.
But there was a catch: even the lowest-level dungeon required you to be Level 20, and you needed a full five-person party, preferably with everyone having passed their job advancement trial.
That trial? A solo dungeon. If you failed to clear it, you'd be stuck at Level 20. Forever.
Such players became the butt of jokes—stuck in limbo, unable to advance, and generally ignored by teams seeking efficient runs.
And if you were careless and died inside a dungeon, you'd waste a precious resurrection badge worth 50,000 yuan. The risk was high, and the price of failure brutal.
As evening rolled in, Lucas and Mason returned to the city. After exchanging a few jokes and farewells, they parted ways.
Lucas went to sell the random junk clogging his backpack—better to make room for actual gear, if it ever dropped.
The next morning, the two met at the North City Gate again.
Mason had finally made up his mind. He was sticking to his earlier decision: no more leveling together.
He didn't want to outpace his future classmates at university and risk becoming a loner with no teammates.
Lucas respected that and wished him well. So, for the first time in weeks, they split paths—and Lucas began grinding solo.
---
A few days later, Mason found himself in the jungle beyond the plains, holding his hammer with pride as he squared off against a Level 9 Red-Eyed Wolf.
The beast was fast and fierce, its bloodshot eyes locked onto him with primal fury. But Mason wasn't backing down.
He sidestepped a lunging bite, countering with a wide hammer swing that clipped the wolf's flank. He wasn't trying to end the fight quickly—he was practicing.
After weeks of riding Lucas's coattails, Mason wanted to refine his personal combat skills. He could've ended this wolf in two swings, but instead, he was intentionally dragging the fight out—learning dodges, angles, and timing.
He was fully immersed... until an irritating voice broke the rhythm.
"Hey, hey... is that who I think it is?"
A figure stepped out from the brush.
It was Leon Graves, the arrogant A-Level Talent who had once tried to recruit girls in a chat group—only to get roasted by Mason in front of the entire school.
He clearly hadn't forgotten.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Leon said mockingly, walking up with a smirk. "Fighting a Level 9 wolf all alone? Pathetic."
Mason barely looked at him, focused on dodging another lunge.
Leon continued, enjoying the sound of his own voice. "Where's your 'amazing' best friend Lucas? Don't tell me he finally got tired of dragging your dead weight around?"
He laughed loudly.
"Looks like your friendship wasn't as strong as you thought, huh?"
Clearly, Leon had no clue that Mason had left voluntarily. He assumed Lucas had ditched him.
"You're just a burden, and now you're back here grinding trash mobs while he moves on without you."
Leon folded his arms triumphantly, fully expecting Mason to respond with shame or regret.
Instead, Mason just snorted.
"What are you even barking about?" he replied, eyes still on the wolf.
Leon was thrown off by the casual reply.
Before he could speak again, Mason landed a clean hammer blow. The Red-Eyed Wolf yelped, collapsed, and died.
"None of your business," Mason said as he turned to face Leon, annoyed. "Now get lost."
Leon scoffed. "Watch your mouth. I'm Level 12."
He held up his palm and summoned a glowing status icon to prove it. "You think you can talk to me like that? I could send you back to the city with one hit."
Leon had been bragging about reaching Level 12 all week. In his mind, that made him second only to Lucas and Alexis Lane.
In the school's public chat group, he constantly posted his level, trying to make others feel inferior.
Most other A-Level students were still stuck at Level 11. Even with all the advantages money gave him—custom gear, early teammates—Leon still only barely outpaced them.
He had even ditched his old teammates—two B-Level girls—once they became too slow to keep up. Cold-hearted, but efficient.
His whole strategy had been to use people early on, then drop them once they stopped being useful.
Now, he stood tall, convinced of his superiority.
"You're what, Level 9? 10? Trying to act tough?" Leon scoffed. "You're not worth my time."
In his mind, Mason couldn't possibly be stronger than him. After all, Mason had just been fighting a Level 9 monster. He must be weak, right?
But Mason said nothing.
He just stared at Leon, then cracked a small smile.
It wasn't arrogant. It wasn't mocking. It was pity.
Because if Leon knew the truth—that Mason was already Level 15, that he had trained with Lucas and could solo monsters twice this wolf's strength—he might shut up real fast.
But Mason didn't bother correcting him.
Let him talk.
Let him gloat.
Because Mason knew something that Leon didn't:
The gap was already too wide.
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