SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery-Chapter 185: Momentum

The first thing I felt was the cold.

Then the sound. Faint chirping. A flutter of wings.

And then, sharp, tiny jabs pecking at me.

I cracked open an eye to see a small, speckled bird tilting its head curiously at me. Another hopped closer, pecked at my boot. A third perched on the edge of the desk, staring as if I were part of the landscape.

I blinked.

Everything ached.

My tongue felt like sandpaper. My back was soaked in sweat, and the crusted blood on my coat tugged uncomfortably at my skin with every breath. I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. Pain lanced up my side, old and fresh wounds layered together like pages of an over-read book.

The ranger’s tower was still. Quiet. The sun had dipped low, casting golden slats through the slanted windows. Shadows were long now.

I blinked again.

Evening.

No. No no no—

The train.

I’d promised to meet them—Elliot, Anthony, Anika. If I missed it...

I forced myself upright, the cot creaking beneath me. My body screamed, but something kept me going. A sensation I hadn’t noticed last night. It wasn’t pain, but...

Energy.

Buzzing under my skin, not like adrenaline. It was more controlled. Like caffeine threading through my nerves. Every breath felt sharp, every twitch of my fingers too fast.

And that word—caffeine—sent a spark through my memory.

Mark’s voice, calm and clinical:

"Imagine you wake up every morning, and there’s a stream of coffee running through your body. That’s what having one job is like. You adjust, your system compensates, you function."

I exhaled hard through my nose and pulled up my System.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Skill Advancement Summary Available]

My vision blurred slightly as the text expanded in front of me.

Extreme Combat Encounter Detected.

Due to prolonged, life-threatening engagement and full systemic convergence, all utilized skills during encounter have leveled up.

Hand-to-Hand Combat → Lv. 5

Reflex Calibration → Lv. 4

Instinct → Lv. 8

Precision Strikes → Lv. 3

Hook → Lv. 4

Jab → Lv. 4

Observation → Lv. 9

Thermal Perception → Lv. 7

Deduction → Lv. 8

Muscle Optimization → Lv. 5

Muscle Reinforcement → Lv. 4

Advanced Hazard Assessment → Lv. 8

Physical Recovery Efficiency → Lv. 5

Heavy Lifting → Lv. 9

Advanced Rescue Mastery → Lv. 9

I stared at the notification.

This... wasn’t just level-ups. It was transformation. This was why I felt like I was half-dead and hyper-charged at once. Like my body had gone through something it wasn’t quite done processing yet.

"System evolution through suffering," I muttered to myself.

I slowly stood up. The dizziness returned but not as sharply. The pain was still there, but it felt distant. A layer beneath something sharper.

I moved to the edge of the tower and stepped out onto the balcony, squinting into the horizon.

Trees stretched in all directions.

But the height gave me an advantage.

I focused. Observation. Instinct. Detective (S-Rank). The sun’s angle, the slope of the hills, the river in the distance. I triangulated my general heading from where I remembered crashing through the trees.

A faint glint in the far-off west. Like glass catching light.

A city.

It had to be the right one.

I took one last look at the map on the wall behind me—too faded to help—and then headed down the tower stairs. Each step flared pain, but something inside me burned brighter than the agony.

I had to get there.

And I had to get there now.

The forest blurred past me.

I ran.

At first, it was steady and controlled. My breathing matched the rhythm of my feet. I weaved through underbrush and vaulted over fallen logs, ducking branches and thorns.

One hour passed.

Then another.

I didn’t stop.

The pain grew heavier. The buzz in my bloodstream began to thrum like a second pulse. My side bled slower now, but still bled. My thigh screamed each time it landed.

But the thought of missing that train? Of leaving them behind?

Unacceptable.

2 hours and 10 minutes in.

The light had dimmed to that awful twilight hue. Shadows lengthened, everything started to look like silhouettes and illusions. I couldn’t tell if I was heading the right way anymore.

The trees had grown thicker. The glint I’d seen earlier was gone. Lost behind hills or clouds or miscalculation.

And for the first time—

I felt doubt.

Had I gone the wrong way? Had I used the wrong slope? Misjudged the river’s curve?

I pushed harder, stumbled, caught myself on a tree.

2 hours and 13 minutes.

I cursed. I yelled, rage and fear in my throat like fire.

"Come on, come on..."

I took another step—

—and saw it.

A break in the trees. A ridgeline just ahead.

I sprinted the last stretch.

And there—sprawled beneath the last golden remnants of daylight—

The city.

Small, but unmistakable lights and movement. And in the distance...

The train station.

My legs nearly buckled. Relief threatened to crack me open. But I didn’t stop.

I descended the slope in half-mad strides, catching myself, sliding, grabbing branches to slow my fall.

I ran.

I ran like time itself was chasing me.

--------

Elliot stood near the edge of the platform, his arms crossed, eyes locked on the city and woods like they might spit out a monster.

Or a friend.

"Still nothing?" Anthony asked, voice low.

Elliot shook his head. His hair was windblown, face pale.

"Train’s almost here," Anthony said, checking the station clock. "We should—"

"I’m not leaving him," Elliot snapped. Then caught himself. "Sorry. I just... he said he’d be here."

Anika sat quietly on the bench behind them, knees drawn to her chest. Her blindfold was wrapped around her hand instead of her eyes. Her expression was unreadable.

"I hurt him," she whispered.

Elliot turned.

"No. That wasn’t you. That was whatever those people did to you."

Anika didn’t respond. Her voice was barely audible.

"He didn’t fight back. Even when I... when I screamed and tried to attack him."

Anthony knelt beside her.

"And he still protected you. That’s what matters."

She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. "But what if he doesn’t come back?"

Elliot opened his mouth to answer—

Then he saw him.

Running.

Lurching.

Bloody, bruised, coat torn to hell.

But unmistakably Reynard.

Charging out of the city street like he was racing a war.

"There!" Elliot shouted, already sprinting.

Anika stood so fast she nearly tripped and forgot she was wearing a blindfold.

Anthony’s face broke into a grin. "Now that! Is how a boss does it."

The train hissed as it pulled into the station.

Doors opened with a chime.

And Reynard, panting, staggering, but upright, reached them just as the whistle blew.

He didn’t say a word.

He just stopped in front of them, eyes locked on Elliot’s, then Anika’s, then Anthony’s.

"Sorry," he rasped. "Took... the scenic route."

And collapsed. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

Anthony caught him before he hit the ground.

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