Versatile System

Trevor paused briefly as he opened the book once more, flipping to the exact page where he had previously stopped.

For a moment, his fingers rested against the edge of the paper, his gaze steady.

He didn’t have the luxury of time.

If everything written in this book was true, then the upcoming Hunter Recruit wouldn’t just be an opportunity—it would be a battlefield disguised as a selection process.

And stepping into it unprepared would be nothing short of suicide.

A full week.

That was all he had.

Without hesitation, he adjusted his posture slightly and began reading again, allowing himself to sink completely into the contents of the book.

Unlike the ancient magic text he had struggled through earlier, which had taken hours of careful study and repeated reading, the dungeon manual was far more direct.

Clear.

Structured.

Efficient.

And yet... far more dangerous in the knowledge it contained.

Time slipped by almost unnoticed.

By the time Trevor finally reached the last page, only about an hour and a half had passed.

He slowly leaned back, exhaling under his breath, his eyes unfocused as his mind tried to piece together everything he had just absorbed.

Back at school, dungeons had only ever been mentioned briefly, reduced to simple classifications and general warnings.

Nothing detailed.

Nothing real.

But now...

Now he understood.

Dungeons weren’t just ranked.

They were defined.

Shaped by purpose.

And that purpose determined everything.

Trevor’s gaze drifted back to the open page in his hands.

Dungeons ranged from F-rank to SSS-rank, that much was common knowledge.

But rank alone didn’t tell the full story.

The type of dungeon mattered just as much, if not more.

The most common of them all were known as Rift Dungeons.

Simple.

Brutal.

Unforgiving.

They were exactly what most people imagined when they heard the word "dungeon."

You entered.

You fought.

You survived... or you didn’t.

Layer after layer of hostile creatures stood between you and the core of the dungeon. And at the very end, there was always something waiting.

There were no tricks.

No hidden conditions.

Just raw, overwhelming combat.

That was where most dungeon explorers built their reputations.

Or lost their lives.

Trevor’s expression remained calm, but his eyes sharpened slightly as he continued recounting his knowledge.

Then came the Trial Dungeons.

And those... were entirely different.

Instead of throwing you into endless combat, Trial Dungeons placed you into a scenario.

A constructed reality.

A mission.

Sometimes it was a battlefield where you had to survive a war.

Sometimes it was a collapsing environment where survival itself was the objective.

Other times... it was something far more specific.

Precise.

Unpredictable.

Complete the objective—and you lived.

Fail...

And depending on the rank of the dungeon, failure could mean anything from forced ejection...

To death.

Trevor exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a brief second before continuing.

Then came the ones that truly stood apart.

Realm Dungeons.

Entire worlds contained within confined space.

Kingdoms.

Cities.

Civilizations.

People who lived, spoke, and acted as though they were completely real.

Because, in a sense...

They were.

Inside those dungeons, it was dangerously easy to forget the truth.

To forget that everything around you was constructed.

Even the inhabitants themselves often didn’t realize they existed within a dungeon.

They lived their lives.

Formed relationships.

Built histories.

And yet, beneath all of that...

There was always a purpose.

A hidden objective.

Something you were meant to uncover... or destroy.

Trevor’s grip on the book tightened slightly.

Strength alone wouldn’t carry someone through a place like that.

Not even close.

Next...

Abyss Dungeons.

Just recounting the description alone made something cold settle in his chest.

These weren’t structured.

They weren’t stable.

They were broken.

Spaces where the very laws governing reality had fractured.

The environment could shift without warning.

Creatures could mutate mid-battle.

Even essence itself—the fundamental energy hunters relied on—could behave unpredictably.

Nothing followed logic.

Nothing could be trusted.

Not the ground beneath your feet.

Not the enemy in front of you.

Not even your own senses.

Trevor felt a faint chill crawl up his spine.

These were the kind of places where even the strongest hunters disappeared without a trace.

And then...

The final category.

Void Dungeons.

The rarest of them all.

Trevor’s eyes lingered on the words slightly longer this time.

These were dungeons that had already been conquered.

Cleared.

Stabilized.

Taken over.

But instead of collapsing or disappearing like normal dungeons...

They remained.

Transformed.

Controlled.

What were once chaotic death zones had become structured environments.

Settlements.

Strongholds.

Entire hidden societies.

People lived inside them.

Guilds.

Sects.

Rogues.

Individuals who sought power without restriction... or simply wished to vanish from the outside world.

Void Dungeons were no longer unpredictable in the same way as the others.

They had order. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Hierarchy.

Control.

But that didn’t make them safe.

If anything...

It made them far more dangerous.

Because now, the greatest threat inside them...

Was no longer the dungeon itself.

Trevor slowly closed the book, letting out a quiet breath.

"So... this is what I’m walking into."

His voice was low, almost absent-minded.

But there was no fear in it.

Only realization.

Carefully, he placed the book back into his bag.

It had already stayed with him longer than it should have.

Returning it to the library quietly seemed like the logical next step.

But even that carried risk.

If he was caught...

It wouldn’t just be a simple punishment.

Not when a book related to dark magic was involved.

The situation could escalate very quickly.

Trevor frowned slightly, but ultimately pushed the thought aside.

He had done enough for today.

His mind was already overloaded.

Without overthinking it further, he lay down, pulling the blanket over himself.

The moment his head touched the pillow, exhaustion began to take over.

But even as sleep claimed him...

His thoughts continued to replay everything he had learned.

Dungeons.

Ranks.

Death.

Power.

---

Morning came quietly.

Sunlight filtered into the room, soft but persistent, casting a warm glow across the walls.

Trevor stood in front of the mirror, his gaze fixed on his own reflection.

For a brief moment, he said nothing.

A few days ago, if someone had told him that the person staring back at him now was himself...

He would have laughed without hesitation.

But now...

There was no denying it.

He still looked like himself.

But everything felt refined.

Sharper.

More defined.

A more perfected version of who he used to be.

His system interface had displayed something strange the night before—Level One, with a "Max" indicator beside it.

He didn’t fully understand what it meant.

But he couldn’t deny the results.

After finishing his bath, he got dressed quickly, pulling on the clothes he had purchased earlier.

The moment he was done, he instinctively turned back to the mirror.

Two thousand dollars.

That wasn’t a small amount.

And he intended to make sure every bit of it showed.

A thick Gucci hoodie rested comfortably on his frame.

Paired with clean designer joggers and a fresh pair of Air Forces, the overall look was sharp, effortless, and expensive without trying too hard.

Trevor nodded slightly to himself.

Satisfied.

He wasn’t going to repeat the mistake from his outing with Chloe.

Not again.

After applying a light touch of perfume, he stepped out of his room and made his way toward the kitchen.

His plan was simple.

Prepare breakfast for his mother before heading out.

Given how things had been, he expected her to still be asleep.

Earlier that morning, when he had briefly come downstairs, she hadn’t moved at all.

Moving efficiently, he poured hot water into a bowl and opened a sachet of oatmeal, preparing it with practiced ease.

Once he was done, he carried it toward her room.

He knocked twice.

Then stepped in.

And stopped.

His mother was already awake.

Sitting upright at the edge of the bed.

Waiting.

Trevor blinked, slightly caught off guard.

"Mom... how was your night? You’re okay, right?" he asked, his tone calm but cautious.

Her expression didn’t change.

"I need to talk to you," Mia said quietly.

Then after a brief pause—

"I got a complaint."