The warm glow of the tavern lanterns wrapped the room in a comforting ambiance as Serti pushed open the door, leading Kashi and Miote inside. The scent of freshly cooked food filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation from a few other patrons scattered around the establishment. In the center of the room, Skaardi meticulously arranged plates on a large round table with five chairs, the polished surface gleaming faintly in the firelight.

Serti casually slid into the seat to Bert's right, his movements fluid and confident. Skaardi, having finished laying down the final tray, wiped his hands on a cloth and took his place next to Serti. Miote, ever cheerful, plopped down beside the towering, Nordic-looking man, leaving Kashi to claim the chair between Miote and Bert.

Kashi hesitated for a moment, studying the others before taking his seat. His gaze fell to the plate in front of him—a generous slab of meat coated in a rich, savory gravy with a side of vibrant vegetable salad.

Skaardi broke the silence, his deep voice carrying a surprising gentleness. "Hope it's to your liking," he said before diving into his plate. Though his movements were deliberate and refined, each bite small and precise, there was no mistaking the efficiency with which he devoured his meal.

Serti, on the other hand, lacked any semblance of elegance. While he started with a fork and knife, it was only to carve the meat into oversized chunks he could toss into his mouth with his bare hands. His grunts of satisfaction were audible enough to make Miote chuckle, though the felur himself maintained a picture of civility.

Miote's smile never faltered as he ate in small, measured bites, pausing occasionally to heap praise on Skaardi. "This is incredible! What cut is this? And where do you even get ingredients like these?"

Skaardi, pleased with the compliments, explained between bites, "We hunt our own. Every other day, someone goes out to bring back fresh game. What we can't finish, we share with other dojos in the city. Meat like this doesn't keep long, after all."

Serti let out a hearty chuckle, slapping Skaardi on the back. "With all these Summoned running around, there'll be no shortage of hunters soon. Mark my words, the price of meat is about to hit rock bottom."

Skaardi, unfazed, countered, "Summoned grow fast. Too fast. They'll outgrow this city's prey and move on to stronger beasts. The prices will rise again before long."

Their banter was cut short when Bert, who had been quietly eating alongside Kashi, suddenly looked up. His amber eyes locked onto the daeben, his tone calm but piercing. "What do you think, Kashi? How would you solve such an issue?"

The question caught Kashi off guard. He froze, fork halfway to his mouth, and stared at Bert with a furrowed brow. There was something about the fox-like beastman—his quiet authority, the way Serti and Skaardi seemed to defer to him—that made Kashi's instincts scream that this was more than casual dinner conversation.

His mind raced. A training hall capable of handing out an Epic Skillbook in the first two challenges wasn't ordinary. If Bert was its leader, this wasn't just idle curiosity; it was a test. And in a game operating on max-reality settings, there wouldn't be any convenient pop-up hints to guide him.

Was the right move to give an answer he thought they wanted to hear? Or should he just be himself?

Setting his fork down, Kashi chose the latter. "Before I can solve a problem," he began, his voice steady, "I need to understand it. So, what exactly is the problem you want me to solve?"

A flicker of interest passed through Skaardi's eyes, and Serti's lips curved into a faint smile. Bert, however, remained impassive. He took a sip from his mug before responding, "How much of the city have you seen?"

"Enough," Kashi replied, leaning back in his chair. "I know it's divided into squalor, low-class, mid-class, and high-class districts. Whoever designed it did an excellent job of separating the wheat from the chaff." His tone was dry, bordering on sarcastic.

Bert's expression didn't change. "And do you think you can break down that divide?"

Kashi snorted, shaking his head. "I'm no god. There's always been poverty, and there always will be. Humanity's been like that since the dawn of time. I'm not arrogant enough to think I can change that."

Bert tilted his head slightly, his gaze unyielding. "Perhaps. But can you think of a way to at least ensure that food prices do not rise so high that the poor are left hungry?"

Kashi paused, his fingers drumming against the table. This wasn't just idle chatter—it was a challenge, one that tested not only his knowledge of the game's mechanics but also his understanding of the world it simulated. After a moment, he leaned forward, his voice firm.

"I'd start by stabilizing supply. Summoned may grow too strong for local prey, but that just means new hunters need to be trained—locals who aren't bound to leave. Set up incentives for them. Provide equipment, guidance, and support so they can pick up where the Summoned leave off."

"And if they refuse?" Bert asked, his tone still calm but probing.

"Then find another solution," Kashi shot back, his crimson eyes narrowing. "You don't force people into action, but you don't let the problem fester, either. There's always a way—whether it's farming livestock or importing food from neighboring regions."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Bert leaned forward, his amber eyes fixed on Kashi with the weight of quiet authority. He sighed, resting his chin on one hand. "Naive," he said flatly, his voice carrying the sharpness of a blade. "Your approach sounds admirable, but it's no better than pointing at a nation's leader and saying, 'Do better,' without offering a plan to back it up."

Kashi's lips twitched at the criticism, but he held his tongue, sensing Bert wasn't finished.

"Even Serti and the others," Bert continued, gesturing vaguely at the group, "are too optimistic. Meat prices dropping? Not with the way things stand."

Serti raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And you think differently, Bert?"

"Certainly," Bert replied without hesitation. He turned his sharp gaze back to Kashi. "Tell me, daeben, do you know the difference between how Summoned and Worldborn grow stronger?"

Kashi nodded, but before he could speak, Miote raised a hand like an eager student. "I don't! Enlighten me, please!"

Bert allowed himself a rare smile at Miote's enthusiasm and began. "Summoned gain strength by absorbing the lifeforce of the creatures they kill—what the Oracle calls experience points. As long as they kill enough, they break through their limits, simplified by the Oracle as leveling up.' Their strength is rooted in their class, which determines how many stat points they receive per level. Naturally, the stronger the class, the more experience points it takes to advance. For them, hunting is not just a necessity—it's their most efficient and, frankly, entertaining path to power."

Miote's ears twitched as he tilted his head. "And Worldborn?"

Bert nodded. "Worldborn rely on cultivation techniques, which play the same role as classes for the Summoned. The strength of a Worldborn depends on their cultivation technique and innate talent. However, there's a catch: instead of absorbing lifeforce from kills, Worldborn must eat to gain the energy needed to advance. And not just anything—specific types of beasts are required, depending on the technique."

Miote's face lit up in realization. "So... if Summoned kill all the beasts, there's no lifeforce left for Worldborn to consume?"

"Exactly." Bert's voice darkened. "The first thing the Worldborn researchers did when the Summoned appeared was test this. They sent out quests for rabbit hunting and found that only 10-20% of the lifeforce remained in beasts killed by Summoned."

Miote frowned. "So, Worldborn would have to eat five to ten times as many beasts to meet their needs if they rely on monsters killed by Summoned."

"And that doesn't account for the Summoned's endless appetite for hunting," Skaardi added grimly.

"To put it simply," Kashi murmured, "if nothing changes, the ecosystem around Kerta will collapse."

Bert nodded. "And the Worldborn can't act too aggressively to control the Summoned. They grow so quickly that if they were to escape and hold a grudge, they might return one day and raze this town to the ground."

Kashi, rubbing his temples, muttered, "But... leaving aside the monster problem, the poor didn't just appear in the last few hours. Why couldn't they hunt for food before?"

Serti chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Most of them were incapable oft hunting to begin with. Over 80% of the population doesn't even have a true cultivation technique aside from the most basic techniques to convert monster meat and blood to lifeforce. And those who do? Many hoard them for their families or troops. Some use the Oracle to learn a technique, destroying the original in the process. Without techniques, venturing into the forest is suicide. No hunting means no meat, which means no lifeforce to grow stronger. It's a vicious cycle."

Kashi frowned. "But... can't Worldborn grow stronger without leveling up? I'm doing it."

This time, Skaardi shook his head. "Three reasons why most can't follow your path. First, Summoned grow faster than Worldborn, so it takes the latter much longer to gain stats naturally. Second, everyone goes through a growth spurt at level 0, gaining stats faster. But most rush to level up in this dangerous world, leaving their foundations shaky. Finally, there's the issue of Potential Reinforcement. The stronger someone gets as a level 0, the greater their potential. But this comes at a cost—more experience points are needed to level up. For the poor, who don't know where their next meal is coming from, risking a high potential but being unable to level up is unthinkable."

Bert's gaze turned back to Kashi. "Now, after hearing all that, what would you do?"

Kashi frowned, his mind spinning as he pieced together the puzzle. Slowly, he began to speak, his voice low but growing in confidence. "There are two fundamental problems: first, the monster shortage. Without enough monsters to hunt, Kerta will tear itself apart. Second, a significant portion of Worldborn need to become capable hunters. Only then can they secure enough meat to meet the town's cultivation needs, even with the Summoned acting like locusts."

He leaned forward, his crimson eyes burning with determination. "For the first issue, we need a reliable source of monsters—like a dungeon with a dungeon core, if those exist. A core-generated dungeon would replenish its monsters daily, and with proper management, it could sustain both the Summoned and Worldborn."

Serti whistled softly. "Ambitious. And if dungeon cores don't exist?"

"Then an instance dungeon," Kashi replied, undeterred. "They reset after each visit, but they're less ideal since they often recreate specific story events rather than housing large numbers of beasts."

"And the second issue?" Bert asked.

"We open a cultivation center," Kashi said. "Offer cheap techniques or teach them manually for free or a small fee. With dungeon meat as a lifeforce source, the poor can grow stronger and transition to better techniques down the line. That way, the Summoned and Worldborn can coexist—separate in ideals but synergistic in results."

Kashi exhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair. "That's how I'd fix it... based on what I know."

The table fell silent, the weight of Kashi's words hanging in the air. Then, slowly, Bert smiled—a small, approving curve of his lips. "Interesting," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, arms crossed as he gave his verdict on Kashi's plan. "Naive. Full of hope. But a plan nonetheless," he said with a sigh, his words sharp yet not entirely dismissive. His sharp eyes locked on Kashi, scrutinizing the daeben like a jeweler examining a flawed gem. "Your solutions rely heavily on resources you do not even know exist near Kerta. That said, I shall give you this—you based your 'hopes' on educated guesses grounded in historical patterns. For a long-term goal, it is manageable as there is room to adapt. But for short-term targets? That approach could very well get you killed."

Miote perked up, his ears twitching with curiosity. "So... does that mean he passed the test?"

"Test? This is not some child's game. I do not seek your brownnosing. I wish only to find the mettle of your character." He leaned forward, his gaze now boring into Kashi like a drill. "Let me ask you something instead—would you risk your life to save the world?"

Kashi blinked, surprised by the bluntness of the question. He mulled it over, his expression unreadable as the room seemed to still. Finally, he straightened his back and spoke with calm resolve. "No," he said simply.

The room went silent, except for the faint sound of Miote choking on his breath. Kashi continued, his tone steady. "How can I care about the world? I know nothing about it. To me, 'the world' is just an abstract concept, something far too large to hold meaning. So no, I wouldn't risk my life to save it."

Bert raised an eyebrow, but Kashi wasn't finished. "That said..." He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air before continuing, his voice taking on a sharp edge. "If this world dies, so do I. That's unacceptable. I'll save the world not because I care about it, but because my survival depends on it. And I'm not the kind of person who would gamble my life on some other 'hero' swooping in to save the day. If someone's threatening the world, they're threatening me. And I'll destroy anyone or anything that threatens my life."

An oppressive bloodlust filled the room as he spoke, heavy and suffocating. Serti's lips curved into an intrigued smirk, while Skaardi's eyes glinted with an emotion somewhere between wariness and respect.

But Bert remained unmoved. He shrugged as if Kashi's proclamation was little more than a mildly interesting anecdote. "I see. In that case, your next task is to complete the Archery Training Hall. If you can finish, you might have the foundations to control your destiny."

Before Kashi could respond, Bert abruptly pivoted. "Now, answer me this: do you plan on completing the [Golden Body]?"

The question hit Kashi like a thunderbolt. His crimson eyes widened in shock. "How do you—"

Bert frowned, cutting him off. With a wave of his hand, a large, weathered tome materialized in his grip. The skillbook was ancient, its leather cover inscribed with glowing runes. Bert held it up but made no move to hand it over. "I'll sell you this skillbook for 100 gold Syros," he said, his tone as casual as if he were haggling over fruit at the market. "You have nine weeks to pay me back."

Miote's fur bristled, and he practically yelped, "A hundred gold? That's ten thousand Syros! How do you expect him to make that much in nine weeks?! What's the penalty if he doesn't pay?"

Bert's smirk widened. "The penalty isn't too bad. He will just have to work for us for two months to pay off the debt."

Miote glared, his tail flicking in irritation. "What kind of work?"

Bert ignored the question entirely, his attention fixed solely on Kashi.

Kashi, for his part, didn't respond immediately. He stared at the book, the gears in his mind turning. Finally, he asked, "Is it a growth-type skill or an attack skill?"

"Foundation-building," Bert replied simply.

Without another word, Kashi snatched the book from Bert's hand. "Fine. It's only 100 gold," he said with a defiant grin. "I'll find a way to pay it back. Nothing beats building a solid foundation."

As Kashi inspected the skillbook, a prompt appeared in his vision:

[Skillbook: Mana Reforging Technique]
Rank: E
Description: An all-around body refinement technique that uses mana to enhance the user's muscles, organs, and skeleton. While it lacks the elemental affinity of advanced techniques, it is perfect for beginners seeking to establish a strong foundation.
Warning: Pain is inevitable. Embrace it.

Kashi's grin faltered as he read the warning, but he quickly shook it off.

Before he could open the book, Bert raised a hand. "Do not even think about trying to learn it manually," he warned.

Kashi frowned. "Why not?"

"This is not like the recovery technique you picked up downstairs," Bert explained, his tone firm. "If you make a mistake with body refinement, you will be lucky if you're only left crippled. With your level of mana control, let the Oracle handle it for now. Once you've gone through it a few times, you might be able to do it on your own."

Kashi hesitated but eventually nodded. He tucked the book under his arm, determination blazing in his eyes. "Fine." He then sat cross-legged on the chair, the Oracle's familiar golden light illuminating his face. With a simple mental command, he initiated the process of learning the Mana Reforging Technique, letting the Oracle handle the transfer of knowledge directly into his mind.

It started smoothly—almost too smoothly. Then, like a cruel joke, the pain struck.

"ARGH!" Kashi clutched his chest as a searing agony exploded in his heart. It felt as though a thousand needles were stabbing him from the inside. His body convulsed, and before he could even process what was happening, he collapsed forward, slamming onto the table with a dull thud.

Sweat poured from his body in torrents, soaking his shirt and dripping onto the floor. His limbs felt like lead, his breathing shallow and ragged. For a terrifying moment, he couldn't move.

Through the haze of pain, the Oracle chimed in its usual, far-too-cheerful voice:

"Congratulations! You've fallen into the debuff state: Mana Exhaustion. Your body has completely emptied its mana reserves. Please take this as a gentle reminder to pace yourself next time. 😊"

"Gentle reminder?!" Kashi snarled inwardly, too drained to even glare at the system prompt. But then it hit him—the technique's description.

"It utilizes mana to reforge the body..." he muttered through gritted teeth. He had assumed it would draw mana from the surroundings, but instead, it had completely drained his mana reserves. A rookie mistake. His current mana pool was nowhere near large enough to sustain even two breaths of the technique!

The stark reminder of his weakness made his blood boil. I'll show this stupid system who's weak.

Closing his eyes, Kashi forced himself to steady his breathing. He activated Aether Breath, his cheat-like mana restoration skill. Slowly but surely, warmth began to return to his body as his dried-up mana pool revitalized. His skin regained its color, and after a few moments, he sat up, still panting but no longer incapacitated.

"That," Kashi said hoarsely, glaring at Bert, "would've been useless for a level 0 without some kind of cheat skill like mine. How can you call this a foundational technique when it demands more than a foundation just to use it?"

Bert leaned casually against the wall, utterly unimpressed by Kashi's struggle. He nodded but then corrected him, "It is meant for level 0s—just not for someone with a Tier 1 bloodline like yours. Higher-tier bloodlines start with significantly larger mana pools. But I wouldn't have given this to you if I didn't think you could handle it."

Kashi raised an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

"Because I knew you had a mana restoration skill. That'll suffice for now," Bert said, his tone infuriatingly calm. "But this technique will only show its true value if you adopt the Worldborn method of cultivation and learn a proper blood refinement technique."

Serti leaned forward with a toothy grin. "You see, the Worldborn grow stronger by converting monster blood and meat into lifeforce, which they then absorb. Most blood refinement techniques also convert a portion of that blood into mana, but the mana usually goes to waste since most people can't absorb monster mana for themselves."

Kashi's crimson eyes widened as the pieces began to fall into place. "So," he said slowly, "this Mana Reforging Technique can use the mana refined from monster blood to reforge my body?"

Bert shrugged. "In theory, yes. But you'll have to experiment for yourself to see if it works for a Summoned like you."

"One more thing," Kashi asked, his tone sharp. "If a Summoned extracts the lifeforce from a monster, does the mana in its blood and meat remain intact?"

Bert smirked, as if amused by the question. "Depends. For magic beasts and creatures with mana cores, the mana is stored separately and remains even after the lifeforce is absorbed. But for most other creatures, the mana is stored in their blood and muscles, stabilized by their lifeforce. Remove the lifeforce, and the mana dissipates."

Kashi's gaze darkened, his sharp features taking on a dangerous edge. "So you've laid a perfect trap," he said, his voice low and cold. "If I want to maximize my growth and potential, I'll need a steady supply of monsters killed by Worldborn. Without their lifeforce extractions, I won't have the mana needed for my blood refinement—or my Mana Reforging Technique. You're forcing me to work with them, aren't you?"

Bert chuckled, his grin wolfish. "The best traps," he said, "are the ones your target can see but still can't avoid. Welcome to the game, daeben."

Kashi exhaled heavily, nodding. "Fine. I'll play along—for now. I'll need a Worldborn companion to land the killing blow on monsters in the future. That way, I can ensure I get the resources I need."

Satisfied but unwilling to dwell on Bert's blatant manipulation, Kashi turned to the others. "Where can I get a blood refinement technique?"

Skaardi stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You've got a couple of options. The Adventurer's Guild has plenty of cheap ones. Every hume in this world uses blood refinement techniques, so it's just a matter of finding one that suits you. Or..." His grin turned sharp. "If you're feeling ambitious, the eighth level of the Archery Hall—on Hard difficulty—rewards a decent one. Your call."

Kashi mulled it over and nodded. "I'll check out the Guild in the morning. For now, I need rest."

He tapped Miote on the shoulder and stood, following Serti down a hallway lined with simple wooden doors. The wisben opened one and gestured inside. "The lock's on the inside," Serti said before adding, "And one more thing—Bert doesn't take interest in people lightly. Don't disappoint him."

Kashi met Serti's gaze but said nothing. He stepped inside, closed the door, and locked it.

Sitting on the small bed, he let out a long sigh, running through everything he'd learned that day. The trap he'd willingly walked into, the promises of strength, and the mountain of obstacles ahead—all of it churned in his mind.

Finally, he lay back and shut his eyes. "I'll dance to their tune for now," he muttered. "But only until I can rewrite the score."

With that, Kashi drifted into a restless sleep, the faint hum of the Oracle in his mind reminding him of the grueling path ahead.