The moon was hidden behind thick clouds tonight, and Thalen was grateful for that. Darkness made it easier to hide.
He sat beneath the crumbling overhang of an old monorail station, hunched over a cracked tablet salvaged from a junk dealer, lines of code and names flickering across the screen. Neon signs from Valis's outer district blinked dimly through the rain. The whole world smelled of rust, wet concrete, and opportunity laced with fear.
He had six months.
Six months to kill an A-rank hunter—or die.
The system hadn't given him a loophole, not a clause, not a hint. Just a deadline and a threat etched into reality like divine law.
Most people would panic. Thalen… had.
Now he was past that.
Now he was planning.
He muttered under his breath, fingers dragging across the tablet's greasy surface as he flipped between dossiers, rumors, kill videos, black-market bounty boards, and anything tagged "A-rank" or "accidental death."
"You don't kill an A-ranker in a fair fight," he said to himself. "You trick them into dying."
The truth was blunt, cold, and tasted like steel.
A-rank hunters were monsters in human skin. If awakened ranks were tectonic plates, E to C were soil. B-rank might be bedrock. But A?
A-rankers were mountains that moved.
Faster than most bullets, stronger than engine blocks, immune to fear, to poison, to reason.
Even more terrifying: they knew it.
Thalen had watched footage—raw and shaky—from raid cams and witness phones. A woman called Silvershard splitting a troll in two with her bare hands. A man named Kane Voidfist walking through a hail of arrows as if they were spring rain. Elementalists burning buildings just to get at a wyvern nesting inside.
And Thalen?
He once paid a man to climb a light pole in exchange for a Ring Pop and a favor.
The gap was… absurd.
But not impossible.
Because he wasn't going to kill this A-ranker with force.
He was going to do it with narrative.
Brainstorm Log: Assassinate A-Rank Hunter
Environmental Kill
Drop a building on them?
Problem: They'd survive. Reinforced bone density. Some even have barrier-type skills.
Alternative: Lure into unstable ruins?
Need bait. B-rank monster or fake relic.
Indirect Quest Loop
What if I assign a "miracle" quest to someone near the A-rank?
Like "Deliver this cursed object."
Problem: My Quest Architect only works on B-rank and below. I can't use it directly on them.
Solution: Create a chain of smaller quests that converge. Use civilians. Disguise intent.
Potential: Death by accumulated variables. Overwhelm the surroundings, not the target.
Emotional Manipulation
A-rankers rarely have emotional weaknesses listed.
But some have families. Some have fans.
Maybe blackmail? Or setup an illusion of betrayal.
Find someone close. Make them a tool.
Poison / Disease
Most immune. Or carry cleanse artifacts.
Need something exotic. Not poison, but a parasitic curse.
Source from black market curse dealers in the Ash Quarter? Dangerous. But might work.
Suicide Kill
Not his suicide. Someone else's.
What if the A-rank kills someone under a divine-seeming quest?
Make them trigger a curse?
Too unpredictable. Morally… slippery. Even for him.
Frame for Execution
Use their name, build a false myth. Create pressure.
Plant evidence. Use B-rank hunters to push it.
Get the Hunter Authority involved.
Problem: Time. Red tape. Six months might not be enough.
Thalen closed his eyes.
Every route came with a catch.
Every plan would require moving people like dominoes—some knowing, some not. That was what made his class so terrifying. Not the raw power. But the ability to script behavior.
Still, the system wasn't giving him help this time.
The previous quests? They'd been his to write. He controlled the rules. Shaped the penalties. Gave just enough reward to make it irresistible.
But this quest—to kill an A-ranker—had come from the system.
Which meant the system was watching him now. Testing him.
No. Shaping him.
He took a slow breath, let the city noise seep in.
Distant sirens. The crackle of a generator. The slosh of tires through puddles.
Somewhere, a cat screamed.
He needed information. Blueprints. Hunter habits. Weaknesses.
Thalen made a decision.
Step one: Choose the target.
There were over fifty active A-rank hunters in the southern provinces. Some worked in guilds. Some were rogue. A few were semi-retired.
He needed someone isolated, arrogant, and predictable.
Someone not too protected. Someone who wouldn't see a mosquito as a threat—until it infected them with something fatal.
He swiped again.
And stopped.
Target: A-Rank Hunter – Veylen Cross
Codename: "Ashdrinker"
Element: Fire / Ash manipulation.
Affiliation: Formerly Iron Dawn Guild. Now solo.
Reported Personality: Ruthless. No allies. Frequent alcohol use. Multiple complaints filed (none stuck).
Last seen: Outer edge of Rift Zone 93.
"Hello, Veylen," Thalen whispered.
A drunk fire user with a temper and a tendency to work alone?
Perfect.
He copied the file, encrypted it, and added a new line at the top.
Operation: Burn the Ashdrinker