Norman had already prepared everything he needed for his first real mana beast hunt. His gear was packed tightly into his worn canvas bag. He'd bought three basic daggers, a budget-tier body armor that looked more like a motorcyclist's protective suit than something a hunter would wear, and shoved it underneath his hooded sweatshirt. On top of that, he wore gloves, safety shoes, and knee and elbow pads—most of which were the cheapest his student allowance could afford.
Even though his physique, enhanced by his Mana Adept status, was already at a superhuman level, wearing all this gear gave him a sense of mental security. It made him feel prepared—invincible, even. Topping off his look was a black motorcycle helmet tucked under his hood, completing the image of a low-budget superhero. He struck a pose in the mirror before leaving.
"Safety first," he said to himself with a grin, flexing dramatically.
---
Riding the bus to the city's guarded border only took about thirty minutes. As he approached the outer gates, he showed his hunter bracelet ID to one of the government border security guards. The man glanced at Norman's fully-armored appearance, his eyes lingering on the awkward mix of gear. A flicker of amusement crossed his face.
"You're with Marlowe Hunting Company, right? Their territory is just a five-minute walk from here," the guard said, handing over a printed map. "Here, this is the beginner's zone. Good luck out there, newbie."
Norman blinked. "How'd you know I was a newbie?"
The guard smirked. "It's in the gear, kid. You scream first-timer."
Norman flushed slightly behind his helmet. "Thanks."
"Just doing my job," the guard replied, waving him through.
---
Five minutes later, Norman entered the designated hunting zone.
The transition from city outskirts to wilderness was stark. The vegetation was thick, and the mana density here was far heavier than in the city—oppressive and raw, as if the land itself breathed magic. It wasn't hard to understand why mana beast populations kept rising. This environment was a breeding ground.
Not long after stepping deeper into the forest, Norman noticed movement—a rustle in the bushes to his right. He tensed. A moment later, a first-tier feral mana beast emerged, its shape resembling a lean, snarling wolf. Its eyes glowed faintly with embedded mana, and its fur bristled as it crouched low, ready to pounce.
Perfect, Norman thought. This would be his first hunt.
He steadied his breath. Then, with practiced focus, he activated his Mental Manipulation talent. An invisible force latched onto the wolf-beast, holding it in place. The creature howled and thrashed against the unseen grip—but Norman was already moving.
Boosted by his mana-reinforced muscles, he dashed forward in a blur, driving his fist directly into the beast's skull. Bone shattered on impact. The creature collapsed, dead before it even realized what happened.
Clean. Efficient.
Norman knelt by the body and retrieved the partially-formed mana crystal embedded within the beast. It wasn't a full low-grade crystal—probably about 50 or 60% of one.
"Still useful," he muttered. In this world, low mana crystals were typically harvested from first- and second-tier creatures, including humans. Medium-grade crystals came from third and fourth tiers. High-grade ones from fifth and sixth. Pure mana crystals, however, could only be extracted from seventh- or eighth-tier beasts—and the ninth-tier was so rare and powerful that no one knew what kind of crystal it produced.
"System, exchange the mana beast corpse for points."
> [Ding! Gained 0.5 point.]
Norman frowned. "Wait, only half a point?"
> [The stronger you become and the weaker your enemy, the less valuable they are to the system. Try exchanging equal-tiered creatures.]
Norman scowled. "You call yourself an Equal Exchange System? More like a Grind-Until-You-Drop System!"
> [Name change denied.]
"...Of course."
He sighed, dragging the beast's body aside. "Let's just get this over with."
Then, on impulse, he looked up at a thick tree nearby.
"System, exchange that tree for points."
> [Ding! Gained 0.3 point.]
A grin spread across his face. "Ha! I knew it."
He was briefly tempted to go full lumberjack and start leveling the forest for quick points. But then reality set in. Stripping trees recklessly would attract attention, not to mention cause environmental imbalance—which would inevitably backfire. If a patch of forest looked suspiciously cleared out, any passing scout or hunter would investigate.
"Better not mess with karma," he muttered. "Besides, I don't need eco-terrorist charges on top of everything else."
---
With that, Norman entered grinding mode.
He prowled the edges of the hunting zone, dispatching first-tier beasts with practiced ease. Thanks to his all-around talents and combat training, even the most aggressive feral creatures fell quickly under his enhanced strength and mental control. He moved strategically, staying near the outer edges where danger was low but beasts were plentiful.
Each kill brought a small reward. Half a point here, a full point there. Sometimes he'd find a beast with a nearly full mana crystal, adding to his reserves.
Occasionally, he'd spot a tree that looked out of place and discreetly exchanged it for more points. He stayed subtle—never clearing too many in one place. It was about balance. Grinding smart, not just hard.
After four solid hours of hunting, he leaned against a mossy boulder and checked his system panel.
> [Points: 332]
Not bad for a half-day's work.
He looked around. The trees in this area were thinning—likely from his own activity—and first-tier beasts were becoming harder to find. Either he'd cleared too many already, or they'd retreated deeper into the forest sensing the threat.
Either way, it was time for a break.
He slid his helmet off and sat down on a log, letting the forest air cool his sweat-soaked face. The smell of dirt, leaves, and mana drifted around him. It was strange—he had never imagined himself out here, alone in the wilderness, wearing secondhand armor and illegally exchanging trees for system points.
And yet, it felt right.
"I'll rest for a bit," he murmured. "Then back to the grind."
The forest around him was quiet now, like it was holding its breath. Norman smiled slightly.