NOVEL NEXT Chapter 31: The Art of Six Senses.
The woman sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes.
"Damn it… this is the first time I've ever seen someone jump four whole ranks in a day." She lowered the clipboard slowly. "Alright. Fine. Kid… you win."
Silas shrugged, and a small chuckle escaped from his mouth. "I didn't know that we were competing or something like that."
She ignored him and waved toward the hallway.
"Come with me, miracle rookie. You're getting your B-Rank ID card now. And don't you dare break anything else from our department, got it?"
Silas took both of his hands up in the air, closed his eyes and let out a small chuckle. "I'm not going to give any kind of promises."
The procedures regarding the new rank-up took a while—a lot of scanning, signing papers, confirming the stats, a photo that made him look like a sleep-deprived criminal—but eventually all of it went well, and he walked out of the Awakened Headquarters holding a black card with silver marking on it.
B-Rank Awakened — Silas Veil
The moment he saw it, everything inside him buzzed. He realised that he had power, money, respect and maybe in the future fame too.
Doors of opportunity will start to open from everywhere now. He held the card between the fingers of both his hands, like it were made out of pure gold.
"Damn…" he whispered under his breath. "That feels good… really good." A menacing grin curled up on his lips.
As he walked past the receptionist, she exhaled through her nose, arms crossed next to her stomach.
"Well, congratulations, miracle rookie. I didn't think that you had it in you, I expected a case of suicide and scolding."
He smirked as he looked behind, looking into her eyes. "Neither did I." A small wink twitched from his right eye.
"Don't die, I have high hopes for your future now." She said bluntly.
Silas didn't reply back to her, turned behind as he stepped into the daylight, card tucked neatly in his pocket.
Silas didn't bother about the taxi, he felt too alive to sit still now. His ego was too full, sharp. So he decided to run. The moment his feet hit the pavement, his body started to move on its own.
The world blurred. Cars became streaks of metal. Buildings drifted past him in long shapes. People turned into shadows. Wind whipped against his face so hard that his hair stuck straight back.
But he didn't slow down, he ran through the main streets, the side alleys, the curved bridges, the abandoned industrial parks. He ran until the roads twisted in ways that he didn't recognize.
Every corner of the city, every turn, his body responded to it instantly. There was no kind of stiffness in his joints, no hesitation.
Just the movement, fast, steady, precise steps.
His lungs finally started to burn, feet pounded the ground fiercely. But still he didn't stop. Not for the first hour, not for the second hour of the run.
Not even when sweat soaked his shirt and dripped down his back like someone emptied a bucket over him.
He pushed himself further, past his limits which he didn't know existed.
Because somewhere inside his mind, Michael's voice echoed.
'A technique is learned by repeating it until your bones remember the shape of it.'
If the thing that Archangel Michael said was true, then this was what it meant to make his body remember how to move. How to endure the pain, how to survive in this world.
By the time the sun dipped lower and the wind cooled, Silas turned into the familiar block of his old apartment. His breath was ragged. His shirt was drenched. His legs felt heavy, shaking with every step.
But still he didn't slow down, not until he reached the front of his apartment building.
He stopped there, bending down with his hands resting on his knees, panting so hard that he thought his chest might burst open.
His whole body was trembling, and sweat rolled down his jaw, dripping onto the concrete.
He stood there silently, catching his breath. A small breathless chuckle escaped his mouth.
"That's… one hundred kilometers." A small smirk curled up on his lips.
The mechanical echo of the system chimed in his mind.
[Daily Assignment Progress:
[✓ 100 km Running — Completed]
Silas straightened up slowly, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
His body felt like a used towel wrung dry — but strangely, underneath all the pain, there was a fire burning. A growing heat inside him.
He walked up the cracked stairs, one step at a time, boots leaving faint footprints behind.
The moment he entered back into his apartment, he let his back hit the wall and slid down to a sitting position.
His head fell back, leaning on the wall. His breath came out in long, tired waves.
"Haah… haaah…The whole day… was fucking insane."
He wiped his face again with the back of his hand and exhaled.
The system's panel appeared in front of his eyes
[God's Tutor List – Available Courses]
Silas raised one of his brows in confusion. "Oh… yeah. The thing about 'learn from the gods like video lessons.' Thing."
He tapped onto the panel lazily, barely lifting his finger.
Different divine courses shimmered brightly on the list: sword forms, magical theory, body enhancement, mana expansion, and advanced combat patterns. Each one came with a divine instructor profile.
Silas clicked his tongue in confusion, scratching his chin. "System, what course should I go for next? These all look insane to me. I don't want to pick something wrong."
Silas clicked his tongue.
The system answered immediately.
[Host, you should learn the Art of the Six Senses.
[I will assign you the best tutor for it.]
Silas raised an eyebrow. "The Art of the Six Senses, huh? It surely sounds interesting to me." A small smirk curled up on his lips.
The system began searching for the tutor. Symbols spun on the screen. Silas leaned forward a bit, curious