Return Of The SSS-Class Hunter

The moment the instructor's voice echoed through the chamber, Derek kicked off the ground.

His body shot forward like an arrow... blindfolded, bells tied at his waist and ankles.

The moment his foot landed on the first patch of uneven ground, the entire hallway seemed to come alive.

Fwoosh!

A wooden log swung from the right.

Derek heard the faint whistle of displaced air a split second before impact. He twisted his torso, barely slipping under it — his bell remained silent.

But he hadn't taken more than three steps when...

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!

Kunai-like knives shot toward him from multiple directions, slicing through the air with deadly intent.

He ducked the first… managed to pivot away from the second..

But the third one..

Shhk!

grazed his arm, drawing blood. His bell at the waist trembled dangerously.

He could barely take a few more steps when another trap activated immediately.

Crack!

The ground beneath him suddenly tilted, forming a sharp slope. Derek lost his balance for a moment.

Jingle! Jingle!

The bells didn't show any mercy.

"Damn it!" he hissed, forcing his weight forward.

But the chamber didn't give him time to stabilize.

Another swinging log came — this time from the left.

Next, a knife shot up from the floor with a metallic clang.

Vines at the side suddenly jerked like living whips, snapping toward him.

WHAP!

One struck his shoulder, spinning him sideways. His ankle bell shook violently.

Two more bells rang as he staggered.

"Argh!" Derek gritted his teeth.

The traps felt endless. Every step activated something — falling rocks, tiny explosive bursts, spinning wooden wheels, needle darts, slipping mud patches, low-hanging branches...

He dodged some with pure instinct. Others slammed into him before he could react. His body was knocked left and right like a ragdoll violently.

Still.... he didn't stop.

He forced his feet to move, even though every step felt like shattering bone grinding against bone.

His breaths grew harsh, wet with pain. Each new trap drew more blood, tore more cloth, bruised more bone.

But somehow, by sheer stubbornness, he pushed through the final barrage.

A torrent of wooden spikes burst from below.

He leapt, barely avoiding them.

His body slammed into the ground on the other side and rolled.

Finally, he crossed the finish line.

Silence fell.

The bells finally stopped ringing.

For a moment, Derek just lay there, chest heaving, body trembling, blood dripping from dozens of cuts. His clothing was shredded, barely hanging on to him. His arm felt twisted, and his ribs burned with every breath, as if cracked in multiple places.

He slowly tried to sit up and nearly coughed blood.

Footsteps rushed toward him.

The instructor arrived first, eyes wide.

"Derek! You… you did amazing considering this was your first trial!"

Derek looked up, completely expressionless, as if the man had lost his mind.

"Amazing?!" he snapped. "Do you even see what condition I'm in? I barely came out alive."

The instructor coughed lightly and looked away, but he still maintained a proud tone.

"Yes, well… no matter what, you wouldn't have died. I was on guard the whole time. If you were actually in danger, I would've stopped the trial instantly."

Derek stared at him with the deadest expression known to mankind.

"Anyway… here."

He pulled out a small jade bottle and handed Derek a pill.

"This is a recovery pill. A strong one. Consume it."

Derek didn't hesitate. He quickly swallowed it.

In the next second..

A warmth washed over him, a powerful stream of energy surging through his body. His bones cracked again, this time realigning themselves. Cuts sealed. Bruises faded. Torn muscles knitted back together.

Within moments, he looked as if he had never been touched.

His uniform was entirely different, though.

Derek flexed his fingers, astonished. "This is… insane."

The instructor grinned.

"Good. Now that you're fine... go again."

Derek's eyes froze. "Again?"

"What? You don't want to master the technique?"

"I do," Derek said with a sigh.

"Then, on your feet already. But this time, focus. Try to feel the shifts around you. Either it's smell, sound, or sensation in your skin, try to feel what's coming just like you practiced in your second stage of this technique."

Derek sighed deeply. "I hope I don't regret this."

But he returned to the starting line.

And then he shot forward again without hesitation when the instructor gave a signal.

This time, he paid more attention to his surroundings. It felt as if the time had slowed for him as he tried to feel the subtle changes around him.

A log swung..

He dodged.

Knives shot...

He slipped under them.

The vines whipped...

He jumped back instantly.

Still, a few traps hit him. A spike clipped his thigh. A dart grazed his shoulder. His bells rang maybe four times this round.

He crossed the finish line breathing heavily but far less damaged.

The instructor's eyes glowed. "Good. Here." He handed a pill again. Swallowing that, Derek returned to his peak again. And that wasn't all. He could also feel a subtle increase in his overall strength.

Then he started again.

And again.

And again.

It continued endlessly.

Each time, Derek's movements became sharper, cleaner, smoother. His steps grew more precise. His reactions faster. His instincts keener.

His bells began ringing fewer and fewer times.

From dozens..

To ten..

To six...

To three...

To two..

Each improvement shocked the instructor so much that he began muttering to himself.

'Is he a monster or what? How can anyone progress this fast? Anyone else would take years to reach this stage… yet this kid is doing it in hours?'

The four students — Paul, Mia, Billy, and Harold had stopped training entirely. They just stood there, mouths hanging, watching a real-life beast evolve in front of them.

Paul swallowed nervously. "Is… is this what talent looks like?"

Billy shook his head. "No… this is beyond talent."

Mia's voice trembled. "Maybe he's not even human."

Even Harold couldn't argue.

His usual unreadable face was drenched in shock.