By the ti Timothy made it ho, exhaustion clung to him like a second skin.
But hunger ca first.
He threw together a al and ate quickly, shoveling food into his mouth like a man starved.
Because he was.
Days without proper als hadn't slowed him yet, but he knew it was only a matter of ti.
Then ca the training.
No matter how loudly his body scread for rest, he ignored it.
Pain was just another threshold to cross.
By nightfall, his routine was complete.
---
DING!
[Daily Quest: A Strong Body]
Push-ups – 200/200 (Completed)
Sit-ups – 200/200 (Completed)
Squats – 200/200 (Completed)
Running – 20 km/20 km (Completed)
[Daily Quest Completed]
[You have received 4 free stat points]
[Do you wish to claim your rewards? Y/N]
Timothy didn't hesitate. Yes.
[Choose a Reward]
1. Full Recovery
2. 3 Stat Points
3. Random Box
This was always the hard part.
The second or third option?
With a sigh, he picked the second.
[You have received 3 Stat Points]
Seven free points now.
If he kept this pace, in less than a month, he'd be twice as strong.
Lying on his thin mattress, he stared at the ceiling.
No allies.
No recognition.
No one to rely on.
But that would change.
Tomorrow, he'd prove himself.
---
One Week Later and he was still proving.
The world felt against him sohow.
Days blurred together.
Al he did was to Wake up.
Train.
Eat sparingly.
Search for raid jobs.
Get rejected.
Repeat.
His past failures followed him like a curse.
No one wanted to hire soone with his record.
By midweek, he was rationing food, his stomach an empty pit demanding more than he could afford.
Then his phone rang.
RING! RING!
Timothy bolted upright.
His phone vibrated against the table.
He hadn't received a call since getting his SIM card back.
Who the hell was calling?
He answered.
"Hello?"
"Tim? It's ! You there?"
He frowned.
"Who's this?"
"I told you I'd put in a word for you, rember? Well, I did. If you're free, I've got so raid jobs lined up."
Timothy's grip tightened.
Finally.
"Oh, Mr. Dede, I appreciate it. I've been looking for a raid."
"If that's the case, I'll send you their contact info."
"Thank you."
Dede hung up.
Monts later, a ssage popped up:
{0805****800, KingPin, Raid Supervisor}
Timothy scoffed.
"What a cliché na."
Still, he didn't hesitate.
He dialed.
The call connected after a single ring.
Before he could speak, a robotic voice cut in.
"Na and purpose."
Cold.
Efficient.
This wasn't a guild, more like an underground operation.
"Timothy Walter. I'm applying for a raid."
"What rank?"
"E-Rank," he admitted.
A brief pause.
"Okay. We'll send you a ssage. Reply with ACCEPT if you're available."
"I understand."
The call ended abruptly.
Doubt gnawed at him.
Had he just been rejected again? He considered a rank re-evaluation but hesitated.
Sothing about this group intrigued him.
anwhile, as he waited, another problem surfaced.
By now, the neighbors were probably complaining.
Their crops weren't thriving as usual.
And Timothy had a good guess why.
He played dumb.
That night, after finishing his training, his phone buzzed.
A new ssage.
---
[SSAGE ANT FOR: TIMOTHY WALTER]
Position: Porter
Team: 10
Gate Rank: C
Status: Uncleared
Location: Mile 3 Bridge
Ti: Before dawn
Paynt and other details will be communicated at the eting point.
---
Timothy's pulse quickened.
It felt like getting a job after months of unemploynt.
His chance to move forward.
Yet... sothing felt off.
Sending raid details so openly? It almost seed too easy.
But then again, what wasn't shady in this country?
He couldn't forget the Association still had its eyes on him.
He had to tread carefully.
Before resting, he checked his inventory.
His gaze lingered on the thermo flask, a missed opportunity.
If he'd used it properly in the Layered Dungeon, it could have saved him so much pain.
But regrets wouldn't change the past.
Then there was his dungeon reward, a diary in a language he didn't recognize.
Unreadable, mysterious, and possibly valuable.
For now, he left it alone.
The scarf was enough of a reward.
He debated bringing a weapon but dismissed the thought.
He was a porter, carrying one would raise suspicions.
Besides, he could defend himself just fine.
Finally, he checked his status for the first ti since returning.
---
[Status]
Na: Timothy Walter
Title: Goblin Slayer
Trait: Hybrid
Level: 22
HP: 7800
MP: 40
Fatigue: 20
Strength: 55
Stamina: 35
Agility: 28
Intelligence: 20
Perception: 25
Free Stat Points: 49
[Skills]
King – Lv. Max
Dash – Lv. 2
Pheromones
– Lv. 4
Armant – Lv. 1
Tenacity
– Lv. 1
[Colony]
Silverback Termite – Lv. 22
---
No major changes.
Not that he expected any.
But his Trait... Unstable.
The system's warning echoed in his mind.
If you lose control, you'll be fatally injured... or worse.
He thought back to his fight with the Human King, the mont his arm darkened into sothing unnatural.
That wasn't Armant.
It was sothing else.
Sothing foreign.
Sothing dangerous.
And then there was that constant, nagging feeling, like chains wrapped around him, holding sothing back.
Pushing aside the unease, Timothy turned his attention elsewhere.
He hadn't checked his companion's status in a while.
"Well, no ti like the present," he muttered, selecting Gray's status.
---
[Status: Gray]
Level: 22
Species: Silverback Termite
Skills: Scout – Lv. 3, Mind – Lv. 1, Predation – Lv. 1
---
Timothy frowned, caught off guard by the changes.
He didn't fully understand the termite's skills, and the system had a habit of keeping him in the dark until it decided otherwise.
Scout was obvious, termites were social creatures, and he assud it was a passive skill that enhanced awareness.
But Mind and Predation? Those were far more ambiguous.
Mind could an intelligence, ntal resistance, or even sothing more sinister.
Predation was self-explanatory, but how did it function? Did Gray beco more efficient at hunting? Stronger? More aggressive?
One thing was certain, he didn't want to be caught off guard by his own companion.
And what better way to learn than to ask the owner of the skill itself?
Timothy turned, scanning for Gray.
As if anticipating the attention, the small termite sat on the table, watching him with eerie patience.
Then a new thought struck him.
Could Gray see the system interface too?
A grin ford on his face.
"Well, this should be fun."
The next several minutes were filled with what could only be described as a man attempting to interrogate a termite.
It wasn't easy.
Timothy tried various ways to communicate, gestures, vocal commands, even willing a connection through their bond, but Gray's responses were limited.
The termite didn't understand the system in the way he did.
It operated purely on instinct, following urges it couldn't explain.
Yet, he did learn sothing useful, Gray saw him as more than just a companion.
Not quite fear.
Not blind loyalty either.
It was sothing between reverence and dependence.
Timothy wasn't sure how to feel about that.
His gaze drifted back to his system interface.
The Colony Tab.
And a new idea ford.
"What if I tried adding more termites to the colony? They could be useful in the long run..."
But before he could explore the thought further, a more imdiate responsibility called him back.
His raid invitation.
He almost forgot he had to reply back.
{Accept}
With the confirmation sent, he assud they would receive it soon.
With nothing left to do for the night, he double-checked his preparations and drifted off to sleep, a rare sense of anticipation bubbling within him.
---
At 4 AM, Timothy was wide awake, his body thrumming with excitent.
It had been a long ti since his last raid, and the anticipation had kept him from sleeping properly.
To pass the ti, he completed his daily quest, which had sohow doubled in difficulty.
He didn't question it anymore, complaining wouldn't change the system's mind.
His outfit was simple but functional, flashy, just what a porter should wear.
After ensuring everything was set, he carefully tucked Gray into his scarf.
The termite was growing fast, and soon, he'd need to register it with the Association.
If soone mistook it for a dungeon monster, explaining would be a nightmare.
He skipped breakfast, saving money was a priority and set off on foot toward the etup location.
It was a long walk.
The furthest he'd gone alone, but in the cool darkness, he considered it a warm-up exercise.
By the ti he arrived near the bridge, it was minutes shy of 5 AM.
As expected, no one was in sight.
At least, not visibly.
His perception picked up multiple presences hiding in the shadows.
Again, I'm last.
He pretended not to notice them.
A voice finally broke the silence.
"Timothy Walter?"
He turned to face a woman who had stepped forward.
"Follow ."
She didn't wait for a response, leading him under the bridge where the rest of the group was gathered.
That's when he saw it.
A shimring blue portal, floating in midair.
A Gate.
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