Revamp (I)

  “....And that’s what happened.” Cyril remarked confidently, signaling the end of his slightly modified version of events that happened during the final assessment. In his mind, the story was convincing enough to escape even the sharp judgement of the hunter association’s chairman.

  “The phantom purge triggered your second awakening ?!”

  Henry's stunned shout rattled off the inside of the dorm's bare walls, bouncing back at him like an echo of his own disbelief.

  Originally, they were all supposed to assemble in the living room of Cyril’s private quarters—a surprisingly empty space that consisted of little more than a large floor carpet and a small coffee table carelessly placed in the center—but at the moment only two of the highschoolers were there. Henry was a bit further back, rummaging through Cyril’s fridge like a hungry raccoon.

  “I’m supposed to go to the hunter association today for a re-evaluation, so I can’t say for sure yet but based on the vibe everyone was giving off that’s likely the case.” Cyril—sipping on another can of the cheap coffee replied confidently.

  “You certainly feel different from my perspective. It’s like you’ve changed somehow, not just because of the hair and eye color. It's something more fundamental.” Elizabeth commented, mimicking the motions of her host with her own coffee can. For a highschooler, he certainly had a lot of them to go around.

  “Let’s hope you’re right about that.”

  She followed the whims of her wandering Irises before speaking again.

  “By the way Cyril, are you having trouble deciding what to buy for your room? It’s surprisingly empty in here.”

  “You could say that. I’m not really used to having a lot of stuff in my room either way so its probably just a habit I carried over when I moved in. The upside is that it makes this place a lot easier to clean.”

  “Is that so?” Elizabeth repeated, keeping her eyes level and indulging in another sip. “If that’s the case then would you like some help? I wouldn’t mind helping you out after we get done with our own curriculum you know.”

  Elizabeth’s help huh? Well, she does seem to have a good sense of style so I guess it's worth a shot.

  Within microseconds, he assessed her with quiet scrutiny and reached a conclusion.

  “Sure, I’d like that.” he said, giving a subtle bow.

  “Oi C-Cyril!”

  Henry called again, his mouth churning viciously.

  “Iz dis yoo?” he asked, leaning over the kitchen counter with his smartphone. The six-inch screen was displaying a video that had gone viral recently. A recollection of a fierce battle between a silver haired boy and a hellish infernal creature.

  Watching himself fight shirtless was a bit embarrassing, but with no other plausible excuse to offer, Cyril simply replied ‘Yes’.

  “....Far reel?” Henry now stumped, asked through his widening maw.

  “T-That’s an upper C-rank monster you know, and you beat it all by yourself. There’s no way you’re a D-rank anymore.” said the girl beside him, looking just as confused as her uniformed counterpart.

  “Well, a lot happened. I’ll let you know for sure by the end of today—promise.” Cyril told them, smiling awkwardly from the sudden praise.

  He wasn’t very interested in hearing that from strangers, but seeing two of his closest friends look so shocked by his progress did fill him with a feeling of pride.

  “To think you, of all people would get so strong out of nowhere. You were already quite a handful with just your swordsmanship and those exceptional flexes of yours.” Elizabeth muttered dubiously, carefully examining her classmate.

  “Tell me about it.” Cyril’s cunning retort dissuaded a bit of the scrutiny in her eyes, soliciting a reserved smile in its place.

  Beep.Beep.Beep.

  A small watch-looking device on the kempt girl’s wrist suddenly beeped to life. Alarmed, her eyes quickly scanned the notification before she rushed to her feet with an unnatural amount of grace, skirt barely even fluttering with the motion.

  “Henry we’ve been here too long, we’ve only got about an hour before our next practical starts!” She snapped, tapping her watch impatiently.

  “Crap!” the probable delinquent cursed. After throwing out a casual ‘sorry Cyril’ he carelessly scaled over the young man’s kitchen counter with reckless abandon and bolted for the door.

  “Cyril, I'm glad you’re back. We’ll catch up some other time!” Elizabeth declared, straightening her uniform and speeding out the door. Henry followed behind her with a handful of the cheap coffee cans he recently plundered.

  “Thanks mate, I owe you one!” he said, clapping his friend on the back and whooshing for the exit.

  “Careful on your way down, you two. You know how the dorm manager can get.” his reply couldn’t even match half of their vigor. Cyril seemed pleased as he watched them go, his features betraying no hint of surprise.

  Now that his senses had gotten a bit sharper after the recalibration, he was sure he could hear their footsteps thumping down the far end of the hallway.

  “Even someone as studious Liz can mess up sometimes huh?”

  Now alone, Cyril glanced over to the backpack he’d carefully set atop the table earlier. Upon retrieving the small fist sized orb inside, he assumed a cross-legged posture on the floor.

  Aria, how long will it take for me to absorb the skill stored inside this thing?

  [Answer. The assimilation of the infernal’s skill is 65% complete. The process can be completed in two hours if no further disruptions occur.]

  "Mhm, there's still a few hours left until my assessment. Let's see how much I can learn about these skills before then.” Smiling to himself, Cyril closed his eyes and returned to his mental forge.

  [Alert. Assimilation of the extra skill ‘Flameweaver’ is now complete. Calibration is required before it can be added to your skillset. Additionally, the capacity of your Affinity Index has been reached—further acquisition of skills is not possible, but further development of your unique skill remains achievable. ]

  Unique Skills: [Juggernaut] [Counter Stop] [Life surge]

  Extra Skills: [Mobius]

  [Scenarios Completed: 1/8]

  The invisible screen appeared once again before his sleepy eyes. He mulled over it for a bit, and feeling a sense of pride from his recent achievements—specifically the completion of the first scenario—Cyril smiled. He had passed out on the floor after an arduous trial-and-error process, where he experimented with the applications of [Juggernaut] on himself. It wasn’t much, but now that he had gauged the skill’s mechanics firsthand, he felt a lot more comfortable using it. As wonderful as the achievement was, it still came with a cost—namely, his vitality.

  One could only do so much resting in the brief two hours of sleep he got.

  “Alright, I feel a bit better now.”

  [Notice. Your unique skill life surge can be applied to negate the prolonged effects of your drowsiness by enhancing metabolic activity.]

  Aria's words registered in his hazy mind, but they failed to resonate with any particular significance. He dismissed them as something to learn later. However, the lingering effects of his slumber made Aria's robotic voice sound even clearer, to the point where it began to echo in his mind. In little more than a week, he found himself acclimating to her presence as if it were only natural.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  How terrifying it was to grow used to something.

  >>>---<<<

  July 31, Central Year 119 (P.R.E.)

  2:50 p.m.

  Ten minutes before his appointed evaluation time, Cyril approached the front entrance of the most prestigious building in all of district seven. It was a tall, modern high-rise with a sleek, rectangular design, featuring reflective glass windows on its main fa?ade and a solid, dark concrete side panel. One would think that the words “Babylon Hunter Association” would be stylishly slapped on its front end and stylized with gold linings or something, but no, there was no over-the-top text to be seen anywhere on the modern skyscraper.

  Instead, the building merely featured the association’s insignia, an artistic depiction of a lone wolf’s silhouette, the very same insignia that had earned the organization its secondary title—that being Fenrir. Cyril casually approached the exalted establishment, the faintest hints of a smile playing on his lips. His outfit was rather casual and wholly contrasted with the other swaths of people closing in on the automatic glass doors.

  Clad in nothing more than a half-open hoodie over a white T-shirt and the lower half of a tracksuit, his purpose there was unmistakable. Even the guards in the lobby, standing at attention in their matching dark suits and polished loafers, could instinctively sense it.

  The glass doors slid open, seamlessly welcoming him into the air-conditioned lobby. The space was a testament to modern luxury. Polished marble floors gleamed under soft, recessed lighting, and a massive chandelier hung overhead like a cascade of frozen raindrops. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, blending harmoniously with the quiet hum of activity.

  It was easy to get a fair estimate on a hunter’s standing in the organization simply from their appearance. Anyone from B rank and above easily stood out either because of their high end, expensive equipment or their accompanying party. The real pros—the S ranks — usually opted for formal wear whenever they had to make an appearance. With that kind of power, there was really no need for them to bring flashy equipment around all the time, if anything it would just end up being a hindrance.

  Hunters below that threshold —the domain of C-ranks and those of a similar standing were much easier to spot because of how their appearance seemed modest, or even lacking in comparison, but above all it was the trainees who stood out the most.

  Often times their casual clothing, optimized for flexibility and ease of movement immediately gave off the impression of a deviant trying their luck as opposed to a real hunter. In Cyril’s case, the instant the guards caught sight of him a large, bulky bald man quietly stepped across the room and approach the boy who always managed to seem out of place somehow.

  His newfound head of silver hair was doing him no favors at the moment.

  “Excuse me.” the man said, calling out in a gruff voice. “For the sake of efficiency, this area has been reserved for those who have already signed a contract with the association. Newbie evaluations are this way, please follow me.”

  “No that won’t be necessary. The chairman will personally oversee my evaluation.”

  His words made the guard heave an agonizing sigh. It wasn't so much the boy's tone, but rather because of the confident smirk he had unconsciously walked in with. “Look kid, if you came here trying to pull some slick prank or pitch yourself to the chairman, you better leave now. We don’t have that kind of time.” The words grated in his throat from the abundance of emphasis he placed on that last sentence.

  Although subtle, the guard’s aura had been deployed to a subdued extent, just enough to intimidate a young rookie like the one wordlessly standing before him. Seconds ticked by with no response from the youngster, a reaction that the guard must have interpreted as disrespectful.

  Dum

  An explosive force clamped down on Cyril’s shoulder. The grip from a regular human hand wasn’t capable of generating that kind of power, but this place was exempted from such candid rules. They were in a building specifically designated to those who deviated from the norm.

  Naturally, the ones assigned to guard such a place were also subjected to said deviation as well.

  “We’ve recently revised our policy regarding walk in evaluations. They’re no longer being offered here at the main branch so I think we might need to inspect your identity, young man. You know, for security reasons.” rumbled the glowing guard, his tone hoarse.

  [Alert. Hostile intent detected. Preemptive action is recommended.]

  The assistant’s robotic tone didn’t have the slightest change in its intonation, but under the current circumstances his mind couldn’t help but mix in its own exaggerated flair to lace her warning with a hint of concern.

  That's not necessary Aria.

  [ Possible Misjudgment? The current threat still has yet to be neutralized.]

  Well yeah, we can’t ‘neutralize’ the guy. There are better ways to deal with these kinds of situations my friend.

  [...friend?]

  The brief moment of inaudible telepathy felt like eons to the hairless guard, a fact he didn’t seem to be very thrilled about since this rookie had only replied to him one time ever since he arrived.

  “Sir, I’m afraid we’re starting to attract some attention here, please, follow me.” he muttered the irksome words through a gritted smile, feigning tolerance. Without even waiting for the boy's word, the guard wrung back the arm anchoring Cyril to the spot, intending to wordlessly guide the young rookie elsewhere, however...

  “W-what?”

  Arrested by surprise, the guard slowly lowered his gaze to where his arm was viciously clamped down. Deep wrinkles formed on the shoulder of the trainee's woolen hoodie—a natural side effect of the guard’s grip—but beyond that, nothing else happened. Despite his towering size, standing a full two heads taller and nearly twice as muscular as Cyril, the best his hand could manage was a slight twitch. His muscles contracted relentlessly, straining to force the rookie toward his waiting companions, yet the trainee remained unmoved.

  “Hey kid, h-how are you doing this?” the man asked, imbuing more power into his glowing arm.

  He heard something that sounded like a low sigh go off, then it slowly built itself back up and transitioned into a full series of giggles.

  “Heheheheh~ So it works on things like inertia too, huh? Augmentation sure is useful.” The sly, almost devious sounding giggles continued to build until the boy finally turned his head to meet the man’s startled gaze.

  “Oh, my bad. I’m not here to cause any trouble or anything like that, I just wanted to test something out. As for what I said before, the chairman really will be overseeing my evaluation, look he even sent someone to come get me.” Cyril declared, pointing towards the far end of the room to indicate the delicate-looking old lady walking towards them.

  >>>---<<<

  The lobby was far from empty, but neither Cyril nor the guard could tell whether it was her mid-length dress or the slow waves she gave them that made her so easy to spot.

  “Olivia Dawkins...an S rank. Wait....You were telling the truth?!”

  The guard shifted his gaze between the approaching woman and the giggling trainee a few more times before blinking thrice, his mouth fell agape with no words to offer.

  “Mhm, that’s how it is so can you let me go? My clothes might tear if you keep this up you know.”

  The pressure on his shoulder vanished instantly as the guard hastily flicked his hand away, snapping to attention for the approaching S-rank.

  “Good work George. I don’t know what kind of trouble you were having with him, but I’ll take it from here.” Oliva stated playfully as she came into range and fixed them a smile.

  “No, it was no trouble at all. If you’re going to take over things here, then I will return to my post now, excuse me.” George announced swiftly, then gave a small nod to compliment his sudden departure.

  “I had a feeling something like this would happen so I took the liberty of looking for any signs of trouble around the place, and would you look at that, it turns out my hunch was right.” stated Olivia, who was now in the midst of giving Cyril the equivalent of a quick once over via his mana fluctuations.

  “I wasn’t going to start any trouble principal. There was something I wanted to try so I had him help me out a bit—secretly, of course.”

  “You’ve certainly gotten comfortable with your new appearance. Not just that but you don’t seem to have any trouble soaking up more ambient mana now. I’m glad you’re comfortable in your new skin Cyril, but try to refrain from going overboard until we know exactly what you’re capable of. I have a feeling we’ll be doing away with all of your previous evaluation results after today, I find it hard to believe that you’re still a D-rank.”

  The principal’s words made him chuckle softly.

  Among deviants, S-ranks were second only to saints in terms of power and magical acuity. Their senses were attuned to mana at a level that other deviants couldn't match—like the difference in hearing between a dog and a human. Olivia was one of the chosen few who possessed that kind of sensitivity; if she could tell at a glance that he far exceeded his D-rank evaluation, then the finer details from the magic sensors were hardly even necessary.

  “That’s why I’m here, principal. I want to know exactly what I’m capable of too, and there’s no place better than this to figure it out.” Cyril replied confidently.

  Principal Olivia smiled.

  “Even with all the trouble you cause me, your enthusiasm alone is enough to make up for about half the stress. Since you’re so livid about this, I suppose there’s nothing stopping us from beginning right away. Follow me.”

  With her eyes alone, she traced a path to the elevator on the far end of the room and prompted him to follow before taking the lead. “Thanks again principal, I’ll be in your care~” Cyril told her quietly, clasping both hands in a gesture of gratitude.

  She had intended to silently accept his peculiar show of appreciation, but his next sentence completely skewered any chances of that happening.

  “By the way, you said my enthusiasm only makes up for half the stress you have to deal with, right? What contributes to the other half?”

  “Don’t push it Severin. If I told you that then you’d only get yourself into more trouble.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll make do with half then.”