The girl pushed Fenrir toward a battered old chair near the cube.
"Sit tight. We'll go grab our expert."
She said, flashing a too-sweet smile.
The man winked.
"Don't touch anything, alright? This stuff's sensitive."
Fenrir said nothing as they disappeared through a side door, their laughter echoing faintly behind them.
He turned his gaze to the cube.
From what he remembered, technology in this era wasn't purely mechanical.
It was alive—built on mana currents, woven with magic circuits.
Everything from simple locks to the most complex systems operated through the manipulation of mana.
Which meant, fundamentally, that it could be bent, shaped… or broken.
Fenrir's lips curved slightly behind the mask.
He reached out, brushing the cube's surface with his fingertips. He let a thin thread of mana seep into it—delicate, precise.
Instantly, he felt the device's structure open to him, like a beast recognizing a superior master.
Memories stirred. The host body he now inhabited had once dabbled in illegal hacking and black market technology, using his family's wealth to stay ahead of the law.
The skills, while crude by Fenrir's old standards, were good enough.
'Good enough to make this child's toy kneel.'
With a few simple maneuvers, Fenrir bypassed the security layers.
The cube's screen flickered to life, showing lines of hidden code.
Fenrir's mana wove through them effortlessly, bypassing flags and administrator locks
Within minutes, he found the system registration frame.
Normal users would need an external broker to hack in, forging documents to register as an F-class hunter at best.
Fenrir didn't bother with that.
His mana spread through the framework like a living thing, rewriting permissions, unlocking forbidden sectors.
He registered himself manually.
But he didn't just register as an F-Class or even an S-Class hunter.
He dug deeper, into the authority nodes where system rules were created.
With careful precision, he rewrote his registration, marking himself under the highest possible authority tier—a tier that wasn't even public knowledge anymore.
A position meant for world administrators during the early creation of the hunter system.
'Limitless potential. Absolute freedom. No restrictions.'
When it was done, he leaned back slightly, watching the cube hum as it finalized the process.
In the corner of the screen, he caught sight of his own newly minted ID:
[Name: Fenrir (Alias)
Rank: Unmeasured
Potential: Undefined
Access Level: Supreme Authority]
He scoffed quietly.
'These fools…'
They relied so much on the system that they believed it defined their worth.
Power levels, potential scores, combat rankings—they worshipped numbers like mindless sheep.
But Fenrir saw the truth easily.
The system wasn't an oracle. It was a simple measure. A snapshot of one's current state. It could be fooled, broken, surpassed.
And Fenrir was already beyond it.
Just as he finished, he heard voices approaching from the hallway.
He pulled his mana back, letting the cube fall silent.
The door swung open with a squeal of rusty hinges.
The couple returned, smiling broadly, followed by a third man.
The broker.
He was older, with a patchy beard and bloodshot eyes. His clothes were stained, his mana signature unstable. Desperation clung to him like a second skin.
In the back, Fenrir caught the tail-end of their whispered conversation.
"Charge him big. This kid's dripping in cash. Easy meal."
The girl said, her voice eager.
The broker hesitated.
"You idiots… greed's gonna get you killed someday."
The man slapped the broker on the back.
"C'mon, old man. Play along. You'll get enough to pay off your debt if this goes right."
The broker grimaced, his instincts screaming at him.
But debt was a heavier chain than fear.
"...Fine. But after this, I'm out."
He muttered.
The three approached Fenrir, all smiles and false kindness.
"Alright, little bro. Our expert's here. Gonna hook you up with your system real quick."
The man said cheerfully.
The broker sat heavily in the chair across from Fenrir, the old cube buzzing faintly between them.
He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, forcing himself to meet Fenrir's gaze.
"A-Alright. What kind of system you want, kid?"
The broker stammered.
Fenrir leaned back, his voice low and unimpressed.
"It doesn't matter. Just give me the highest authority possible."
The broker swallowed hard.
His instincts screamed louder with every second. This wasn't some spoiled young master who didn't know what he was doing.
This was a test—and if he failed it, he wouldn't leave this room alive.
"Understood. I'll... I'll set it up."
The broker said quickly, tapping at the cube with shaking fingers.
The couple, standing nearby, grew restless.
The man shifted from foot to foot while the girl crossed her arms, scowling.
"What's taking so long?! It's just some dumb system hack! Move!"
the girl snapped.
The broker flinched but kept working, his fingers gliding across the screens.
The girl shoved past him.
"Forget it! I'll do it myself!"
"Wait—!"
the broker tried to stop her, but she was already hacking into the console with clumsy, aggressive movements.
Fenrir didn't move. He simply watched, silent.
The broker's face drained of blood as error messages started blinking rapidly across the screens.
"No, no, no!" the broker cursed, backing away.
"You triggered the breach protocols! You moron!"
The girl turned to him, sneering.
"What breach—"
An alarm blared through the building, cutting her off. The entire cube flashed bright red.
[WARNING: Unauthorized Access Detected. Initiating Purge Protocol.]
The broker staggered back, swearing violently. "Everyone out! Now! This whole place is gonna blow!"
The man and the girl bolted for the door without hesitation.
The broker turned desperately to Fenrir.
"Kid, MOVE—!"
Fenrir stood calmly, hands in his pockets.
He glanced toward the cube just as a rumble shook the ground under their feet.
A heartbeat later, the entire chamber exploded.
Mana and fire burst outward like a tidal wave.
When the smoke finally cleared, the room was a blackened crater.
Debris was everywhere—twisted metal, broken enchantments, shattered stone.
And among the wreckage stood only two figures.
Fenrir, untouched, his clothes barely ruffled.
And the broker, collapsed on the floor, somehow shielded from the blast by a thin golden barrier he had no memory of conjuring.
The broker gawked at him, his mouth working uselessly for a moment.
He forced himself to sit up, trembling.
"You…You're… Are you some kind of government agent?!"
He gasped.
Fenrir lowered his hood fully now, golden eyes burning through the settling dust.
"No. I'm not."
He said simply.
The broker stared at him, heart pounding painfully in his chest.
"But—"
He began.
Fenrir cut him off with a look.
"I just got my system a few minutes agO."
Fenrir said calmly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The broker's instincts surged violently inside him.
This kid wasn't lying. Somehow, impossibly, it was true.
And at the same time, every part of him screamed
Don't ask. Don't dig. Don't even breathe wrong.
The broker nodded hastily, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"I-I get it. No questions."
He mumbled.
Fenrir smiled faintly, as if pleased.
"Good."
The broker forced himself to stand, swaying slightly.
He didn't know what he had just gotten involved in.
But he knew one thing for sure.
This wasn't just another young master with too much money and too little sense.
This was something far, far worse.
And somehow, he was still alive.
'I should keep myself on this kid's good side. I have a feeling he's a monster hiding in human flesh and one wrong move will get me devoured.'