The sky was already dim by the time Tyler left the academy. The streets were mostly quiet now, washed in the soft orange glow of streetlamps. A breeze passed by, rustling the trees that lined the sidewalk.
He walked alone.
The others had taken the tram or caught rides with friends, but Tyler preferred the walk. It helped him think. Especially tonight.
His mana still lingered faintly in the air around him, curling behind his steps in faint wisps of grey. It looked like mist, but vanished when he reached out to touch it.
Ghost attribute.
He flexed his fingers and watched the light gather softly in his palm. Earlier today, it hadn't even existed. Now it felt like it had always been part of him. A new extension of who he was.
It should've felt exciting, but all he felt now was… quiet.
No celebration. No rush of pride.
Just quiet.
That was when it hit him.
A pressure. Not physical—but mental, deep and strange. Like a pulse at the back of his mind. Not painful, but impossible to ignore.
He stopped walking.
His breath caught for a second, and then something clicked inside his head—sharp, sudden, and unfamiliar.
Words formed in his mind, not spoken, not seen, just… known.
[New Skill Acquired: Ghost Refining]By slaying a monster, you may extract and refine a ghost from its remains.Refined ghosts can be stored, altered, or used in combat support.Refinement only applies to organic monsters.Limit: 1 active Ghost.
Tyler blinked.
He looked around, half-expecting someone nearby. But the street was empty. Nothing but parked cars and the occasional drone humming overhead.
He stood there for a moment, silent.
This wasn't something the academy had mentioned. Skills didn't just appear. Students learned techniques through study and practice. You didn't just unlock a spell in your head like a message in a game.
But this was different. And he could feel it.
The words weren't just thoughts—they were instructions. Clear. Intentional. A part of him now.
Ghost Refining.
He sat down on a nearby bench, adjusting the strap of his bag. His heart had settled, but his thoughts hadn't. This wasn't something he could ignore.
The ability to refine something from monsters? Ghosts, apparently?
Not illusions. Not tricks. Real, usable echoes drawn from the things they fought.
It wasn't standard training. It wasn't even in the Tier curriculum. But if it worked like the description said… it could be useful. Maybe more than useful.
But why me?
He didn't believe in fate. The academy didn't talk about chosen ones or special bloodlines. Skills were earned, not gifted. But this—this felt like a gift.
Or a test.
He leaned back and watched the sky. Clouds drifted slowly overhead, breaking up the last traces of twilight.
Tyler didn't know what this Ghost Refining ability really meant yet. He didn't know what the refined ghosts would look like, or how he'd use them. He didn't even know if it was safe.
But one thing was clear.
It gave him an edge.
Most students trained for months to get strong enough to hunt monsters. And they gained strength slowly—tier by tier, level by level.
But if Tyler could take something from the monsters…
Store it. Use it. Grow from it.
Then maybe—just maybe—he could climb faster.
Not by skipping steps, but by choosing a different path.
He stood again, adjusting his bag.
I don't know how far this will take me, he thought. But I'd be stupid not to use it.
He didn't feel invincible. But he finally had something that felt his own. And that was enough.
The last few blocks passed quietly. Houses grew closer together. Lights warmed the windows. A kid rode past on a mana scooter, trailing sparks from the back wheel.
Tyler took the usual turn near the old bookstore and crossed the familiar street where the road cracked near the drain. Everything felt the same.
But he wasn't.
At the end of the block stood his home. A small, sloped-roof house with fading paint and an old porch light that flickered when the wind picked up.
He stopped in front of it.
The grey mist around his fingers faded slowly as he closed his hand. The strange pressure in his head was gone now, but the memory of that skill—those words—remained sharp.
Tyler exhaled through his nose.
Tomorrow, he'd go back to training. Same schedule. Same instructors. Same tests.
But tonight… he had something new.
And he wasn't going to waste it.
He stepped onto the porch, the wood creaking slightly beneath his weight, and reached for the door.