Doomsmiths (2)

[Name - Greem Southport | Age - 15 Years | Class: Lv. 28 Warrior [D-rank] (300 / 3200)

Attributes:

Strength - 30 (+3) [C] | Agility - 21 [D] | Vitality - 26 [D] | Mana - 32 (+3) [C] 

Talent: Martial Cybernetic Skeleton [B], Swordsmanship Affinity [C]

Passive Skills: Etherum Military Swordsmanship [D], Killing Intent [E]

Active Skills: Focus [E], Stealth [E]

Items: Cybernetic Enhanced Bones [C] (+2 Mana), Cybernetic Flesh [C] (+3 Strength)]

Reading the system pannel was pretty simple and straightforward. There were numerical values, and their rank equivalent based on the NPCs' grading system. Every 10 was a milestone representing a new rank. For instance anything between 10 and 19 was considered E-rank, while anything between 20 and 29 was considered D-rank, and so on. S-rank warriors, which were usually holding the title of generals in a city of the size of Etherum, had stats in the 60s, which was miles ahead of my current status.

It was not just double my stats, in proper combat they could handle hundreds of gang warriors of my level, and I was pretty reputable among officers.

Anyone with a 'profession', meaning a class in terms of game gibberish, was reputable to some extent. They could learn skills with sufficient training, handle some degree of bodily modification like my cybernetic enhanced bones, and could handle a regular human elite athlete with ease. Regular adults only had a couple of points in each stat, and no mana at all, not to mention a skill.

When getting a class, which could happen in the subway, you would faint and go to the hospital. If you were lucky, you could get an offer from a 'guild'. If you were less lucky, then you might get your whole family threatened to enter an organization like the [Doomsmiths].

Then, you had me, who got offered by Valter to join him, but instead willingly chose to enter an organization for the freedom and, more importantly, the resources it offered. Without taxes to pay and a crazy mage at its head, there were many benefits to abandonning morals in this world.

Back on my reputation, I was very reputable. The Doomsmiths had risen from a second-rate gang to an underground organization that had, with Dawn's downfall, risen as the main underground organization of district 77. Such a feat was very rare in the lower districts, as the competition was fierce and local guilds being very aggressive on rising gangs.

However, we had just won the war, and half of the merit could be attributed to my team's inhuman dungeon training. Unlike regular NPCs, the more I fought, the more EXP I gained, the stronger I would become. Nobody knew my age, thankfully, and my bigger frame made people think I was some old soldier veteran.

However, I was just 15, which was unheard of for a D-rank officer in some large underground organizations.

Behind me, there was Leon, my faithful gunner and right hand. He was a reliable D-rank gunner.

As for the rest, they were all E-rank warriors I had personally mentored. Although they were pretty weak, E-rank warriors were very rare in the lower districts, and unlike me, they could only get stronger after years of training. These guys were the best of the best, and I had not just one of them, but 8 of them, making us one of the strongest force in the lower districts.

Not even mercs had this kind of firepower.

Leon used to be part of Dawn, but I managed to convince him to join the Doomsmiths. For a long time, he worked as a double agent, myself as the only anchor point for the doomsmiths, and he proved his loyalty and worth by helping me kill Valter and take over district 77.

Why would he do that?

Well, humans are simple.

I just gave him enough money so that he could not refuse.

Just like I had joined the Doomsmiths for what it offered, Leon was the same as me. Human scums driven by greed and power.

After contemplating for a while, I muttered to my subordinates: "Let's loot this place and get the hell out"

We were still in the headquarters of [Dawn].

Though the police could arrive at any moments, I would not waste any credit on my path. Sword equipment, manuals...even declarations of taxes might be of some worth on the black market. I would leave the troublesome retail selling to Leon anyway...