Levels

Issac began to open the test tube, a sudden urgency emanated from Mr. Ritchie. "Wait," he interjected sharply, arresting Issac's movements. The young man tilted his head inquisitively, glancing at Mr. Ritchie, whose eyes held a hint of gravity.

With a subtle gesture, Mr. Ritchie directed Issac's attention to a mechanical chair tucked away in the corner of the room, surrounded by an array of advanced medical devices and an imposing screen suspended overhead. "You might need to sit down for this one," he advised with a sense of caution.

As Issac's eyes darted nervously between the mysterious test tube and the enigmatic figure of Mr. Ritchie, his apprehension spilled out in a nervous chuckle. "This isn't going to kill me or anything, right?" he quipped, attempting to lighten the tense atmosphere. However, Mr. Ritchie remained stoically silent, his expression unchanged, only pointing resolutely at the cold, mechanical chair.

Issac shook his head, sensing that humor was lost on his supervisor. "You really have a knack for soothing people's nerves, don't you?" Issac muttered in a sarcastic tone, mustering a smile that struggled to mask his underlying tension as he reluctantly complied and settled into the chair, bracing himself for the unknown.

"Roll back your sleeve," Mr. Ritchie's voice reverberated through the room, and Issac complied, exposing his arm to the mysterious machinations that lay ahead. A surge of trepidation washed over him as Mr. Ritchie deftly attached the two wires from the machine to his skin. The screen before them flickered to life, revealing data that delved into the depths of Issac's elemental energy.

Anxiety tinged his voice as Issac questioned the necessity of the elaborate machinery. "Do we really need all this equipment?" he inquired, his hand inching toward the wires in an attempt to understand the process better. Mr. Ritchie swiftly intervened, catching Issac's hand to stop him. "Not necessary," he replied calmly, "But helpful. It allows us to delve deeper into the effects of these potions on individuals like you, and it gives you a clearer understanding of your abilities and potential."

As the tension mounted, Mr. Ritchie's faint smile remained constant as he gave the signal, "You can drink now." Issac's heart raced as he peered at the test tube once again. He then took a deep breath, gathering his resolve, and with a swift motion, he shut his eyes and swallowed the liquid within the test tube.

Mr. Ritchie's attention swiftly shifted to the screen, and he instructed Issac, urging him, "Lean back onto the chair, if you will. Brace yourself, as what's coming next might just sting a little bit."

Perplexed, Issac's eyebrows furrowed, and he began to question, "Sting? What do you mean by 'stin-"

His words abruptly halted, drowned out by an unforeseen surge of excruciating pain coursing through every fiber of his being. Involuntarily, he clamped his teeth and jaws together, desperate to contain the overwhelming sensation that seemed to engulf him in a torrent of torment. "Gah!"

Reacting swiftly to Issac's distress, Mr. Ritchie's hands firmly pressed against the heaving chest of his subject, compelling him to recline forcefully back into the chair. "Lean back. Don't attempt to fight it," Mr. Ritchie's calm yet commanding voice resonated in the tense air, "This sensation will be transitory. It'll all be over in just a few fleeting seconds."

A guttural cry of agony erupted from Issac's lips, reverberating within the confined space as his veins bulged with the tumultuous surge of pain. The normal visage of Issac now contorted in anguish, his forehead and arms etched with prominent veins, and his face flushed to an intense shade of crimson. Yet, Mr. Ritchie remained resolute, unwavering in his commitment to the task at hand, his gaze steadfastly locked on the data displayed on the illuminated screen beside him.

Despite the piercing cries that echoed through the room, Mr. Ritchie maintained his steely focus, occasionally casting glances at the writhing figure of Issac, ensuring his equilibrium on the chair was upheld with his unwavering hand upon Issac's chest.

Mr. Ritchie's voice, barely above a whisper, carried a tinge of determination as he muttered, "Just a bit more..." Gradually, like a tempest subsiding, Issac's anguished screams began to wane, the relentless pain relenting its grip on his body. As the seconds ticked by, the once-piercing cries turned into labored breaths, until finally, an eerie stillness settled upon the room, and the silence was only interrupted by Issac's heavy panting.

"Hah... Hah..." The raspy exhalations escaped from Issac's lips, his face now glistening with perspiration, as he gingerly shifted his gaze towards Mr. Ritchie, who, in return, offered a reassuring thumbs-up, a subtle nod of approval that conveyed the message, "Congratulations. You did it, Mr. Volante."

Issac's breaths came in ragged bursts as he mustered the strength to utter a potent curse at Mr. Ritchie, his voice laced with anger and exhaustion. "....Hah… Fuck… You…" he rasped between heavy breaths, unable to hold back his frustration. The intensity of his emotions was palpable, but as his voice trailed off into breathless gasps, he eased back into the confines of the chair, the cool surface providing a small measure of relief against his feverish skin. With his eyes tightly shut, he sought a momentary respite, attempting to find solace in the fleeting tranquility of darkness.

Mr. Ritchie's calm demeanor remained unperturbed, his face a canvas of tranquility, as he retorted, "In my defense, I did warn you that we would be stepping up your training." His fingers moved nimbly across the keyboard, navigating the digital interface with no effort.

"That's not... the same thing... motherfucker..." Issac's words were punctuated by labored inhales, the strain evident in his voice as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

Undeterred by Issac's verbal outburst, Mr. Ritchie maintained his stoic facade, dismissing the expletives without a flicker of emotion. "Take a look at this," He called for Issac's attention, pointing at the screen above Issac. Obliging, Issac narrowed his eyes and shifted his gaze towards the screen positioned above him.

Isaac's eyes fixated on the words displayed at the top of the screen, "Level... 20..." he muttered, his brow furrowing in perplexity. "What are... Levels?" He asked, as the idea of levels was entirely foreign to him, leaving him curious for an answer.

"You see, levels represent an algorithmic evaluation derived from the subject's energy pool," Mr. Ritchie began, his voice carrying a hint of enthusiasm as he provided an explanation to Isaac's puzzlement. "As your energy pool expands, so does your level, creating a direct correlation between your abilities and potential and this numerical value."

Issac's brows furrowed in contemplation as he expressed his skepticism, "This, uh, numerical value system... it's not something that's used in the hunter community, right?"

"No, it's not." Mr. Ritchi's response was decisive. "At least, not yet. The world of hunters still adheres to the archaic education system where aspiring hunters dedicate years to study and vie for the attention of guilds during the final year convention program. However, this unique numerical value system, delving deep into the intricacies of your abilities and untapped potential, possesses the power to revolutionize our very world."

With a tap of his pen on the screen, Mr. Ritchie emphasized, "There's still some refining to be done on this version of the application, but rest assured, it will be the key to unlocking your energy levels and shaping a tailor-made training program."

"And.. I'm level 20.." Curiosity brimming in his eyes, Issac inquired about his Level 20 status, "What does that signify? Is Level 20 considered good?"

"For a normal hunter, reaching Level 20 at this age is a highly commendable achievement." Mr. Ritchie's response came swift and resolute, his gaze unwavering, "As a point of reference, the most esteemed hunter known across the globe, Archer Onana of the United Emirates of America and Mexico (UEAA), currently stands at Level 25."

An intrigued expression crossed Issac's face as he sought clarification, "What exactly do you mean by 'normal hunter'?"

"Just what it sounds like." Mr. Ritchie replied with a calm demeanor. "A normal hunter, as in someone who hasn't resorted to using illegal enhancements to push the limits of their body," He paused for a moment, glancing at Issac before continuing, "And that excludes you, Mr. Volante."

".... I see." Issac nodded, his expression turning serious. "So it's not good enough."

"It's not, no.." Mr. Ritchie answered, his words carrying a hint of reassurance. "...But you'll get there."

Issac tilted his head, his curiosity piqued as he looked at Mr. Ritchie, who continued, "I said that Archer Onana was the best hunter 'known' to the world. But what you don't know is that there exists hunters who are far stronger and more powerful than Archer."

Issac's eagerness couldn't be contained as he inquired, ".... What's the highest level achieved by an abnormal hunter?"

"The official term is 'Universal Hunter'," Mr. Ritchie's eyes glimmered with an almost enigmatic charm as he replied, "And the answer is level 50."