"Frank Hagan, Trader Class. Requesting rank evaluation."
Frank's voice was calm as he handed over the digital form.
The receptionist barely looked up. "Solo submission?"
"F-Rank to E-Rank," he confirmed. "Cleared two dungeons. One solo. Logs attached."
She slid a data tab into her terminal, eyes flicking back and forth. "No guild affiliation. No bonded healer. No booster potions registered."
Frank gave a small smile. "That's correct."
She looked up at him for a few seconds then back at her terminal.
"Noted." She pressed a button under the desk. "Evaluation room three. Physical and magical assessments first. Don't bleed on the floor."
Frank raised an eyebrow. "I'll do my best."
>Association Evaluation Hall – Room 3<
The room was empty save for a glowing platform in the center and two observers behind an enchanted glass wall. One wore standard robes; the other had the stiff shoulders of a combat examiner.
"Please step onto the platform," said a disembodied voice. "Initiating baseline scan."
Frank exhaled and stepped forward. Blue lines traced over his body. The system chimed softly.
> [Vitality: +14% since last log]
[Agility: +11%]
[Cognitive Reflexes: Tier-1 Compatible]
[Registered Class: Trader | Subset: Tactical Logistician]
"Growth is consistent," the robed one murmured. "But those stats aren't definitely from crafting."
The combat examiner tapped a rune. "Let's see how well he fights."
A wall opened, revealing a Tier I combat golem, sleek, steel-framed, with a mana-core pulsing faintly at its center. It stepped forward, weaponless but fast.
"Trader," the examiner's voice came through, "you may begin your demonstration. Timer starts… now."
Frank didn't move.
The golem charged.
He sidestepped smoothly, drew his shortblade, and ducked under the first punch. His motion was clean and efficient. He jabbed the golem's core with the flat of his blade and rolled behind it.
The glass flashed as one examiner leaned in. "That footwork, he's using Piercing Fang stances."
"Reinforced, too. His perception's keeping up."
The golem twisted with a backhand. Frank blocked with a snap-shield from his gear belt. It flared blue and held just long enough for him to pivot and tap the golem's leg joint.
The rune there sparked.
He'd planted a glyph spike mid-motion. It exploded, sending the golem off balance.
Frank stepped back, shortblade at the ready.
The system chimed.
> [Golem disabled – Combat efficiency rating: 84%]
Behind the glass, the robed examiner whistled. "That's E-Rank performance. Minimum."
"He held back," the combat examiner muttered. "He didn't even draw on magic. Just planning and execution."
"Typical trader," the robed one said. "Scary when they stop running numbers and start running fights."
Frank stood quietly, breathing steady.
The glass partition opened. The robed evaluator stepped out, holding a system tablet.
"Frank Hagan," she said, "effective immediately, you are promoted to E-Rank."
He nodded. "Thank you."
"You've got eyes on you now. You planning to join a guild?"
"No." He turned, adjusting his cloak. "I'm planning to expand."
The Tier-2 Market Gateway shimmered like liquid mercury, stretching across the stone arch ahead of him. Guards stood at either side, standard regulation for restricted-access realms.
Frank showed his newly updated ID tag.
The rune scanner flared.
[Verification: E-Rank | Trader Access: Approved]
The guard looked mildly surprised. "Didn't take you for a combat trader."
Frank stepped through the gate. "Most people don't."
The transition was instant and overwhelming.
The Nexus bustled like a bazaar stitched together from a dozen worlds. Dimensional traders barked offers in three different languages. Floating carts hummed between iron pillars. Smells of spices, steel, and ozone mingled in the air.
Frank's system pinged.
> [Welcome to Hollowtrade Nexus]
[Trader Tier: E-Class – Limited Access Active]
[Warning: Some stock may exceed your current license]
"Good to know," Frank muttered. "No touching cursed blades or anti-dragon mines."
He kept his pace measured. No staring. No wide eyes.
He passed a stall selling rune-inscribed hunter gloves, built with flexible mana thread. Another vendor was showcasing signal-reflecting cloaks, perfect for stealth-focused rogues and scouts.
Frank paused at a small booth half-hidden in shadow.
The merchant, a wrinkled man with only one eye and six rings on each finger lifted a brow. "First-timer?"
"Looking for scrolls," Frank said.
The man pointed. "Left shelf. Limited stock. No refunds."
Frank scanned the tags quickly.
[Scroll: Shadowmark – Tracks last magical disturbance]
[Scroll: Flickerstep – Teleport 3 meters, single-use]
[Scroll: Nullsigil – Suppresses detection for 30 seconds]
All within budget. He picked three of each, confirming the order with a soft tap.
[Purchase Complete. Inventory Updated.]
He moved on, glancing at materials, pouches, and compact travel gear. His brain was already dividing the finds by user type.
Hunters: Trackers, traps, movement tools.
Support Scouts: Signal glyphs, rescue kits, safehouse markers.
Combat Rogues: Cloaks, boots, low-tier nullfields.
He pulled up his terminal mid-walk, tapping into his online shop's backend.
"Alright," he muttered, "let's build this clean."
> Category Added: Field Survival
Category Added: Escape & Evasion Tools
Category Added: Urban Stealth Kits (Tier 2 Licensed)
Sublist: Dimensional Scrolls (One-Time Use)
He began writing brief, honest descriptions as he walked.
> Shadowmark – For when you know someone was here, but you need proof. Single trigger. Don't waste it.
Flickerstep – Three meters may not sound like much… until a sword's already coming for your throat.
Then he set the prices, fair, competitive, no luxury markup. Traders didn't sell hope. They sold options.
Another ping blinked across his screen.
[New Visitor: Guild Quartermaster – Browsing]
Frank's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Traffic's up already."
Frank leaned against a rusted steel beam outside the Hollowtrade Nexus, sipping a lukewarm nutrient pack and watching the world move.
Behind him, the chaos continued, traders haggling, adventurers laughing, mages arguing over rune charges. The rhythm of the Nexus beat on like a machine made of ambition and noise.
Frank tapped open his system again. The numbers stared back, bright and steady.
> [Inventory Stable]
[Sales: Moderate Surge]
[Client Reviews: +17 | 4.8★]
[E-Rank Status: Confirmed]
"Making money, getting praised, and it still... feels like I'm parked in neutral," he muttered, rubbing his jaw.
He checked his weapon seals. Checked his belt loops. Then his exit marker tab. Again.
Nothing needed fixing.
But he still wasn't moving.
Frank exhaled and whispered, "What are you waiting for, a hand-written invitation from destiny?"
"Not quite, I won't say I'm destiny but close," a voice called from nearby.
Frank looked up.
Two figures approached with the kind of stride that said experienced, confident, not interested in wasting time. One was broad-shouldered, greatsword strapped across his back like it weighed nothing. The other was lean, all clean lines and efficient movement, her daggers curved like questions that didn't need asking.
"Frank Hagan?" the man said, offering a nod.
"Who's asking?" Frank asked, straightening.
"Hazen. E-Rank clearance team. That's Lira," he added, jerking a thumb toward the woman. "We've got a slot open."
Lira tilted her head. "He's smaller than I expected."
Frank blinked. "You expecting someone taller to sell signal glyphs and potions?"
She smiled. "Just checking if the quiet trader's as quick with his mouth as with his gear."
Frank narrowed his eyes. "You buying or recruiting?"
"Both, maybe," Hazen said. "We've seen the way you move. Blackmouth Labyrinth's on our docket. E-Rank, partial map, three confirmed beast clusters. We're not looking for a mascot. We want someone who thinks."
"And doesn't panic when the walls start breathing," Lira added.
Frank crossed his arms. "Why not bring another frontliner?"
"We've got muscle," Hazen said. "We need insight. Someone who sees ambushes before they trigger. Someone who uses the terrain. Someone who brings more than steel."
Frank raised a brow. "Sounds like you want someone disposable."
"No," Hazen said with a shrug. "We want someone adaptable. Which is rarer."
Lira added, "And if you slow us down, we leave you behind and you'll die. Fair?"
"Die, is a strong word. "
"Fair or not?" She insisted.
Frank paused. "Fair."
They turned to walk away then Hazen called over his shoulder, "Gate opens in ten. Room 6. Show up, and we'll know you're in."
Frank didn't move right away.
He just stood there, watching the crowd shift. Letting the silence press in.
He stared down at his gloves. The ones he'd reforged twice. At the edge of his cloak, stitched with stealth fabric that had already saved his life more than once.
And then he spoke to no one in particular.
"Am I really doing this?"
His own voice answered. "Yeah, you are."
He let the silence answer for a beat longer, then chuckled. "You just got your shop stabilized. You could rest, you know. Ride the wave. Take a break."
Another beat.
"Yeah… but resting doesn't get you remembered. It won't make you a legend."
He opened his system and stared at the join request still glowing on the screen.
[Join Request: Team Hazen | Verified Expedition – Blackmouth Labyrinth | Slot Secured]
He stared at it.
Then muttered under his breath, "Alright, Hagan. You've sold a hundred kits. Time to show the field what you're made of."
He tapped ACCEPT, the sound sharp and final.