CHAPTER 15: LEVEL UP

I didn’t return home.

Instead, I walked straight to the private training facility — the same one where I’d been practicing with my shotgun. My hands were shaking, not from fear, but from anger that refused to fade.

That damn woman ruined everything.

Things had finally started to quiet down — the glares, the whispers, the judging eyes. I had kept my head low, avoided trouble, done nothing. But now? One confrontation and everything would flare back up again.

The eldest daughter of House Arlon — and I had just called her a bitch in front of half the academy.

Perfect.

Rumors spread like wildfire here. By morning, the entire noble circle would be buzzing with it.

And soon enough, word would reach Count Ashborne.

Great. Another lecture. Or maybe disownment 2.0.

The more I thought about it, the tighter my grip on the shotgun became.

I shouldered it, thumbed the action, and fired.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

The crisp cracks echoed through the soundproof room as the shells slammed into the practice dummy, tearing through the thick mana-treated hide. Each shot punched through the center, and I didn’t stop until the dummy was nothing but shredded fragments.

By the time I exhaled, my breathing had steadied.

I sat down, back against the wall, and sighed.

"What’s done is done..."

Lingering on it wouldn’t fix anything.

I called up my status window.

*****

Name: Lucien Ashborne

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Affiliation:

Imperial Academy / House Ashborne

Stats:

Strength: 7

Agility: 4

Endurance: 7

Intelligence: 12

Mana: 4

Charm: 63

Skills:

Mana Control Lv. 5 ↑

Horse Riding Lv. 3 ↑

Basic Etiquette Lv. 4

Intimidation Lv. 3 ↑

Cooking Lv. 7 ↑

Marksmanship Lv. 1 ↑

Detection Lv. 1 ↑

Points: 1200

*****

"Hm—my stats went up a little," I muttered, scrolling through the numbers. "Still weak though."

The mana stat hadn’t moved an inch. Not that it bothered me — I already knew one method to fix that later.

What caught my eye was the 1200 points sitting there.

"Alright... let’s see how far I can push this."

I focused on Marksmanship first.

Level 1 → 2 → 3 → 4 → 5 → 6.

The cost climbed each time, but I didn’t hesitate. Eight hundred points gone in an instant.

Then I poured the remaining four hundred into Detection.

*****

[Skill Upgrades Applied]

Marksmanship Lv. 6: Greatly improves accuracy with projectile weapons, recoil management, and quick target acquisition. Handling a one-handed shotgun feels intuitive; follow-through and stance stabilize automatically under stress.

Detection Lv. 5: Enhances spatial awareness and target tracking. Capable of detecting and magnifying distant targets and motion signatures up to 500 meters; provides subtle predictive lines for projectile trajectories.

*****

I stood and shouldered the shotgun again, feeling the weight settle differently.

The difference was immediate.

The weapon felt alive in my hand, like an extension of my body. Every movement — racking the action, ejecting a spent shell, sliding a fresh one into the chamber — was precise and smooth. Reloading no longer felt clumsy; the shells clicked into place with mechanical surety.

When I fired again, the shots landed with uncanny precision.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Each shell punched through the bullseye, dead center — almost effortless. I didn’t have to aim in the old way; my body and the weapon moved together, instincts and training fusing into one guided motion.

I switched on Detection, and my perception sharpened. The range ahead of me overlaid faint arcs and trajectories, showing where each shot would travel and where minor shifts in wind or distance might affect it.

Combining both skills felt like slipping into a flow state.

I fired six rounds in rapid succession — BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG — and every one hit where I intended.

I lowered the shotgun and smiled faintly. "This... is getting fun."

But as the thrill faded, an old irritation returned.

If reaching level six produced this much improvement... what would level ten feel like?

And then I remembered Kael and his group — their skills averaged around seven or eight. Some of Kael’s abilities were even maxed.

I clenched my fist.

"Unfair bastards."

They were gifted, favored by fate or whatever the plot handed them. And here I was, bleeding money and effort just to get near their baseline.

Still... I couldn’t stop now.

If they had talent, I had something else — a system that let me break the rules.

*****

By the time I finished my training, night had already fallen. My arms were sore, and the faint smell of gunpowder still lingered in my clothes. I slung the shotgun over my shoulder and started heading home.

The road was dimly lit by floating glowstones, the faint hum of mana resonating in the quiet air. My mind wandered as I walked.

"...Tomorrow’s lunch."

I’d promised Ariana I’d bring something new.

After today’s mess, I needed something to clear my mood — and cooking always did that for me.

Pizza came to mind first, but I dismissed it just as quickly.

"Too time-consuming," I muttered.

Pasta?

No. I didn’t have cream or proper cheese for that.

Noodles were tempting. Easy to make, quick to fry... but it didn’t feel right for tomorrow. Too ordinary. Too safe.

Then it hit me.

"...Tacos."

I stopped walking for a moment, a grin spreading across my face.

"Yeah, tacos will do nicely."

Crispy on the outside, savory and colorful inside — easy to eat, easy to carry, and something no one here had ever tasted before. Ariana would love it.

With that decided, I changed direction toward the evening market. The stalls were still open, lamps glowing softly, vendors calling out half-heartedly to the last-minute buyers.

I mentally went over my inventory.

I already had flour and salt at home — no need to buy that.

What I needed was filling.

"Meat..." I murmured, scanning the butcher’s stand. "Something light."

The stall owner, a middle-aged man with a thick beard, grunted as he chopped through slabs of meat from what looked like a mutated deer.

"How much for hare meat?" I asked.

He looked up, sizing me up for a second. "Horned hare or plain?"

"Plain’s fine."

"70 copper coins for a full cut."

"Deal."

Hare meat was perfect — light, tender, a bit like chicken but juicier when cooked properly. It’d fit the flavor I wanted.

Next stop — vegetables.

I passed a few roadside vendors displaying vibrant produce. Even though this was a different world, the vegetables were surprisingly similar. The only difference was their mana enrichment. They were larger, glossier, and packed with stronger flavor.

I examined a few crates.

Cabbage — crisp, with a faint tang when shredded.

Tomatoes — faintly glowing, juicy, and bright red like jewels.

Onions — slightly sweet, with a soft aroma that reminded me of home.

I picked up enough for two days’ worth of meals and handed over a few copper coins.

The vendor smiled. "For a noble, you sure do your own shopping, huh?"

I smirked. "That’s because I actually eat what I buy."

After that, I made one last stop.

The old man’s pawn shop.

The bell above the door chimed as I entered, and his wrinkled face appeared from behind the counter, that familiar grin spreading across it.

"Well, well. The young master’s back. Run out already?"

"Yeah. Need a refill." I tossed a small pouch of coins onto the counter. "Five hundred rounds."

His eyebrows shot up. "Five hundred?"

He let out a wheezing laugh. "You’re either mad or rich. Maybe both."

"I prefer efficient."

He packed up the bullets — all properly stored in small cases. Then, perhaps seeing me as his personal goldmine, he handed me a small leather pouch.

"Here, a little bonus. A mini spatial pouch — nothing big, but enough to hold your ammo. Consider it a loyalty gift."

I raised an eyebrow. "Free?"

He grinned. "Let’s call it an investment. I have a hunch you will be my long-term customer."

After paying — five gold coins lighter — I tucked the pouch into my belt and stepped back into the street. The night breeze was cool against my face, carrying the faint scent of roasting meat and spices from nearby stalls.

My mood had lightened.

Tomorrow’s lunch was sorted.

The ingredients were ready.