The Discarded Son's Skill Market

"I didn’t know Mr. Finn was looking for me," Zaid said as they began walking through the training center.

"I’m not looking for you!" Finn exclaimed. "It’s the Grand Master."

"Oh?" Zaid was genuinely interested, though he frowned. "Lord Lodrey? What does Grand Master Lodrey want with me?"

"He’d like to formally invite you to join the department. He asked me to look for you several days ago, but it’s only now that I see you that I remember."

"That’s not very obedient of him, Mr. Finn. He could have messaged me through the app."

"I’m not interested in talking to men."

"Me neither." Zaid shrugged. "But sometimes it’s necessary, like right now when you’re doing it."

"I’m just here to warn you about something."

Zaid glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "I’m all ears."

"You’ll die if you stay in the mercenary guild. This isn’t a place for talentless little kids like you to be hanging around. You’re only Rank F, right? At your age, you should already be at least Rank E just to survive, so you should quit."

Zaid remained silent. His words struck a chord deep within his heart—a chord that told him Finn was actually right.

Throughout his life, words of contempt had become the norm to his ears. Mockery, scorn, and slander had always surrounded him. He had grown so accustomed to it all that hearing them now meant nothing to him.

Because they were right.

He was weak. Too weak. To the point that anyone could look down on him—even F-Ranks.

He was a little stronger than most F-Ranks, but didn’t he have to hide behind a mask precisely because of his weakness? Didn’t he have to grit his teeth in the face of mockery, simply because revealing his strength would kill him?

And if one day he decided to unleash his power, what could he possibly do, being a pathetic Rank F? Who could he possibly defeat? A Rank E, at best?

He clenched his jaw silently.

"Well?" asked Zaid, seemingly unfazed. "From what I can see, you’re just jealous of the attention Lord Lodrey is giving me. Am I not talented? I think I know that better than anyone. Aren’t there plenty of Rank Fs out there? They make up the majority of the guild, and they’re right there."

Finn shook his head. "I’m not jealous of you. If anything, I hate you."

"Hate?" Zaid’s eyebrows shot up.

"Yes. I hate weakness," Finn stated confidently, staring intently at him.

Alice was walking a few steps behind them, so she couldn’t hear them, but he lowered his voice even further.

"The F-Rankers out there aren’t constantly venturing into hunting grounds, let alone attracting the attention and interest of a department. Much less that of the Grand Master."

"That means I’m not just any old F-Ranker."

"You’re just as weak as all the F-Ranks, and you can’t even level up quickly. Who are you trying to fool?" Finn looked at Alice walking behind him and clenched his fists. "I think the only person you could fool is a beautiful, innocent young lady like her."

Finn was frank and straightforward. What he said also made sense. An F-Rank in the mercenary guild only carried out basic missions within the city. They rarely ventured outside the great walls surrounding the city.

And for those who left the city walls, how many returned? The mortality rate among the F-Ranks who hunted continuously was enormous. There was no exact figure, since many of the F-Ranks who left were not confirmed dead but were listed as missing. However, it surely reached 70 or 80 percent.

Zaid understood that he was speaking from experience. He himself had come to view F-Ranks as cannon fodder, and he still does. They serve no purpose among hunters other than to clear very low-rank portals that might appear in inhabited areas.

In a way, he could understand what he was saying. And he also sensed that, even though Finn was giving him the cold shoulder the whole time, Finn was actually worried about him.

"Beneath his contempt lies concern." He was a strange guy.

Zaid didn’t respond. That forced Finn to speak up again.

"...The Grand Master is a noble-hearted man who always tries to help those he considers talented. Lately, he’s been very interested in you, since you’ve shown a talent he couldn’t have predicted. So he’ll invite you to join the department."

"I don’t see a problem with that," Zaid replied.

"Honestly, I don’t see any problems for the department either." Finn shrugged. "People die every year—what difference does one more make? However, as the Department’s Emissary, I have to warn you that we have silent enemies. If you join us, you’ll die."

"So you’re worried about me? That feels kind of weird."

Finn raised his eyebrows and protested immediately: "I’m not worried about you!"

"It doesn’t seem that way." Zaid laughed.

"Tsk, damn it." Finn wanted to say something else, but he felt he’d already accomplished his mission. If they didn’t take his advice, it didn’t matter anyway.

The biggest problem with this was that he’d have to train a weak, stinking bastard. It was one thing to teach beautiful women who moved with style and grace on the battlefield but unleashed bloody carnage every time they fought—but a man? Never!

He didn’t like working with men to begin with.

"With any luck, I could talk to my teacher so they’ll give it to the other Emissaries... Although that would cost me points. The main guild will be recruiting members this year, so I need as many points as I can get..."

"Ugh, crap. That’s so annoying."

After complaining to himself, Finn could only hope that this petite, absurdly beautiful young lady was a talented dagger user... it would be better to continue surrounded by beautiful young ladies.

A little while later, Finn found one of the trainers and asked him to test Alice. His heart was in his throat, hoping to see a dagger... but it shattered the moment he saw a scepter.

However, she used the scepter to strike—something he found very strange, though he later understood when she decided to attack using martial arts... The scepter was just a distraction.

But it didn’t matter. Because she still wasn’t using daggers, and her talent didn’t seem to have anything to do with daggers.

He felt deeply disappointed.

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