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Silas glanced at Angelica before quietly slipping into the changing room. He emerged moments later, now dressed in his own red gi, the soft fabric feeling familiar against his skin as he joined the row of waiting students.

"Where\'s Sensei?" Angelica asked from beside Silas, her eyes scanning the dojo in confusion.

Chapter Continue:

"I don\'t know," Silas replied, shaking his head slightly.

"He\'s never late," Angelica muttered, her brow furrowing further. "Something\'s off."

Minutes passed, yet there was still no sign of Sensei Josh. The dojo began to fill with murmurs, students exchanging puzzled glances. Some grew impatient, others anxious. Finally, as the minutes ticked away and still no instructor appeared, the conclusion seemed inevitable—there would be no class today.

One by one, the students began to disperse, leaving the dojo behind in disappointment.

"I guess that\'s that," Angelica sighed, crossing her arms. "No class today. What are you planning to do with the extra time?" she asked, turning to Silas with a casual curiosity.

Silas rubbed the back of his neck. "Not much. I\'ll probably just head back to my room, catch some sleep," he responded, the recent events and constant pressure of the system weighing on his mind.

Angelica gave him a knowing look, though her eyes glinted with an idea. "I\'m heading to the crafter\'s shop. I need to forge a weapon for the upcoming test. You want to come with me?"

"Upcoming test?" Silas echoed, raising a brow. His memory was hazy, overwhelmed by everything else that had been going on—the system, the evolution, the strange quests that had consumed his focus.

"Yeah," Angelica replied with a light shrug, "we were informed about it two weeks ago. We\'ll be sent to a mutant realm, and I\'m going to need proper gear for that. You should too."

Silas blinked, a bit taken aback. He had completely forgotten about the test, buried under the weight of the system\'s challenges. "Ah, right. I\'ve had other things on my mind," he muttered, then nodded. "Sure, I\'ll come with you."

Angelica smiled faintly, pleased by his response, and they both stepped out of the dojo into the crisp morning air. The academy\'s towering buildings cast long shadows over the narrow paths, and they made their way along one that led to the crafter\'s shop.

After several minutes of walking through the tranquil grounds, they arrived at a small wooden shop, nestled between tall, ancient trees. It had an unassuming exterior, almost camouflaged by the foliage around it. Yet the moment they stepped inside, Silas felt an entirely different atmosphere—a sense of power and craftsmanship surrounded him.

The shop was small but packed with an array of high-grade mutant weapons and armors. Blades with intricate designs, armor that seemed to hum with energy, and weapons of every size and shape adorned the walls. Each piece was a masterpiece, forged from the remnants of fierce creatures that once roamed the mutant realms.

Behind a heavy counter stood a bald-headed, wiry man, his face partially obscured by a large pair of black goggles. He was hunched over a red-hot blade, striking it repeatedly with a hammer, the rhythmic clang of metal ringing through the room.

"Good morning, sir," Angelica greeted as she approached the counter.

Without glancing up, the man continued working on the blade. "How can I help you?" he asked, his voice gruff, his focus never wavering from the weapon he was crafting.

"I\'m here to forge a weapon," Angelica said, pulling a long, gleaming black claw from her pocket and placing it on the counter in front of him. "This is a Grade 4 claw, from a Litant Mutant. I\'d like a katana forged with it."

At that, the man paused, finally looking up. He reached out and took the claw in his hands, inspecting it closely. The moment it touched his hands, his eyes widened, and he examined it with more care, tilting it under the light. After a long moment, he even brought it closer to his mouth, running his tongue along the edge.

"It\'s legit," he confirmed, still inspecting it. "Where did you get this?"

Angelica\'s expression tightened. "It was the last gift my father gave me before he disowned me," she replied, her voice cold and measured. "I\'d appreciate it if you didn\'t ask further questions."

The man looked at her for a beat longer, then nodded, putting the claw down. "I only ask because students sometimes bring in stolen mutant parts to craft weapons. If something\'s stolen, I end up taking the fall."

At first glance, the crafter had assumed Angelica was just another student—probably broke, wasting his time with some low-level mutant part. But the moment she pulled out that rare claw, he knew she wasn\'t just any student. She was someone with resources, someone who could bring him a tidy profit. His mind began calculating, scheming.

"So," Angelica interrupted his thoughts, "how much will it cost?"

The crafter rubbed his chin, his eyes darting between the claw and Angelica. After a moment of thought, he leaned forward, a sly grin spreading across his face. "1,500 tokens. That\'s the best I can do since you\'re still a student."

"1,500 tokens?!" Angelica exclaimed, her eyes widening. "I only have 900 tokens on me."

"900 tokens isn\'t enough for a Grade 3 mutant katana, let alone a Grade 4," the man replied smoothly, his voice dripping with confidence. "The price is 1,500, and that\'s final."

Frustration flashed across Angelica\'s face as she retrieved the claw and slipped it back into her pocket, clearly annoyed by the crafter\'s greed.

"Wait," Silas said quietly, stepping forward. He reached into his pouch, pulling out three Grade 2 Crazed Chimptant fangs, and laid them on the counter. "What about these fangs and 900 tokens? Will that be enough?"

The crafter eyed Silas carefully before taking the fangs in his hands. He examined them closely, turning them over in his fingers before speaking. "Grade 2 Crazed Chimptant fangs, huh? You\'d need ten of these to meet the 1,500 token mark."

"Ten?!" Angelica snapped, her face twisting in anger. "This guy\'s a thief! And he dares accuse other students of stealing!"

Silas, remaining calm, reached into his pouch again and pulled out seven more fangs. He tossed them onto the counter. "That\'s ten. Now, get to work."

The crafter stared at the pile of fangs in disbelief. For a moment, he was speechless. \'Who is this kid? How does he have so many fangs?\' he thought to himself, his eyes flicking back to Silas.

Then his gaze fell on Silas\'s pouch. It still looked heavy—clearly, the boy had more valuable items hidden away in there. The crafter\'s thoughts darkened.

\'He\'s just a student without an active skill slot. The girl might be a Grade 4, but she looks weak. Taking them both down and stealing that pouch shouldn\'t be too hard,\' he mused, a sinister smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

He hadn\'t had many customers lately, and now was his chance. These two would be the perfect targets to exploit, and he could cover his tracks to avoid any trouble with the academy.

"\'"

A/N: Shameless author asking for a gift, tickets, and power stones for motivation.

If you want a weekend mass release tomorrow vote with your Golden tickets and all. Thanks for reading, guys!