Asher discovered a new problem.
He was running out of excuses.
Not excuses for the system.
Not excuses for dungeons.
Excuses for being normal.
He noticed it while carrying groceries up the stairs to his apartment—five heavy bags in each hand, climbing without stopping, without adjusting his grip, without even thinking about it.
He reached his door.
Paused.
"…That was supposed to be harder."
He set the bags down carefully, like they might accuse him if he didn't.
Inside, the apartment felt the same as always. Small. Slightly cramped. Smelled faintly like detergent and instant noodles.
Asher leaned against the counter and exhaled.
"Okay," he said. "We're officially past 'lucky improvement.'"
The familiar pressure behind his eyes stirred.
Not urgent.
Observant.
A translucent screen unfolded.
[Status Review – Passive]
Asher squinted.
"…You don't usually do these unprompted."
[Observation]
User performance trends indicate sustained deviation from baseline.
"Baseline of what," Asher asked.
[Clarification]
F-rank physiological and cognitive thresholds.
He blinked.
"…Oh."
The screen updated.
Strength: Within expected variance
Endurance: Above expected variance
Recovery: Above expected variance
Adaptive Response: Significantly above expected variance
Asher stared at the last line.
"…That one feels like you're judging me."
[Clarification]
It is an assessment.
"Same thing."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"So what happens when I deviate too much?"
The system paused.
Long enough that Asher noticed.
[Notice]
Growth trajectory exceeds standard F-rank modeling.
His stomach tightened.
"…Exceeds how?"
The screen shifted.
[Evaluation Flag – Generated]
Status: Pending
Category: Rank Stability
Asher froze.
"…That sounds important."
[Affirmation.]
"Important like 'good job,' or important like 'paperwork'?"
[Clarification]
Both.
He groaned and sank onto the couch.
"Of course it's paperwork."
He stared at the ceiling.
"…So I'm not ranking up yet."
[Correction]
Rank advancement is not currently authorized.
Asher nodded slowly.
"…But."
The system waited.
Asher smirked faintly.
"…There's a 'but.'"
[Supplemental Information]
Prerequisites for evaluation are forming.
His heart kicked.
"Forming how?"
[Clarification]
User has not yet demonstrated sufficient stability under expanded variables.
"…Expanded variables," Asher repeated. "That's a fancy way of saying 'more chaos.'"
[Affirmation.]
"Fantastic."
He closed his eyes for a second, letting it sink in.
This wasn't a denial.
It wasn't a no.
It was a not yet.
"…So what do you need," Asher asked quietly. "From me."
The system responded immediately this time.
[Criteria – Preliminary]
• Consistent performance under varied dungeon conditions
• Sustained decision-making under conflicting directives
• Maintenance of external-life stability
• Continued integration without overload
Asher opened one eye.
"…You're grading my social life."
[Correction]
I am evaluating systemic risk.
"Which includes my social life."
[Affirmation.]
He laughed softly.
"Unbelievable."
He sat up and stretched, feeling the familiar ready tension in his muscles.
Not restless.
Prepared.
"So if I keep doing what I'm doing," he said, "I eventually… qualify."
[Correct.]
"And if I mess up?"
[Clarification]
Evaluation will reset.
"…Ouch."
He leaned back.
"But no punishment," he added. "No regression."
[Affirmation.]
Asher nodded.
"…Good."
The screen dimmed, but didn't disappear.
One last line appeared.
[Notice]
Current rank designation no longer reflects user capability.
Classification retained for systemic compatibility.
Asher stared at that.
"…So I'm officially mislabeled."
[Affirmation.]
He grinned.
"I've always wanted to be underestimated."
The screen finally faded.
The apartment felt quiet again.
Asher stood, grabbed his groceries, and started putting them away.
Cereal.
Milk.
Instant noodles.
Normal things.
Outside, the city moved on. Cars passed. Lights flickered. People lived their lives unaware that Asher Black was quietly outgrowing the box the world had put him in.
He paused, leaning against the counter.
"…You know," he said to the empty room, "for a system that loves efficiency, you're being very patient."
No response.
Which meant—
It agreed.
Asher smiled to himself.
"Alright," he said. "I'll play your game."
He glanced toward the faint pull of the dungeon.
Not eager.
Not afraid.
Just… ready.
"Slow and steady," he murmured. "Let's see how long I can stay invisible."
Somewhere deep inside Heaven's Heart, the calculation updated.
And for the first time—
The system didn't rush him.