Here's your scene rewritten with a realistic tone, sharper flow, and a mix of humor + sarcasm:
After the spirit awakening, the village training coach got busy again.
New kids. Same routine. Same speeches.
All of them under six, all waiting for their turn to awaken something that may or may not change their lives.
As for me?
I unofficially graduated… straight into the mountains.
At first, people didn't pay much attention. A kid wandering near the forest wasn't new.
But then I started coming back with meat.
Not once. Not twice. Consistently.
That's when the looks began.
You know that look people give when a stray dog suddenly starts acting like it owns the street?
Yeah. That one.
Some of them stared like I'd grown a second head. Others looked at me like I'd robbed luck itself. A few just watched quietly, trying to figure me out.
Honestly… it was a little uncomfortable.
Not scary. Just… annoying.
Like being watched while eating.
But this was a village. People had their own problems. Curiosity fades fast when survival takes priority.
So in the end, everyone went back to minding their own business.
Good for them. Better for me.
The village chief came to see me twice.
The first time, he didn't say much. Just stood there, looking at me — probably checking if I was still alive or had already become mountain fertilizer.
I didn't ask. He didn't explain.
Fair exchange.
The second time, he got straight to the point.
"Three months are almost over. Next week, you'll leave for Nuoding City."
Simple. Direct. No extra words.
That was his style.
To be honest… I had completely lost track of time.
My routine didn't change.
Wake up. Go to the mountain. Hunt. Avoid things that could kill me. Occasionally fail. Occasionally succeed. Come back. Rest. Repeat.
No weekends. No holidays. No motivational speeches.
Just survival.
Life became so repetitive that even my brain gave up trying to count days.
Honestly, I'm grateful for my "dead brain cells."
If I had overthought everything, I probably wouldn't have lasted a week.
But something did change.
Slowly. Quietly. Without asking for permission.
After three months…
Even I had to pause and take a second look.
I had grown taller — noticeably.
My body wasn't bulky, but it was tight. Efficient. Built for movement, not show.
My skin had turned rough, carrying a light bronze shade from constant sun exposure. Small scars here and there — nothing dramatic, just proof that the mountain doesn't give free lessons.
Black hair. Black eyes.
My face sharpened over time — jawline clearer, posture straighter.
Not handsome in a noble way.
More like… someone you wouldn't casually mess with.
And my eyes—
That was the biggest change.
Calm. Focused.
The kind that doesn't panic easily.
The kind that watches before it moves.
Somewhere along the way…
I stopped being a village kid who went hunting.
And became something closer to a small predator.
Not the strongest.
Not the fastest.
But aware.
Sharp.
And very hard to catch off guard.
If this were an anime, this would be the part where people gasp and say, "He changed so much!"
In reality?
Most villagers just nodded and thought:
"Yeah… mountain life does that."