Chapter 356: The Leveling Problem

Words : 1676 Updated : Oct 9th, 2025

The pancakes Sienna had made were excellent. They were fluffy, perfectly golden, with just the right amount of sweetness. Under normal circumstances, I would have savored every bite and complimented her cooking skills. But this morning, my mind was elsewhere, grappling with a problem that threatened to derail my entire enhancement strategy. I cut another piece of pancake and chewed mechanically while staring at the kitchen table, my thoughts consumed by the fundamental flaw I’d discovered in my plan. How the hell was I going to level up these resistance skills? The System’s leveling mechanics had been consistent since the first ever person received a job. Time and practice were the primary factors in skill advancement, with the requirements increasing exponentially at each level. I could still remember the breakdown from my time as a construction worker: Level 1 to 2? A few hours of consistent use. Level 2 to 3? At least a week. Level 3 to 4? Two weeks. Level 4 to 5? A month. Level 5 to 6? Half a year. Level 6 to 7? A full year. The pattern was clear and unforgiving. Higher levels required increasingly massive time investments, which worked fine for normal skills. If I wanted to improve a skill like Strategic Planning, I could spend months analyzing complex scenarios and developing tactical solutions. If I wanted to enhance my leadership skills, I could practice managing teams and making difficult decisions over extended periods. But how do you practice Poison Resistance for a week straight without dying? I took another bite of pancake, barely tasting it as I worked through the reality of my situation. To level Poison Resistance from 1 to 2, I’d need to maintain exposure to toxins for several hours continuously. That meant either consuming alcohol at dangerous levels for an extended period, or finding other poisons to experiment with—none of which seemed compatible with survival. Pain Resistance had the same problem. To advance it, I’d presumably need to maintain extreme levels of physical damage for hours at a time. The kind of systematic self-destruction that would leave permanent injuries or kill me outright. Normally, I could accelerate the leveling process through other means. Copy let me instantly acquire skills from other people at half their original level. Absorb at the original level and Destroy would straight up let me steal their skill from them. But I was absolutely, without question, the only person in the world who possessed these resistance skills. There was nobody to copy from, nobody to absorb from or even destroy. These abilities existed only because I, someone with the Jobmaster job title, had been reckless enough to push my body beyond every reasonable limit. Event Quests were another possibility. They could grant new skills or massively level up current ones. But those appeared randomly and unpredictably. I had no way to trigger them on demand, and even if one appeared, there was no guarantee it would target the specific skills I needed to develop. Job Merger was my final option, and probably the most promising under normal circumstances. When I combined different job titles, their associated skills would merge and average their levels. If I had a Level 5 skill and combined it with a Level 1 skill of similar type, the result would be a Level 3 merged skill. But that required having compatible skills to merge in the first place. Pain Resistance and Poison Resistance weren’t associated with any specific job—they were anomalous abilities that existed outside the normal System framework. The same was true for many of the skills I’d copied from Alexis over the last few days. They were powerful and useful, but they couldn’t be merged because they weren’t tied to a job that I had. I was stuck. I’d made incredible progress by acquiring these resistance skills, but I’d hit a wall that might be insurmountable through conventional means. Which left unconventional means. The quality-over-quantity approach was theoretically possible. Instead of gradual, sustained exposure to toxins or pain, I could attempt massive, acute doses that pushed far beyond what I’d already endured. My theory was that extreme experiences might trigger larger skill jumps, compressing weeks or months of gradual progression into single catastrophic events. But that was pure speculation based on nothing more than desperate hope. And the risks were exponentially higher. If I miscalculated the dosage, if I pushed just a little too far, I wouldn’t get a skill level—I’d get a funeral. Across the table, Alexis was slowly working her way through her own breakfast, occasionally glancing in my direction with the focused attention of someone monitoring a patient’s condition. Evelyn sat beside her, eating carefully with her blindfold in place, navigating her meal through enhanced spatial awareness and muscle memory. Camille was still in bed, which wasn’t unusual for her. "You’re being awfully quiet this morning," Sienna observed, settling into the chair across from me with her own plate. "How’s the ankle feeling?" "Better," I lied automatically. "Still sore, but the rest helped." She nodded, accepting the answer without question. The ease with which she believed me made the deception feel worse somehow. These women trusted me completely, and I was systematically lying to them about activities that could easily result in my death. But what choice did I have? If they knew what I was really doing, they’d try to stop me. And I couldn’t afford to be stopped, not when the world was becoming increasingly dangerous and our enemies were growing more sophisticated. I finished my breakfast in relative silence, occasionally contributing to the casual conversation but mostly lost in my own thoughts. The leveling problem felt insurmountable, and I hadn’t even begun to consider the practical challenges of maintaining these experiments while living in close quarters with four people who cared about my wellbeing. When my plate was empty, I stood up and carried it to the sink, making sure to maintain the slight limp that supported my ankle injury story. The warm water felt good on my hands as I began washing the dish, the mundane domestic task providing a momentary distraction from more complex concerns. That’s when I noticed them. The shot glass and whiskey bottle were still sitting on the counter where I’d left them earlier, partially hidden behind the coffee maker but clearly visible to anyone who looked in that direction. My heart rate spiked as I realized how careless I’d been. The evidence of my morning’s experiment was sitting in plain sight, just waiting to be discovered. Sienna had been focused on cooking and then on my supposed injury, so she probably hadn’t noticed. But by now anyone one of them could notice it. I needed to clean this up immediately. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure the others were still occupied with their breakfast, I quickly reached for the shot glass and bottle. My movements were swift but careful, trying not to draw attention while removing the incriminating evidence. The bottle went back into the liquor cabinet, nestled among the other spirits where it belonged. The shot glass got rinsed and returned to its proper place in the glassware collection. Within seconds, all traces of my morning’s alcohol consumption had been erased. I resumed washing my plate, trying to look casual while my heart hammered against my ribs. That had been incredibly stupid. If any of them had seen the empty bottle and shot glass, they would have immediately connected it to my strange behavior and physical condition. The questions that followed would have been impossible to answer without revealing the truth about my experiments. I needed to be more careful. Much more careful. "Rey?" Alexis’s voice from behind me made me jump slightly, the plate slipping in my soapy hands before I managed to catch it. I turned around, trying to look surprised rather than guilty, and found her studying me with those sharp eyes that missed very little. This was it. She’d seen the evidence, connected the dots, and was about to confront me about what I’d been doing. The concerned expression on her face suggested she already knew I’d been lying about the extent of my injuries, and probably suspected I’d been engaging in dangerous activities. They were going to find out about everything. The extreme training session that had nearly killed me. The alcohol poisoning I’d deliberately inflicted on myself. The systematic self-destruction I was pursuing in the name of becoming invincible. They were going to be furious. Not just about the deception, but about the risks I was taking. About the fact that I was potentially throwing my life away on reckless experiments while they worried about my safety and wellbeing. Worse than anger, they might feel betrayed. I’d asked for their trust, their loyalty, their willingness to follow me into danger. And in return, I’d been lying to them about fundamental aspects of my behavior and decision-making. They might decide I wasn’t worth following anymore. That someone who would systematically deceive the people closest to him while endangering himself through stupidity wasn’t fit to lead anyone, let alone challenge the established order of the world. The thought of losing their support, their friendship, their presence in my life, was more terrifying than any physical pain I’d endured during my experiments. "Could you come to my office after breakfast?" Alexis asked, her tone professional but concerned. "I want to check on your injuries, make sure that ankle is healing properly." The relief that flooded through me was so intense I almost laughed out loud. She wasn’t confronting me about hidden evidence or dangerous experiments. She was just being a good doctor, following up on a patient’s condition. "Of course," I managed, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt. "No problem." She nodded and returned to her breakfast, apparently satisfied with my response. I turned back to the sink and finished washing my plate, trying to process the emotional whiplash of the last few minutes. Everything’s ok....I just need to calm down and stay focused.

Chapter 356: The Leveling Problem

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