Chapter 10: The Arsenal of an Extraordinary Nobody

We walked in a loose formation. Zane had recovered, rubbing his side. “According to the Association bulletin,” he said, his voice back to its normal, optimistic timbre, “the dominant monster type today should be Goblins. Common Forest Stinkers. I know you’ve probably hunted a million of them, but it’s always good to be a little more careful in a group. Coordination!”

I had, in fact, hunted exactly zero goblins. My specialty was solo slime evasion. But I just nodded.

Lindis, walking beside me, cleared her throat. “Since we’re here as a team… and because you saw the absolute worst of my capabilities yesterday…” She trailed off, slightly embarrassed. “Why don’t we share some of our skills? Better understanding leads to better teamwork when things get chaotic.”

Ah. The dreaded Team-Building Exercise. My personal seventh circle of hell.

“On that particular subject,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets, “I think I’ll pass. My skills are… nebulous. Best left to the imagination. Like a mystery flavor.”

“He’s no fun,” Lindis muttered, but she pressed on. “It’s embarrassing to admit this, but I have a passive ability for combat called Stone Skin. The more I fight and… uh… endure… the tougher it gets.”

I nodded, slipping into the role of the armchair analyst. It was safer than revealing anything real. “I understand the principle. Passive abilities often scale with usage and damage sustained. You essentially need to tank hits to level up your skin’s rock-paper-scissors game against the world. A high-risk, high-reward grind.”

She looked at me, surprised. “Yeah. That’s… a very clinical way of putting it.”

Before she could probe further, two Sewer-Slimes detached from the moist ceiling with wet plops. One dropped directly in front of Lindis; the other splatted near Kaela.

Lindis didn’t even break stride. With a grunt of mild annoyance, she swung the flat, hammer-like backside of her giant axe in a short, downward arc.

THWUMP.

At the same moment, Zane casually backhanded his mace in a wide, lazy arc.

SPLORTCH.

The two slimes were pulverized instantly, dissipating into green mist.

Lindis hefted her axe onto her shoulder. “See?” she said, a hint of pride in her voice. “Better.”

I stared at the two wet spots on the ground, then back at their expectant faces. They were waiting for me to contribute something. Anything. I sighed deeply.

...

The next hour was the most psychologically taxing experience of my life, surpassing even the time I accidentally ate Mia’s “experimental” kimchi.

It wasn’t the goblins. The “Common Forest Stinkers” were pathetically weak. No, the real monsters were the three pairs of eyes laser-locked onto my back.

Every time I dodged a clumsy spear thrust, I’d glance sideways and see Lindis watching me, her head slightly tilted. Every time I weaved past a slime drip, Zane’s gaze would follow my movement in intense, comical concentration. Every time I merely existed in the general vicinity of combat, Kaela’s sharp eyes would flick over to me.

All. Eyes. On. Me.

Finally, after clearing a small nest of goblins, we had a moment of reprieve in a slightly drier chamber. I stopped, turned to face my three-person audience, and crossed my arms.

“Alright,” I said, my voice flat. “Can I ask a question? A serious one. Do you… need something from me? Because it feels like I owe each of you a billion won and you’re waiting for me to pull it out of my… slightly dissolved pants.”

Lindis immediately started scratching the back of her head, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. Zane burst out laughing.

“Sorry!” Zane wheezed. “It’s just… I really want to know your abilities! You move so… weirdly! It’s fascinating!”

Lindis nodded. “You’re just so… closed off. We shared! It’s only fair!”

I let out a sigh that came from the very depths of my soul. Fine. If they wanted to know my “abilities,” I’d give them the most spectacularly, gloriously useless set of powers ever conceived.

“Okay,” I said, holding up three fingers. “You win. I have three passive abilities.”

I took a dramatic step back, then performed a small, utterly unimpressive vertical hop, tapping the damp ceiling with my fingertips. “Passive Ability One: Slightly Above-Average Vertical Leap. Useful for… reaching high shelves. And confusing goblins, apparently.”

Lindis’s eyes widened. Zane’s smile became fixed.

I flexed my hand, gripping the hilt of my collapsible baton with exaggerated force. “Passive Ability Two: Three Times Grip Strength. It ensures my weapon never flies out of my hand. Also fantastic for opening stubborn jars of kimchi.”

Zane’s eyebrow twitched.

I pointed to my own eyes. “And Passive Ability Three: Low-Light Vision. I can see in the dark. Well enough to never trip over my own shoes, or to find the bathroom at night without waking up my sister. Any questions?”

There was a long, echoing silence.

Lindis blinked slowly. “Wow… that’s… some useful abilities you got.”

I stared at her. Is she being sarcastic right in front of me? I decided I liked this better. Let them think I was a harmless weirdo with utility-passives. It was a masterpiece of misdirection. Telling the truth, but only the most boring parts of it. Revealing the rest—the soul-stealing, the stacked stats—was a catastrophic bad omen.

Zane clapped his hands together loudly. "Right! Useful! Shelf-reaching! Very... practical! Okay, team! Let's push forward! I think I smell more Goblin ahead!" He lumbered off down the tunnel, Kaela slipping into the shadows after him.

That left me and Lindis. She was still staring at the spot on the wall I'd tapped.

"Low-Light Vision, huh?" she finally said.

"Yep. For finding keys and saving phone battery."

She shook her head with a bewildered smile. "You are the weirdest E-Ranker I have ever met. Your grip strength, though... crushing that pipe yesterday wasn't nothing."

"It was a very rusty, thin pipe," I countered quickly. "Probably made of foil."

"Right," she said, not sounding convinced. "Foil."

She turned and walked away. I sighed and hurried to catch up. Up ahead, Zane stopped at a junction, sniffing the air.

"So," he announced with a grin. "Left tunnel smells like goblin and moldy cheese. Right tunnel smells like... more goblin, but with a hint of... wet dog? Team decision! Which way to our next thrilling adventure in minor monster disposal?"

---

Author’s Notes:

WE MADE IT! 🥳

Double digits, baby! We’ve officially hit Chapter 10! I want to give a massive shout-out to all of you for your dedication to Ethan’s struggle. Whether you're here for the action, the sibling dynamics, or just to see how many more 'useless' skills Ethan can invent on the fly, thank you for riding along!

Honestly, watching Ethan try to convince a group of seasoned hunters that his greatest superpower is 'opening stubborn jars of kimchi' is the highlight of my week. The sheer audacity of his misdirection is almost an S-Rank skill in itself.

Keep the love coming, keep adding to your collections, and let's see if Ethan can survive the 'Wet Dog' tunnel without accidentally revealing he's actually a powerhouse.

Onward to the next ten! 🚀