The Strongest S-Ranker

Unique Gate [7]

Weeks had passed, and Zenon had thrown himself into battle after battle, entering Gates without hesitation.

After their first raid together, Darius had asked for Zenon’s number, offering to contact him whenever they needed an extra hand. It was an opportunity Zenon couldn’t refuse. Every fight, every Gate, was another step toward becoming stronger.

Darius had taken notice.

Zenon had potential—raw, untapped, but undeniable. It wasn’t just strength or speed; it was instinct. The way he moved, the way he adapted to different combat situations, made it seem as if he had been born to fight.

Darius wasn’t the type to make decisions based on gut feelings. He judged people through logic and observation. And from what he had seen, Zenon had a rare ability—combat intelligence. He adjusted to threats on the fly, never hesitating, always thinking two steps ahead.

As a Ranger, Zenon had quickly learned to maximize his role. He wasn't just scouting or watching their backs—he was actively ensuring their survival. Even Lysara, a seasoned fighter, found herself impressed.

Zenon didn’t need orders to act. He moved independently, executing precise maneuvers that allowed the team to function more efficiently inside the Gates.

He was improving.

But for Zenon, it still wasn’t enough.

The sun had long set, casting the city in the glow of neon lights. Outside the Gate, Zenon waved to the others, ready to call it a day.

"Nice raid, guys! I'm heading out," he said, stepping into a taxi.

Before the vehicle could even move, Darius called out, "Don't forget—we've got another raid next week."

Zenon gave a thumbs-up. "Got it! See you all then. Take care!"

As the taxi pulled away, he leaned against the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of light.

Despite the exhaustion settling into his muscles, his mind remained restless.

He had grown stronger, that much was certain. He was no longer just an observer in battle—he had earned his place. But was it enough?

Zenon clenched his fists.

No. Not yet.

There was still a long way to go.

As the taxi rumbled through the quiet streets, the steady hum of the engine and the rhythmic sway of the ride lulled Zenon into an unexpected slumber. His exhaustion finally caught up with him, and before he knew it, his eyes had closed.

The faint sounds of the city faded into the background. In his dreams, he was back inside a Gate, dodging attacks, striking down monsters, and pushing himself beyond his limits.

Then—

"Hey, kid. We're here."

A firm voice snapped him awake. Zenon blinked, groggy, as the taxi driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror.

“You were out cold,” the driver chuckled. “Long day?”

Zenon stretched slightly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah… something like that.”

He handed over the fare, grabbed his bag, and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Before him stood his new home.

It wasn’t anything grand—just a modest apartment, far better than the tiny space he had rented before. But unlike before, this one was earned through his own strength. Every battle, every raid, every risk he had taken had brought him here.

He took a deep breath, the cool night air filling his lungs.

Stepping inside, he locked the door behind him and dropped his bag onto the floor. His body ached, his mind was still racing, but for now, all he needed was rest.

Collapsing onto the bed, Zenon stared at the ceiling, his thoughts drifting back to the raid.

He was improving. He was growing stronger.

But it still wasn’t enough.

With that lingering thought, his exhaustion finally won, pulling him into a deep sleep.

Next day…

Guild Headquarters – Main Office

Darius stepped into the Guild’s main office, his boots clicking against the polished marble floor. The room was large yet simple—rows of bookshelves lined the walls, and at the far end, a sturdy desk sat with various documents neatly stacked on top. Behind it, sitting comfortably, was the Guild Master.

Selene Varros, A-Rank Support, and the woman who held absolute authority over their Guild. Despite her class, she was anything but weak—her presence alone commanded respect, and her strategic mind had built the Guild into one of the strongest in the city.

[ Status Window ]

Name: Selene Varros

Rank: A

Strength: 3.2

Agility: 3.1

Magic: 2.2

Battle IQ: 2.3

Defense: 2.2

“Darius,” she greeted with a small smile. “Take a seat.”

Darius nodded, settling into the chair across from her. He had been summoned unexpectedly, but considering how well their recent raids had gone, he had a feeling what this was about.

Selene folded her hands together. “I’ll be direct. The success rate of your team has been exceptional—higher than we initially projected. Your ability to manage raids and maximize efficiency has caught my attention.”

Darius remained quiet, waiting for her to continue.

“I want you to undergo leadership training.”

His brows lifted slightly. “Leadership training?”

Selene nodded. “You’ve already proven yourself as a capable raid leader, but I want you to take on a more official role. We need more leaders who can handle larger teams. If you’re willing, I want to train you to lead an advanced strike team.”

Darius considered it. It was a significant step up—not just in responsibility, but in influence within the Guild. A promotion like this would solidify his place among the elite.

But before he could give an answer, Selene continued.

“Before that,” she said, tapping a document on her desk, “there’s someone I want to ask you about.”

Darius frowned. “Who?”

Selene leaned back. “The mercenary who’s been raiding with your team recently.”

Darius immediately knew who she was talking about.

“Zenon Fernandez,” Selene continued. “I’ve read the reports. His contributions are… notable. And I trust your judgment. So tell me, Darius—do you think he’s worth recruiting into the Guild?”

Darius didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Selene raised a brow. “That confident?”

Darius leaned forward slightly. “He’s new to this, but his combat intelligence is on a different level. He adapts quickly, fights smart, and knows how to handle himself under pressure. He’s not just talented—he’s driven.”

Selene studied him for a moment before smirking. “Then bring him in.”

Darius blinked. “Just like that?”

“If you vouch for him, I’ll trust your judgment. But let’s see if he’s willing to commit to something bigger than just mercenary work.”

Darius nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”

Selene smiled, satisfied. “Good. Now, about your training…”

As the conversation shifted, one thing was certain—Zenon’s days as an independent fighter were numbered.