Samuel'sPOV
The building was huge. I mean huge. Like, if a monster fell on it, I'm pretty sure the monster would apologize.
I adjusted the little backpack Rei forced on me. It had a bunny keychain. Pink. Fluffy. I suspect sabotage.
As I walked through the main entrance—surrounded by towering adults who stared like I'd just hatched from an alien egg—I kept my head high. I was two. And legendary.
"Hey kid, you lost?" someone asked from behind.
I didn't even turn. "No. Are you?"
Silence.
Rei followed behind, wearing sunglasses indoors like he was trying to hide from responsibility.
"Try not to vaporize anyone today, okay?" he muttered.
"No promises," I sang.
We entered the main hall. A banner stretched across the ceiling: Welcome New Hunters-in-Training!
A bunch of people in uniform waited with clipboards, scanning the crowd.
One of them—a short woman with sharp eyes and a sharper bob haircut—stormed toward us. "This isn't a daycare!"
I lifted a hand. "I'm not a baby."
"You're... a toddler."
I raised an eyebrow. "Correction. I'm your top scorer in a few minutes."
Rei coughed to hide a laugh.
She blinked, then slowly checked her clipboard. "Wait… Samuel… Valen?"
I saluted. "In the flesh."
"...You passed the aptitude test?"
"Blew it up, technically."
She just stared at me. Then at Rei. Then back at me.
"Get in line, I guess," she sighed. "God help us all."
I grinned and skipped forward.
First day. New school. Monsters to fight. Skills to learn. Possibly dramatic cafeteria showdowns.
Let the leveling up begin.
The classroom was buzzing—literally. One guy had lightning coming off his arms. Another was levitating a pen and looking way too smug about it. Everyone looked like they were in their twenties or thirties. Muscles, scars, attitude. Real pro-hunter vibes.
Then there was me.
Barely three feet tall. Bunny backpack. Sitting cross-legged on the desk because the chair swallowed me whole.
Our instructor walked in—a giant of a man with a beard that probably had its own zip code.
"Alright, quiet down. I'm Instructor Boros. Let's do a quick roll call before we begin with orientation."
He read through a list. Then paused. Eyed me.
"Samuel Valen?"
I raised my hand and gave the room my best innocent blink.
The whole class turned to stare. Whispering.
Instructor Boros cleared his throat. "Age?"
I held up two fingers. "I'm two."
Silence.
Like absolute, soul-crushing silence.
One guy in the back muttered, "What the hell kind of vitamins is that kid on?"
Another whispered, "Bro's in his second year of life and already in Hunter school…"
I nodded proudly. "I also make my own breakfast. With fire magic. Sometimes the kitchen survives."
A girl up front laughed nervously. "Is this some kind of prodigy program?"
I leaned forward with a deep, serious voice that didn't match my face at all. "No. I'm here because I passed the aptitude test. Fair and square. Also, I've saved the world before. But hey, who's counting?"
Boros just shook his head and moved on. "Alright then… Let's begin with Basic Mana Channeling."
I grinned. This was gonna be fun.
Instructor Boros pulled out a thick, rune-etched stone and slammed it on the desk. "This," he bellowed, "is a Mana Core Block. It absorbs mana and reacts to your elemental affinity. Today, we see what nature each of you possess."
The students formed a line. Fire, water, wind, earth—typical flashy sparks and swirls followed each touch of the stone.
Then it was my turn.
I waddled up, clutching my wooden sword like a comfort plushie.
A girl in line whispered, "He's seriously two? What's next, a one-year-old headmaster?"
I placed my hand on the core.
The stone didn't glow. It didn't sparkle.
It shook.
Then cracked.
Then detonated into a brilliant explosion of light so bright everyone screamed and shielded their eyes. When the light faded, the stone was gone.
Just—gone.
Smoke trailed from my palm as I blinked innocently at Boros. "Oopsie~."
The instructor stared at me like I'd personally offended his ancestors. "What...was that?"
I shrugged, "I guess I'm… compatible."
The class gawked. Someone dropped their pen. Another whispered, "He's not a prodigy—he's a walking apocalypse."
I turned around, beaming. "Dada's gonna be so proud!"
Boros just sighed and scribbled something down in his notes. Probably: do not anger the toddler.
Instructor Boros hadn't fully recovered from the mana core explosion when he led the class to the next chamber. It was a training hall lined with reinforced steel dummies and weighted equipment.
"This next test measures raw physical strength," Boros announced, still eyeing me like I was a ticking time bomb in pigtails. "You will each strike the strength gauge once. The higher the number, the stronger your physical output. Simple."
One by one, the students took their turns. Numbers ranged from 80 to 200. A particularly buff guy named Groff let out a roar and hit 312, earning a few gasps.
Then I stepped up. Tiny. Barefoot. Gripping a stick I still insisted was a sword.
"Uhh, little guy," Groff said, leaning down with a mocking grin. "Need a boost?"
I looked up at him and, in the deepest voice I could muster, said, "Don't blink."
I tapped the gauge.
Just a tap.
The entire machine groaned. Cracked. And then exploded backwards, embedding itself into the far wall with a deafening crash.
Silence.
Someone in the back fainted. Boros dropped his clipboard.
I turned and dusted my hands. "Sorry. I'm two."
A collective "WHAT?!" erupted from the classroom.
I walked back to my spot like nothing happened, grinning smugly as Groff stared at me, mouth hanging open.
Spiritual Resonance
Instructor Boros had clearly reached his limit. His left eye twitched as he stood in front of a glowing, crystalline arch pulsing softly with mana.
"This…" he sighed, rubbing his temple, "…is the Spiritual Resonance Test. It measures your soul's compatibility with the world's spiritual flow—your potential to grow, awaken rare abilities, or manifest a signature aura."
The class was quiet now. No more mocking. No more sneers. Just stolen glances in my direction. I stood, still tiny, still barefoot, twiddling my stick-sword like a popsicle.
One by one, the students stepped under the arch. Lights flickered in colors—green, blue, sometimes gold. Numbers appeared above their heads, marking their resonance on a scale from 1 to 100.
"57… not bad."
"32… average."
"89?! Exceptional!"
Then it was my turn.
I toddled up, humming. "Do I just stand here? Or do I make it explode again?"
"No explosions, please," Boros said, clutching a healing charm just in case.
I stepped under the arch. Nothing happened.
For three seconds.
Then—
BOOOOM.
The arch didn't just glow—it ignited. Every crystal shard radiated with blinding white light, then violet, then a deep crimson gold.
The resonance number above my head?
9999
The system tried to keep up… then glitched.
∞
The floor trembled. Wind howled. The building flickered like it was about to be erased from existence. Students scrambled to the corners of the room as I blinked up at the numbers above me.
I turned to Boros with a casual smile. "Is that good?"
He sat down slowly. "He's… TWO. YEARS. OLD."
I beamed. "Spiritually advanced for my age."
The room was in utter chaos. Students were whispering, pointing, even some of them were taking out their phones to record what had just happened. Boros was still sitting, rubbing his temples as if he couldn't believe what was going on.
I turned, looking around at all the stunned faces, and sighed dramatically.
"Why do you guys keep repeating the tests from the aptitude test?" I asked, tapping my foot impatiently. "Aren't we supposed to go back to the lessons? This is pretty annoying."
Boros stared at me. His face was a mix of disbelief and frustration.
"U-uh, yes, well…" he stammered. "Normally, no one… no one... gets this much resonance. That's why we—"
I waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we just get back to learning something useful? Like the legendary skills of the chosen people or how to destroy bad guys?"
Another student, a girl in the back row, raised her hand. "Uhm… excuse me, but aren't you supposed to be the one learning? Why are you acting like you're already some kind of… of… hero?"
I grinned mischievously, crossing my arms. "Because I'm two. I should be allowed to act like a hero, don't you think?"
There was a long, stunned silence. Then, from the back of the room, a voice piped up, "This is gonna be so much fun."
I smirked. "Yeah, I thought so."
Boros finally got the class settled and motioned to the combat dummies in the corner of the room, which now seemed like a laughable distraction in comparison to everything that had just happened. "Okay, everyone, line up! We're going to go through some basic maneuvers. Let's see how you handle real combat scenarios—against something more than just a test."
I watched as the students began to file into formation, each grabbing a weapon—ranging from swords to spears to odd, makeshift gear. They were all nervous, probably wondering if they could impress the instructors with their skills. But as I watched them, I just got… pissed.
I slammed my milk bottle down onto the desk with a thud, the sound loud enough to catch everyone's attention. I was done with this. "Enough of this stupid crap!" I shouted, startling the entire room. "Combat dummies? What the hell are we doing here? The world's full of real monsters, and all you guys are doing is playing around with these fake ones!"
The class fell silent, all eyes now fixed on me. Boros blinked, clearly thrown off by my outburst. "S-Samuel, calm down—"
"Calm down?!" I snapped, standing up from my seat, my hands clenched into fists. "Do you see me sitting here like some regular student? I've got the strength, the experience, and the damn power to actually fight monsters! I don't need this kiddie training!"
Boros froze, unsure of how to handle a two-year-old yelling at him. "Samuel, you're—"
"I'm two!" I roared, cutting him off. "And that doesn't mean I'm too young to do what you guys can't! You're all here pretending like you can fight, but you're all weak. You're all scared! You want to be real Hunters? Then show me what you've got."
I turned, glaring at the combat dummies, my eyes practically burning with anger. The class, sensing the change in my demeanor, took a collective step back. Rei was the only one who seemed unfazed, but even he was quietly watching, no longer smiling.
"Come on," I continued, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Show me how you deal with real monsters. I've already killed more than half of them. Let's see if you can even land a decent hit."
Boros opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He was completely at a loss for words. At this point, I was done. I wasn't here for lessons. I was here to fight.
With an angry growl, I marched toward the nearest dummy, grabbed the sword that was laying on the ground, and swung it hard, slicing the dummy in half in a single, fluid motion.
There was a stunned silence in the room as the pieces of the dummy fell to the floor, but I wasn't done yet.
"What are you waiting for?" I growled. "Start training for real or get out of my way."
The sword cut through the dummy, the sharp, crisp sound echoing through the room. But even as the half-split torso fell to the ground, the reality of what I'd just done hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn't showing off anymore. It wasn't about trying to prove something to these people—it was the rage, the frustration, the utter anger bubbling up inside me that made my hand move. I wanted to fight, wanted to make an impact—but it felt like no one here took it seriously.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands, but the anger didn't go away. It kept gnawing at the back of my mind, like a wild animal wanting to break free. Boros was still standing there, wide-eyed and speechless. Rei, too, looked a little surprised, but his face quickly shifted into something I couldn't quite read.
The rest of the class was tense, clearly unsure of how to react. Some looked at me like I was a freak, others like I was a challenge. It was as if they weren't used to someone like me being in this kind of situation—someone who was both incredibly young and yet... ridiculously powerful.
Boros cleared his throat, his voice shaky but firm. "Samuel, that's enough. You've made your point. But if you want to be a Hunter, this isn't about just brute strength. There's more to it than just cutting down dummies. The real world is dangerous, and you need control. You can't just lash out whenever you feel like it."
"Control?!" I shot back, my voice dripping with disbelief. "Control is for people who are too scared to take real action. I have control. I've been in control of my life since I was born. It's not about the damn dummies! It's about real monsters, Boros! The ones that will actually kill people if we don't step up and stop them."
The words hung in the air, my frustration turning into something more tangible—an ultimatum. Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably, but no one said a word. Boros let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair, clearly at a loss for how to deal with me.
"You're right," he finally admitted, his voice a little softer. "But you need more than just strength, Samuel. You need discipline. You need to know when to hold back, when to fight, and how to survive. If you go off half-cocked every time you get mad, you're not going to last long in the field."
I clenched my jaw. He was right—maybe. I didn't want to hear it, though. I didn't want to admit that there was more to it than just being able to destroy everything in my path. But it didn't make it any easier to sit here, to play by their rules, to wait for things to happen when there was no time left.
I took a step back, letting the sword fall from my grip. I stood there, breathing heavily, eyes scanning the room. It was too much. I couldn't just stand around here, waiting for the right moment. The world needed saving now. Not when I had enough training or control. Not when I was "ready."
"You guys don't get it," I muttered, shaking my head, still angry. "The world's been waiting for someone to do something for ten damn years, and all you do is talk about lessons and control. The monsters? They're still out there."
Boros, for the first time, didn't argue back. He just nodded slowly, as if he understood more than he was letting on. Rei finally spoke, his voice quiet but clear.
"Samuel... maybe there's something we can teach you, too. But you need to listen. You need to learn... how to be a Hunter, not just someone with power."
I gritted my teeth. This wasn't what I wanted. But deep down, I knew he was right. It wasn't enough to be strong—I had to know what to do with that strength.
I sat back down, my fists still clenched in my lap, staring at the floor. My body burned with frustration, but I forced myself to calm down.
"Fine," I muttered, finally, "teach me then. But don't expect me to sit around for long."
The room was quiet for a moment before Boros sighed. "We'll see what we can do. But understand this, Samuel—you're not just training to fight monsters. You're training to survive. And there's a difference."
I didn't respond. I just leaned back, sucking in a deep breath. I didn't have time to waste. But maybe, just maybe, there was something to learn from all this. Something I didn't know yet.
I crossed my arms and puffed my cheeks out like a balloon, plopping back down onto the floor with a dramatic little hmph. "But remember," I muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, "I'm two."
Silence.
The kind of silence where you could hear even the ants in the walls questioning their life choices.
Boros blinked slowly, his lips parting as if to say something, but nothing came out. One of the older students—some bulky guy with a look like he's never lost a bar fight—choked on his drink. Another dropped her pen and slowly turned toward me like I'd just spoken an ancient curse.
I stared at them all with the most serious, unimpressed expression I could muster—puffy cheeks and milk-stained lips and all.
"I may be two," I continued, "but I'm more qualified than all of you. Probably combined. Just saying."
Still no one spoke. So I reached for my milk bottle beside me, gave it a victorious pop, and started drinking from it like I had just won the argument of the century.
Boros turned slowly to Rei, whispering in the lowest voice possible, "He's... actually two?"
Rei nodded with a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Physically, yes. Mentally, spiritually, and strategically? That's a whole other mess."
I let out a content sigh and patted my stomach. "Alright. I'm ready for more lessons. Unless you guys are scared to teach a toddler how to save the world."
They really didn't know how to handle me. And honestly?
That was kind of the point.
End of Chapter 5.