That wasn't the only reason he was stuck at A Rank. It was also due to how the Seeker Association rated individuals.

They focused mainly on how effectively someone could deal with monsters, how well they could work with or support a team, and so on.

That's why healing-related abilities often received higher ranks than normal offensive skills.

In addition, to qualify for S Rank, an individual needed enough firepower to break through bosses hardened skin—making skills like erasing one's presence fundamentally useless.

Against another human or a Seeker, though, it was a completely different story.

Now that I had a general idea of who I was dealing with, I made a call to Master Tang to track that person's location for future use.

I won't personally seek him out for a fight, but I won't let him roam the city without my surveillance either.

With that out of the way, I mentally prepared for the upcoming assassination and set up a cover story, just in case the worst-case scenario unfolded.

'It's all or nothing. After this, the city will no longer be the same.'

I clenched my fist, my heart pounding—not out of fear, but excitement. For too long, I been hiding my power, and now I could finally let loose.

Once the line was crossed, there was no turning back.

.

.

.

.

The day of the mission arrived.

Without informing anyone, I slipped into a black jacket, packed a bag with food, and leapt from my balcony into the street below.

Night swallowed me whole. The darkness clung to my body so much that even if a person stood right in front of me, they wouldn't see a thing.

Good. This was exactly what I was aiming for, and the reason I prepared so early.

Next, I climbed the tall metal walls that divided the district. With my enhanced physique, such obstacles were a piece of cake.

There were guards hiding at the top, but the area was so vast that the gaps between them were huge. Honestly, these defenses were only useful against monsters attacks—not anything remotely small like me.

Eventually, I reached the Federal Building—not a small, boring office, but a real government center with tall stone columns and big glass windows.

My target would be here in a few hours to give his speech, so I needed to stake out a spot near the tall stairway where it would mostly take place.

I squinted and saw that the ceiling was wide enough for a person to fit. All I had to do was reach a vent and camp out there.

'I need to be careful. I can't afford to alert them, or the senator won't even show his face in public.'

With that in mind, I merged with the shadows again. It took me no time to reach a good hiding spot—it was wide and dark enough that even if someone checked, I could just activate my shadow veil.

Time passed slowly as I waited, so I decided to sleep it off.

mic check

My eyes slowly open. It was finally starting—about time, too, my back was already killing me. Figuratively, of course.

I observed quietly, listening to the voices of those speaking before my target.

Their chatter was meaningless, mere distractions as the crowd's attention shifted from one figure to another. Then finally, a voice rang out clearly, cutting through the background noise:

"Mr. Rockwell will be talking now and answering your questions."

That was my signal. My heart rate picked up, not with fear, but with anticipation.

I adjusted myself in the vent, feeling the shadows cling to me like a second skin. Every muscle tensed as I prepared.

The first few questions from the reporters were dull, rehearsed—perfectly predictable—but I paid attention anyway.

Timing was everything. I got to wait for the perfect moment, the part of his speech where his guard would drop, where the crowd's energy would peak and every eye would be on him.

He started talking about his "vision for the city, and the country" the words loud, commanding, echoing across the plaza.

The crowd leaned in, hungry for every word. This was it. The peak of his charisma, the zenith of their attention. The world held its breath for Rockwell.

And so did I.

"In the next election, I will run for president in order to restore a government that serves the people, not the other way around."

"My administration will be dedicated to dismantling the entrenched bureaucracy and corporate influence that has paralyzed our nation for decades. "

"We will put an end to corporate dependency—no more inflated prices."

"We will build better healthcare. Ordinary citizens will no longer have to live in fear of not earning enough to survive, while CEOs pocket hundreds of millions and billions—while their employees starve."

My hands trembled because his words made sense. But the files I got from Master Tang painted a sick man who would do anything for profit—including inhumane experiments.

Was I wrong?

Or was he just a masterful politician, one whose acting skill was so strong that not even my enhanced hearing could detect the slightest inconsistency in his voice—as if he truly believed every word he was saying.

That certainty felt too real, and it made me uneasy.

Fuck it, I needed to stop overthinking and just do my mission. Either way, it was too late to turn back now.

"…a future where we are all safe, where we are all prosperous!" Rockwell declared, arms outstretched, his voice carrying over the applause of the masses.

BOOOOM!

The ceiling exploded downward, sending steel, plaster, and wires raining down.

Dust and smoke swallowed the area, leaving civilians confused and the guards on edge as they closed in, pistols raised and ready to fire.

Even the snipers positioned on the rooftops began lining up their scopes.

The press, on the other hand, zoomed in with their cameras, while the bolder ones got loser directly, all for the sake of getting the story.

"Rrrrg..."

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