My D Rank Skill is Actually SSS-Rank

Chapter 2: The Road to the Guild and the Case of the Suspiciously Shiny Slime

Alaric strode out of the village, or rather, was dragged out of it by Sir Grady, the self-proclaimed 'Resolute' hero. The dust of its unrefined roads clung to his boots, a gritty reminder of the suboptimal ground he was forced to traverse. Behind them, the newly Adamantine-reinforced gate gleamed in the morning sun, a testament to his D-Rank prowess. He could still hear the faint, excited squeals of the child and the bewildered murmurs of the guards. Good. Let them be confused. Confusion is a D-Rank status effect, easily exploited. Though, the look on that female guard's face… that was almost SSS-tier entertainment.

"Come, young man! To Silverhaven! Glory awaits!" Sir Grady boomed, his grip on Alaric's arm surprisingly firm. The knight's enthusiasm was almost as irritating as his lack of situational awareness.

"Yeah, yeah, glory. And probably blisters," Alaric muttered, trying to subtly pull his arm free. "You know, for an A-Rank hero, you'd think you'd have a teleportation spell or at least a decent carriage. This walking thing is highly inefficient. My stamina bar is already blinking red."

Sir Grady chuckled, a hearty, booming sound that probably scared off any wildlife within a ten-mile radius. "A true hero walks among the people, young one! And besides, the roads are safer on foot. Less chance of ambush for a lone traveler."

Lone traveler? You're practically broadcasting our location with that booming voice and shiny armor, you walking beacon of 'Please Rob Me,' Alaric thought, rolling his eyes internally. I'm surprised we haven't attracted every low-tier bandit in a five-day march. Maybe his 'Chivalrous Pose' skill has a hidden 'Intimidate Bandits' effect. Highly unlikely. His mind, however, was already miles away, calculating. The village was a bust for immediate, high-tier loot. All the materials were too low-grade, too... mundane. He needed a proper city, a bustling hub where adventurers congregated, where discarded equipment piled up, where blacksmiths threw out their "failed" attempts. That's where the real SSS-tier gold mine lay. He needed an Adventurer's Guild.

System Notification: Quest Log Updated. Main Quest: Reach the Capital City of Silverhaven and Register at the Adventurer's Guild. Reward: Initial Guild Membership, Access to Basic Quests.

"Oh, a main quest already? How utterly predictable," Alaric muttered, rolling his eyes at the floating blue screen. "At least it's not 'Defeat 10 Slimes.' Though, if I could refine slimes…" He paused, a wicked thought forming. Could I? What would an SSS-tier refined slime even be? A sentient, indestructible blob that cleans my armor? Or a perfectly transparent, jiggling companion? The possibilities were both intriguing and mildly disturbing. And if it's squeezable... for stress relief, of course. Or perhaps... other forms of relief. For research purposes, naturally. A 'Personal Comfort Slime,' SSS-tier.

The road out of the village was a dirt path, winding through sparse woodlands. The sun, a surprisingly normal yellow orb in the sky of Aethelgard, beat down, making him sweat. His new teenage body was still getting used to physical exertion. Ugh, no auto-regen stamina? This world is so unbalanced. And humid. Seriously, where's the climate control? Is there a 'Temperature Regulation' skill I can refine? Probably D-Rank, then it'd give me 'Localized Ice Age' or something. Or maybe 'Perfect Sweat Absorption' for my clothes. That would be a game-changer.

He walked for what felt like an hour, his arm still firmly in Grady's grip. The silence was broken only by the chirping of unseen insects and the occasional rustle in the undergrowth. His eyes, however, were constantly scanning. Not for threats, but for materials. He was a scavenger now, a connoisseur of trash. Every discarded twig, every loose pebble, every patch of mud was a potential SSS-tier artifact waiting to be born. He even eyed a particularly robust-looking dandelion. Could I refine that? Turn it into a sentient, self-propelled weed-whacker? The possibilities for annoying the local flora were endless. Or maybe a highly efficient, self-replicating, edible plant that tastes like bacon. 'Bacon-weed.' I could make a fortune.

He spotted a small, oddly shaped rock by the side of the road. It looked entirely unremarkable, grey and pitted, probably kicked there by a passing goblin. D-Rank, probably. Perfect. He knelt, picking it up, much to Sir Grady's confusion. It felt rough, heavy. He focused his skill. The familiar warmth spread.

System Notification: [Basic Material Refinement] activated. Material: Common Fieldstone. Result: Perfectly Balanced Sling Stone (C-Tier Artifact). Condition: Enhanced Aerodynamics, Minor Impact Amplification.

Alaric frowned. "C-Tier? That's it? After the Adamantine lock, I get a fancy rock? What a ripoff. This isn't even 'Slightly Less Useless' tier." He tossed the stone. It flew with surprising speed and accuracy, embedding itself deep into a nearby tree trunk with a satisfying thwack. "Okay, fine. Useful for a sling, I guess. But hardly SSS-tier. My expectations were clearly too high for a random roadside pebble. Guess not everything is a hidden gem. Some trash is just... trash. Still, a C-Tier from a D-Rank? That's still a net gain. Efficiency! Always optimize the gains, even if they're minor. It's like getting a rare drop from a common mob. Not legendary, but still better than nothing. Maybe I can refine a pile of these into a perfectly balanced cannonball."

Sir Grady, who had watched the whole exchange with a baffled expression, finally spoke. "Young man, why are you refining common rocks? We are on a journey of great importance! To the capital! To glory!"

"Just... practicing," Alaric mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. "Gotta keep the D-Rank skills sharp, you know? Never know when a perfectly aerodynamic pebble might save the day." Like, if I need to knock a fruit off a tree, or hit a particularly annoying knight in the head. For tactical reasons, of course. To 'optimize' his 'heroic' trajectory.

He continued walking, his focus shifting. He needed something truly useless to refine. Something so utterly devoid of potential that the system would be forced to break its own rules to give him something good. Something that would make even the most jaded adventurer scoff. Something like...

Suddenly, a squelching sound broke the quiet. A common sight in any fantasy world: a slime. This one was a particularly pathetic specimen, a translucent, wobbly blob of green, slowly oozing across the path like a forgotten jelly dessert that had decided to go on a very slow, very determined journey. It left a faint, sticky trail.

System Notification: Monster Detected: [Common Green Slime - F-Rank]. Materials: Slime Core (F-Rank), Basic Slime Goo (F-Rank).

Alaric's eyes lit up. F-Rank? Even better! The lower the rank, the more potential for a broken exploit! This is like finding a common chest in a dungeon that secretly holds a legendary item. The universe wants me to break it. And I am more than happy to oblige. He grinned, a truly wicked, perverted thought forming in his mind. What if I could refine a slime? Not its core, not its goo, but the slime itself? Could I make it... transparent? Or bouncy? Or perhaps... self-lubricating? The possibilities for comedic (and potentially lewd) applications were endless. A perfectly clear, squeezable, self-lubricating... stress ball. For my own personal use, of course. For optimal stress relief. And maybe a little bit of... flexibility training for my hands. Purely ergonomic.

He cautiously approached the slime. It wobbled, sensing his presence, and slowly began to extend a pseudopod towards him, as if trying to engulf his foot. It smelled faintly of pond water and mild existential dread.

"Hey there, little guy," Alaric said, kneeling down. The slime wobbled faster, clearly seeing him as a meal. "Don't worry, I'm not here to kill you. Not yet, anyway. I'm here to... optimize you. Think of it as a spa day. For your very essence. A full-body cleanse, if you will. You'll thank me later."

He extended his hand, palm flat against the wobbly mass, focusing his skill on the entire blob. The familiar ticklish warmth spread, but this time, it felt... different. More intense, like a thousand tiny needles pricking his palm, or maybe a very aggressive deep-tissue massage. The slime began to shimmer, its translucent green becoming clearer, then almost invisible. It pulsed, shrinking slightly, then expanding, its form becoming perfectly spherical, perfectly smooth. It looked like a giant, perfectly clear, jiggling marble, reflecting the sunlight in dazzling, rainbow hues.

System Notification: [Basic Material Refinement] activated. Material: Common Green Slime. Result: Perfected Transparent Slime (SSS-Tier Artifact). Condition: Indestructible, Perfect Optical Clarity, Self-Propelled (Slow), Highly Elastic, Squeezable (without harm).

Alaric stared. "Indestructible? Perfect optical clarity? Highly elastic? Squeezable?" He poked the slime. His finger sank in, then bounced back with surprising force. He tried to stomp on it. His foot bounced off harmlessly, making him nearly lose his balance. He tried to cut it with his Adamantine needle. The needle simply slid over its surface without leaving a mark, as if trying to cut solidified light.

"Holy mother of exploits," Alaric breathed, a genuine, non-sarcastic awe in his voice. "I just made an SSS-tier bouncy ball. From an F-Rank slime. This is... this is beautiful. This is art. This is peak optimization. This is better than any legendary weapon. This is... a waifu slime. For stress relief. And tactical bouncing." He imagined the implications. An indestructible, transparent shield? A perfectly elastic catapult? A silent, perfectly clear scout that could sneak anywhere? Or, his perverted mind immediately supplied, a perfectly clear, squeezable stress ball that also happens to be indestructible. Perfect for those moments when a certain female guard's armor is just too... distracting. Or for, you know, 'training' purposes. To improve grip strength. Very important for adventurers.

The slime, now perfectly spherical and transparent, jiggled happily. It seemed to emit a faint, contented hum, almost like a purr. It's... happy? I refined it into happiness? This is getting weird. And slightly concerning. What other existential properties can I accidentally bestow upon things? Can I refine a monster's 'anger' into 'mild annoyance'? Or a villain's 'evil' into 'petty bureaucratic incompetence'? The possibilities are terrifyingly hilarious. I could refine a demon lord's 'dominance' into 'extreme politeness.'

Suddenly, a voice boomed from the trees, cutting through the peaceful forest sounds. "Halt, foul beast! You shall not harm this innocent traveler!"

Alaric looked up. Bursting from the foliage was a figure straight out of a fantasy novel cover: a tall, muscular man in shining, if slightly dented, plate armor, wielding a massive, two-handed sword that gleamed with holy light. He had a chiseled jaw, flowing blonde hair that seemed to catch the sunlight just right, and a determined, heroic expression that screamed 'main character.'

System Notification: Adventurer Detected: [Sir Grady, The Resolute - A-Rank]. Skills: Holy Strike (A), Divine Smite (B), Chivalrous Pose (C).

"Oh, great. A generic hero," Alaric muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. "And an A-Rank, too. Just what I needed. Probably thinks he's hot stuff because his 'Chivalrous Pose' is C-Rank. Pathetic. I bet his 'Basic Material Refinement' is still stuck at D-Rank, if he even has it. Probably uses some archaic forging method. So inefficient."

Sir Grady, seeing Alaric kneeling before the transparent slime, misinterpreted the scene entirely. His heroic expression hardened. "Fear not, young one! I, Sir Grady, The Resolute, shall protect you from this gelatinous menace!" He raised his sword, its holy light flaring, casting dramatic shadows.

"Wait, no, it's fine!" Alaric yelled, scrambling to his feet, holding up his hands. "He's not menacing! He's... refined! He's a friend! He's a perfectly optimized stress ball!"

Sir Grady paused, mid-swing, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Refined? What sorcery is this? A common slime cannot be 'refined'! It is a creature of pure, unholy goo, fit only for smiting!"

"Well, this one can," Alaric retorted, exasperated, gesturing to the perfectly clear, jiggling sphere. "See? Perfectly transparent. Highly elastic. Squeezable! It's an SSS-tier artifact now, you muscle-brained oaf! It's like a diamond, but bouncier! And it purrs! You wouldn't smite a purring diamond, would you?"

Sir Grady stared at the slime, then at Alaric, then back at the slime. His heroic expression slowly morphed into one of utter bewilderment, then a hint of suspicion. "But... it's just a slime. A very... clear... slime. What use is a clear slime? Does it... absorb evil? Or perhaps reflect it? Does it grant... wisdom?"

"What use?!" Alaric threw his hands up in exasperation, his inner gamer screaming at the sheer inefficiency of this hero's thought process. "It's indestructible! It's perfectly clear! You could use it as an unbreakable lens for scouting! A bouncy shield that deflects blows with zero damage! A perfectly silent, transparent scout that could sneak into any enemy camp! Or, you know, a really good stress ball after dealing with idiots like you!" He then muttered under his breath, "Or a very discreet way to... observe certain things without being seen. Like, say, the inside of a noblewoman's carriage. For tactical information, obviously. Or maybe for... personal tactical information. Very important for understanding the local customs."

Sir Grady, however, seemed to focus on the "indestructible" part. "Indestructible, you say?" He cautiously poked the slime with the tip of his holy sword. The blade merely slid over the surface, leaving no mark, not even a scratch. His eyes widened. "By the Holy Light... it truly is!" He then tried to bash it with the flat of his sword. The slime just jiggled, absorbing the impact, then bounced the sword back, nearly hitting Sir Grady in the face.

He looked at Alaric with a new, intense gaze, a mixture of awe and suspicion. "Young man, what is your skill? How did you perform such a miracle on a mere F-Rank slime? Are you a hidden saint? A legendary alchemist? A secret master of the arcane arts? Or perhaps... a demon in disguise?"

Alaric sighed. "It's just Basic Material Refinement. D-Rank. Nothing special. It says so right here." He gestured vaguely at his own invisible System screen, knowing Sir Grady wouldn't see it. He tried to sound bored, but a tiny smirk betrayed him. "Maybe your 'master smiths' just aren't optimizing their technique. They're probably stuck in the old meta, too focused on flashy enchantments instead of fundamental material properties. It's all about the basics, man. The fundamentals. You wouldn't believe what you can do with a perfectly refined pebble. Or a perfectly refined... dandelion."

Sir Grady, clearly a man of action rather than abstract concepts, shook his head, his blonde hair swaying dramatically. "This is beyond my understanding. But... if what you say is true, then your skill is a gift from the gods! You must come with me to the capital, Silverhaven! The Guild Master, perhaps even the Royal Court, must hear of this! Imagine, an army equipped with Adamantine-grade gear crafted from common iron! We could finally push back the Shadow Blight that plagues our lands!"

Oh, great. Now I'm being dragged into politics. This is exactly what I didn't want. More paperwork. More explaining myself to baffled NPCs. And probably more opportunities for my pervy thoughts to get me into trouble. The Shadow Blight? Sounds like a grindy endgame raid I'm not prepared for. I'm still in the tutorial section! Alaric imagined endless meetings, paperwork, and being forced to explain his pervy thoughts to a bunch of stuffy nobles. "Look, I'm just trying to get to the Adventurer's Guild. I need to register. You know, basic stuff. No need to involve the royalty. I'm more of a solo player, really. Or maybe a small, efficient party. Definitely no large-scale military operations. I'm not here to save the world; I'm here to exploit its crafting system. And maybe find some good bathhouses."

"Nonsense!" Sir Grady boomed, grabbing Alaric by the arm with surprising strength. His grip was like a vice, almost as unbreakable as the slime. "A talent such as yours cannot be left to merely 'register'! You could revolutionize the kingdom's armaments! Imagine, an army equipped with Adamantine-grade gear crafted from common iron! We could finally push back the Shadow Blight!"

Alaric winced. "Yeah, imagine the material cost of all that D-Rank iron. And the time. It's not instant, you know. It takes a few seconds per nail. A whole sword would take... well, a while. And I'd need a lot of rusty nails. Or, you know, a mountain of discarded goblin clubs. And I haven't even unlocked the 'Mass Production' skill yet. This isn't a factory, it's a personal skill!" He tried to pull his arm free, but Sir Grady's grip was unyielding.

Sir Grady, however, was already dragging him down the road towards Silverhaven, his booming voice echoing through the trees as he excitedly spoke of future glory and the inevitable defeat of the Shadow Blight. The transparent slime jiggled happily behind them, occasionally bumping into Alaric's legs. You better not tell anyone what I'm thinking, you SSS-tier pervert-detector, Alaric thought, sending a mental glare at the jiggling blob. The slime merely jiggled in response, a faint, contented hum emanating from its perfectly clear form. Alaric shivered. It knows. It definitely knows. This is going to be a long journey. And probably very embarrassing.

The journey to Silverhaven, it seemed, was going to be anything but basic. And Alaric, the cynical, perverted skill-optimizer, was just getting started on his SSS-tier journey, whether he liked it or not.