The World Beyond the Rift

For the noble families, keeping an eye on a mysterious S-rank existence like Adam was a necessary precaution, if not outright self-preservation. He had appeared out of nowhere, his power was undeniable, and worst of all—he was completely unpredictable.

Elera's family and Kael's family had come to a similar conclusion: If Adam was already an S-rank, antagonizing him was a foolish move. Instead, they opted for patience. They gathered every scrap of information available—his residence, his "associates" (Hans, Bam, and Barolt), and his movement patterns.

The problem?

Nothing about Adam made sense.

The man had no history before a few years ago. No past records, no noble ties, no affiliations. Just an unknown variable that had appeared like a storm and was now wreaking havoc… on his own son.

At first, the spies sent to observe him thought they had been assigned a relatively simple task—track his activities, note down his interactions, and assess his threat level. But by the end of the first week, the spies started requesting reassignment.

The 'Training' That Broke the Nobles' Minds

It started with the first report.

"Subject seen forcing his own son to drink poison. We assume this is an assassination attempt, but the child is still alive and walking."

The nobles reading the report nearly choked on their wine.

"What do you mean, forcing his son to drink poison?!" one of them bellowed, scanning the paper in disbelief.

Did Adam hate his own son? Was this some twisted experiment?

The next report only made things worse.

"Subject took his son to a volcanic region. Left him there to 'train in extreme heat.' Child returned alive."

"Impossible…" one noble muttered, his hands trembling. "Is the child… a monster?"

And then came the worst one yet:

"Subject threw his own son into a horde of monsters outside the nation's borders. Child survived. We overheard the boy scream, 'If you want to kill me, just do it already!' Father ignored him and claimed that 'kids these days are weak.'"

The entire room fell into silence.

"…I've changed my mind," one noble finally spoke. "We should not investigate this man. In fact, we should stay as far away from him as possible."

The others nodded in solemn agreement.

Spies' Observations—A Psychological Horror Story

Despite the nobles' growing fear, some of their more dedicated spies continued tailing Adam. These were seasoned observers, capable of tracking even the deadliest warriors without being detected.

They thought they were ready.

But nothing could prepare them for the sheer absurdity of Adam's existence.

One particularly traumatized spy reported:

"Subject was seen sprinting up a mountain while carrying a fully grown bear on his shoulders. Upon reaching the peak, he threw the bear off the cliff. Then, he went down, picked up the same bear, and repeated the process six more times. Purpose unknown."

Another spy, who had been watching Barolt's training, sent back a shaky report:

"Subject punched his son in the face. Hard. The child rolled across the ground and groaned, 'Are you trying to kill me?' Subject responded, 'What kind of warrior complains after one punch? Get up.'"

"Child got up. Subject punched him again."

"This repeated for three hours."

By this point, half of the spies refused to file further reports.

Hans & Bam—The 'Noble' Thieves

While Adam was unknowingly driving the noble families to madness, Hans and Bam were out handling business.

Unlike their boss, they had no intention of training in volcanoes or wrestling bears. Their job was simple—sell the monster parts Adam brought back from his hunts, collect money, and keep a low profile.

Unfortunately, staying low-profile wasn't their strong suit.

Word had reached the noble families that Adam's two associates frequently visited the town. They saw this as an opportunity.

"Capture them, interrogate them," one noble ordered. "If we can't get close to Adam, we'll go after his men."

A group of hired thugs was sent to ambush Hans and Bam in a quiet alleyway. The plan was simple: surround them, knock them unconscious, and drag them away for questioning.

What the nobles didn't know… was that Hans and Bam were not normal bodyguards.

As soon as the thugs surrounded them, Hans cracked his knuckles and let out a sigh.

"Hey, Bam," he said lazily, glancing at their attackers. "What do you think?"

Bam smirked. "They look… generous."

The thugs hesitated. "Generous?"

Hans and Bam suddenly grinned.

Five Minutes Later…

Instead of capturing Hans and Bam, the thugs were the ones lying unconscious in the alley. Their purses were missing, their weapons gone, and their expensive boots mysteriously absent.

Hans and Bam stood over them, counting their newly acquired coins.

"What a great city," Hans sighed happily. "People here just give us money."

Bam laughed, slipping on a pair of stolen boots. "Yeah, I kinda miss the good old days. Feels just like home."

Meanwhile, a noble watching from the shadows turned pale.

"…Are they thugs pretending to be bodyguards? Or bodyguards pretending to be thugs?"

The noble families soon received word of the failed ambush. Their reaction?

"Leave them alone. Just… leave them alone."

They had vastly underestimated Adam and his people.

Adam was a lunatic. His son was indestructible. And his bodyguards? His bodyguards were robbing their own assassins!

One noble rubbed his temples in frustration.

"I give up," he muttered. "Just pretend they don't exist. If we ignore them, maybe they'll ignore us."

And so, the noble families—powerful, cunning, and feared by many—came to a silent agreement.

They would do nothing.

They would pretend Adam didn't exist.

And they prayed he would extend the same courtesy.

---

Meanwhile, Back at Home…

Adam had no idea about any of this.

At the moment, he was too busy forcing Barolt to balance on top of a thin bamboo stick while carrying a boulder on his back.

Barolt gritted his teeth. "This—this doesn't make sense! How is this supposed to make me stronger?!"

Adam calmly sipped his tea. "It's training."

"This is torture!"

Adam raised an eyebrow. "I trained the same way."

Barolt looked at him in horror.

Hans, who had just returned, smirked. "Kid, let me tell you something important."

Barolt turned to him, desperate for some logic.

Hans grinned.

"You'll never understand our boss."

Barolt sighed and continued his 'training,' all while wondering if he should start praying for divine intervention.