Level Up The Colony
Chapter 45: Approach

Chapter 45: Approach

Timothy simply grabbed a drink from the table, a non-alcoholic one and took a sip.

"Don’t mind me. Act like I’m not here," he said, making his way to the back of the lounge.

Some of the guys immediately took on an air of superiority, trying to oppress him.

They still saw him as the same old Timothy, the one they used to call "Small Tim."

He knew why.

He had left school halfway through, not because of bad grades, but because of the school’s clear bias against him.

The place was filled with rich kids, and he had never belonged there.

So he had switched schools.

Even now, his eyes kept drifting back to the person who had invited him here.

Sophia.

And for some reason, he kept blaming himself.

The party continued.

The drinking wound down.

Then came introductions.

Apparently, most of them had gone on to prestigious universities.

Others had awakened abilities, some unranked, some already high-ranked at C and B.

And then there was Sophia’s brother, Ralph.

An A-rank Hunter.

That explained why she commanded respect.

Hunters were the new military power.

And every single person here had a bright, stable future.

Then, the questions reached him.

Timothy declined to answer.

But Sophia decided to speak for him.

She casually brought up his falling out of school.

The room’s reaction was immediate.

’As expected.’ Their eyes said it all.

Then Jonathan, one of his former classmates, asked the question that changed everything.

"But that means you’re a Hunter, right?"

Timothy was already irritated.

He had no intention of being a showpiece for their entertainment.

"Yes," he answered bluntly.

"What rank?"

All eyes were on him now.

"E-rank."

A moment of silence.

Then laughter.

One guy started it.

Another followed.

Then another.

Soon, the entire room was laughing.

Even Sophia stared at him in shock.

Not just shock, disappointment.

He understood that look.

She had expected more.

And that’s where the mockery began.

Timothy became the center of their conversation, their taunts, their condescending remarks.

But he didn’t flinch.

He simply sat there, drink in hand, answering their questions with calm, measured replies.

Then one of them spoke, his tone mocking but disguised as an offer.

"So if my raid team needs a porter, can I call you?"

Laughter rippled through the group.

They were treating him like a joke.

Timothy took another sip of his drink.

Then, with the same unshaken calm, he responded.

"I’m quite costly, you know. And I’m also... selective of the teams I join."

Silence.

For the first time that evening, they didn’t know how to respond.

And that alone was victory enough.

Timothy leaned back in his chair, unbothered by the laughter and jeers around him.

"Oh yeah? How much?" someone scoffed.

"One million naira ($666) cash per raid," Timothy replied calmly.

The laughter only grew louder, the insults shifting from his role to his family, but he remained unfazed.

He refused to let his pheromones or anger slip, there were more creative ways to be a bad person without waiting for karma.

His drink was gone, both in his cup and bottle, leaving him with nothing to distract himself as the noise continued.

Deciding he’d had enough, he stood, paid his bill, and left.

It was just past 8 p.m. when he arrived home.

Having already completed his daily quests, he collapsed onto his bed, only to hear a knock at his front door.

Extending his perception, he was surprised to find Oga John, the neighborhood vigilante, outside.

A part of him wanted Gray to scare the man off, but some people didn’t flee from danger, they pulled the trigger first and asked questions later.

With a sigh, he got up and answered the door.

"Good evening," Timothy greeted, his exhaustion evident.

"Bastard and infidel Timothy..." Oga John sneered, studying his reaction, but the insult barely registered.

"A young lady came looking for you around 4 p.m. She kept knocking and calling out even though it was clear you weren’t home. I tried to chase her away, but she was a stubborn little darling. Before she left, she gave me this for you." He handed over a folded piece of paper.

"Give her a call, will ya? I’d rather not have to deal with her again."

Timothy wasn’t particularly interested until Oga John mentioned it was a woman.

Perhaps Sophia had stopped by before heading to the mall? But as he turned to close the door, he hesitated.

Sophia didn’t know where he lived.

Not even his friends did.

Swiftly reopening the door, he ran after Oga John.

"Did she say her name?"

"Kid, you must have a lot of girls chasing after you. Let’s see... Misty? No, Mercy? Mirim? No, she wasn’t water..."

Timothy’s eyes narrowed.

"Miriam?"

"Ah yes, that’s it! Mirima." Oga John botched the pronunciation but confirmed his suspicion.

"Thanks," Timothy muttered, heading back inside.

He tucked the paper away, his curiosity piqued, but exhaustion won out.

As he entered his room, he spotted Gray lying on its back, a clear sign it was conserving energy.

He asked if anyone had come by, but the creature only gave a vague confirmation, too weak to elaborate.

Sighing, Timothy let it go and fell asleep.

---

The next morning, he woke up late and groggy. His usual routine was rushed as he hurried to the raid, skipping his daily quests.

By the time he arrived at the site, it was already 8:30 a.m.

earning him a guaranteed bad review, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The raid location was within a church residence, leading to constant interruptions from overzealous members who believed they could handle the gates themselves.

It was frustrating to see elderly women and grown men so willing to throw their lives away.

Finally, they made it inside.

To Timothy’s relief, this time it was at least a set of aggressive monsters.

The team looked experienced and didn’t need much help until they encountered the kobolds.

To Timothy, kobolds were just werehyenas, disproportionate, loud, and annoying.

Fortunately, this raid team was stacked with damage dealers: two fire mages, warriors, and assassins.

They made quick work of the small fries and reached the boss room, where several massive kobolds loomed in the darkness.

The team hesitated.

If they cleared all the monsters, the dungeon would close.

Raids like these usually involved multiple teams because some dungeons allowed respawns.

The strategy was simple: keep the boss alive while clearing out minions to maximize gains.

But the limit was three respawns, after that, the boss had to be taken down.

Steeling themselves, they prepared to engage.

The battle was about to begin.

This situation actually worked in Timothy’s favor, he could now pinpoint exactly which monster was the dungeon boss, and he already had a plan in mind.

Normally, the boss had to be left alive until the miners extracted the mana crystals and cleared the dungeon.

The same rule applied to the underlings; at least one had to remain alive when the boss was killed if you want to uphold the dungeon

The problem was, if the boss died while a weaker monster was left standing, that underling would often go berserk due to the metaphysical bond between them.

However, if all the underlings died later, a new boss would be randomly chosen, and that process never went well usually resulting in a suicidal rampage.

In simple terms, it was like electricity from a high-voltage transformer needing a step-down transformer before entering a household.

Without it, you risked burning the entire place down.

Of course, this wasn’t Timothy’s concern.

His contract didn’t include a share of the mined mana crystals only monetary payment.

As far as he was concerned, the only thing that mattered was making sure Gray didn’t starve.

The hunter team decided to call in the miners before proceeding.

While they were occupied, Timothy quietly distanced himself, step by step, until he was completely out of sight and then, in an instant, he vanished.

He reappeared near the kobold guards.

Instead of engaging them, he used his agility to slip through their blind spots, weaving past their positions until he reached an empty stone wall with nothing but a single fire torch mounted on it.

There were six kobold guards, none of which radiated the strength of a boss.

However, the torch seemed out of place, and there was a noticeable airflow in that direction.

If Gray had been here, he could have confirmed it, but without his companion, Timothy had to test his theory himself.

Keeping to the shadows, he pulled out a Nebulux Orb and tossed it to the ground.

A thick, suffocating smoke billowed out, obscuring everything including the torch’s light.

That was his chance.

He dashed into the smoke and pressed against the stone wall, testing its resistance.

He pushed forward but nothing.

Pulled backward still nothing.

Tried left, then right no luck.

He was running out of time.

The issue wasn’t a lack of strength but rather the wrong approach.

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦