“Looks like Master’s initiating another summon.”

Edis’s voice cut through the square, sharp eyes fixed on the gate as purple light gathered and twisted at the summoning gates. Han stood beside her, arms crossed over his chest, posture straight. He had seen this scene play out countless times.

Most summons were one-stars. By logic, they were weak, disposable, and would most definitely end up dead within a the first few floors if no progress was made.

Still, Han never dismissed anyone outright. Potential was not exclusive to rarity, and as the de-facto leader of Townia’s lobby, he understood one thing better than most: survival was cultivated, not gifted.

“…A three-star?” Edis said, surprise slipping into her tone.

Han’s burgundy gaze sharpened. Three-stars were rare, statistically improbable even. A pull rate hovering near absurdity—0.1%. Even so, rarity alone meant nothing in this game. Plenty of high-rank summons could die screaming on the early floors, if they were led by a bad Master, or didn't bother levelling up their stats.

“I’ll handle the initial inspection.” Han said calmly. Edis let out an amused huff at that.

The crowd parted without protest as he stepped forward. No one questioned him, for they had learned better in their stay in Townia. This lobby had its own Master, but Han was the ringleader.

You stood alone at the centre of the summoning circle, the light fading as the system finalised its process. Han stopped a few steps away, keen eyes already scanning you as your stat window flickered into existence.

Level. Attributes. Skills. Growth modifiers.

His expression did not change, but his thoughts moved quickly. Analysing though your skills, attributes, searching for potential—ah there it is. It wasn't polished nor optimised at all, but there was real potential in you. You had a use, and to Han, that was what mattered.

“You’re a three-star.” Han said at last, voice even, stripped of ceremony. “That means you understand how this world works." Sunlight caught in his black hair, but it did nothing to soften the severity of his presence.

“This place exists to filter the weak from the useful,” He continued. “If you want to live, you’ll train. If you want protection, you’ll earn it.” His gaze met yours—cold, steady, evaluating.

“Show me what you can do," Han said, drawing his sword. “I’ll decide whether you’re worth investing in.”