Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

After waiting in line for several minutes, Max finally stepped forward as the line in front of him thinned out. The woman at the desk glanced up as he approached and reached for the two items he had chosen.

She carefully scanned the titles engraved in ancient script on their bindings—Heaven-Piercing Thunderclap Sword, a sword technique pulsing faintly with thunderous energy, and Black Devouring Claw, a fearsome combat skill that seemed to radiate a dark, consuming aura. Her fingers danced swiftly across the crystal console in front of her before she looked up.

”Heaven-Piercing Thunderclap Sword technique and Black Devouring Claw skill... a total of seven hundred PQs,” she said in a calm, measured tone.

Max gave a faint nod, unfazed by the price. He raised his hand and tapped a few times on his holowatch. Instantly, a circular pattern resembling a digital QR code emerged in the air, composed of countless tiny floating runes spinning slowly in a clockwise motion.

The woman arched an eyebrow slightly, clearly recognizing this as a high-grade transaction pattern—something only used by individuals whose accounts were verified at the top level or a one time transaction pattern she had seen on many geniuses.

Without a word, she held up a sleek silver scanner and passed it over the circular code. The scanner beeped once and flashed green.

”Transaction verified. You’re good to go,” she said with a polite smile that softened her otherwise expressionless face.

Max nodded without saying anything. He tucked the two scrolls under his arm, turned around, and walked steadily toward the specialized exit gate of the Empire Library.

In the Great Ruler Empire, nothing came free—not techniques, not skills, not even treasures. Everything had a price, and that price was PQ, the common currency used throughout the entire Middle Domain.

Whether one desired to obtain a powerful technique or purchase a rare artifact, all that mattered was having enough PQ. This system of exchange ensured order and value, allowing every resource to circulate among those worthy enough to earn it.

But the real challenge wasn’t spending PQ—it was earning it. And for most, the primary path to accumulating PQ was by completing missions issued by the Great Ruler Empire itself.

The Great Ruler Domain, which comprised nearly twenty vast and diverse regions surrounding the Greenwood Region, was immense.

With such size came endless responsibilities. Countless towns, cities, and provinces operated under the empire’s influence, and naturally, countless problems arose every day—ranging from rogue beasts and bandits to disputes, resource guarding, and border patrols.

To maintain control and ensure peace, the empire regularly issued missions across the entire domain. These missions served a dual purpose: they helped the empire govern its territory efficiently, and they also trained the young geniuses under its banner, sharpening their skills and testing their resolve in real-world situations.

But not every mission could be taken by just anyone. The missions themselves were categorized into 1-star, 2-star, and 3-star levels—mirroring the star rankings of the geniuses within the empire.

A 1-star genius could only accept 1-star missions, no matter how strong they believed themselves to be. This ranking system ensured that geniuses wouldn’t bite off more than they could chew, and it kept competition fierce.

Advancement through these ranks was not just a matter of pride; it directly affected one’s ability to grow stronger, gather PQ, and rise through the empire’s hierarchy.

And that was where the true value of star status came into play—more than just a title, it was the key to resources, power, and progression.

After Max walked out of the Empire Library, the warm sunlight greeted him—but so did an unpleasant surprise.

Before he could take more than a few steps, three young men appeared from the side of the grand staircase and casually blocked his path. They weren’t in a rush, nor were they trying to hide their presence.

Max’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took a glance at them. Peak of Master Rank—all three. He could tell by the stable flow of mana around their bodies and the faint oppressive aura they carried, like wolves circling prey.

One of them, a tall man with narrow eyes and a cold expression, stepped forward. ”Are you the new member who apparently not only got the status of a 1-star genius but also got the privilege to take any one technique, skill, and a treasure? Max Morgan?” His voice was sharp, almost impatient.

Max raised his brow, slightly surprised but composed, and gave a simple nod. ”Yeah, I’m that person.”

Another of the trio, shorter but broader in frame and with a mocking smirk, chuckled. ”Good. Great Ruler Empire might seem like a safe place, but let me give you a piece of advice—if you don’t have enough strength, you won’t even know when or how you’ll die.” His tone was light, but the threat beneath it was crystal clear.

Then he gestured to himself and his companions. ”We follow Danzun—ranked number 10 in the 1-star rankings. Thanks to that, we don’t need to worry about anything in the 1-star sector. Nobody dares mess with us. And today, you’re in luck. We’re offering you the same protection.”

His grin widened as he leaned in slightly. ”Just give us the one-time transaction code for the reward you claimed. In return, you’ll be protected under Danzun’s name. Simple deal, right?”

Max stared at them for a moment, stunned not by the threat but by the sheer audacity. They were trying to rob him in broad daylight, right outside the Empire Library, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Worse, they acted like they were doing him a favor—as if he was supposed to be grateful for this so-called offer.

”What the hell?! Are you guys stupid or what?!” Max suddenly blurted out, laughing out loud as if he’d just heard the best joke of his life. There was no trace of fear or hesitation in his voice—just genuine amusement.

The situation struck him as so absurd, so laughably pathetic, that he couldn’t help but burst into a chuckle. These three thought they were doing him a favor by robbing him iHeaven-Piercing Thunderclap Sword protection?

It was ridiculous. But his laughter didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, the little commotion immediately began drawing attention.

More and more members of the 1-star sector who had been nearby turned to look at the scene unfolding just outside the Empire Library. Murmurs quickly filled the air.

”Yet another newbie is being preyed on by Garp, Hank, and Lewis.”

”They’re the worst trio in the 1-star sector, always using Danzun’s name to extort new members.”

”Well, what can anyone do? Danzun is ranked tenth in the 1-star rankings. No one wants to offend someone that high up.”

”Top ten in the rankings are all monsters. You go against one and you’re signing your death sentence.”

”Poor guy. He’s just 8th level of Expert Rank. How long do you think he’ll last here before they drain him dry?”

Voices whispered all around, and most of them held a tone of pity. Some even looked at Max as if already mourning the fate he was bound to suffer—just another fresh recruit to be bullied, stripped of everything, and left broken by the unspoken hierarchy of the 1-star sector.

It had happened before. It would happen again. In their eyes, Max was simply the next name on that long, miserable list.