When Noah Vale stepped into the central hub, he slowed to a casual walk, taking it all in with quiet curiosity.
Light flared and faded across the vast plaza as figures appeared and vanished without warning. People drifted in loose currents, some hurrying with purpose, others lingering like tourists in a place that didn't quite belong to reality.
Above it all stretched a golden veil, suspended like a second sky. With a single thought, Noah brushed his awareness against it, and the surface rippled open—revealing a sprawling catalog of worlds.
He skimmed through them.
Sword-and-steel realms. Titan-infested wastelands. Nightmarish domains where humanity barely clung to survival.
There were rules, though. The system made that clear without spelling it out in cold numbers. Worlds were tiered by average power. The stronger you were, the fewer places you could enter. No one wanted high-level players dropping into weaker worlds just to stomp everything flat.
That left Noah with only a handful of viable options.
As he wandered the plaza, his unhurried demeanor drew attention.
Newcomer, people assumed. The wide-eyed look gave it away. But then there was his appearance—long hair, composed posture, and an ease that didn't match someone fresh off their first mission. It didn't add up.
"Hey, man. First time here?"
A thin, sharp-faced guy slipped up beside him with a grin that tried a little too hard.
Noah nodded.
"Knew it. You've got that 'just turned eighteen and escaped strict parents' vibe." The man chuckled. "Listen, I know the best places to unwind around here. Red-light district, top tier. I'll show you around. First time's on me. Think of it as a welcome gift."
Noah gave him a long, mildly puzzled look.
So that's the angle.
The guy had probably mistaken him for someone important—maybe the kid of a high-ranking player—and was trying to latch on early.
"Appreciate it," Noah said politely, lifting a hand in refusal. "But I've got something to take care of."
The man didn't push. Just shrugged and flashed a knowing smile. "Suit yourself. Offer stands."
Noah moved on, stepping out of the denser crowd as the noise of conversation washed over him.
"Did you hear? A level-twelve item sold yesterday. Insane price."
"Level twelve? That's way beyond anything on the rankings. Who could even afford that?"
"No clue. Rumor is Russia pooled resources—reward points, side objectives, everything. Still got it cheap, all things considered."
"…That good?"
"It's Pym Particles."
That caught Noah's attention.
As he walked, he pieced together the structure of this place.
Everyone here had been pulled in from Earth—adults, from every nation. Old power structures hadn't disappeared. They'd just evolved. Countries still mattered, but now individual strength could outweigh entire institutions.
Once someone hit a certain level, they stopped being a citizen and started being a force.
Take Russia's top player, for example. Level six. Unofficial ruler. No crown, no title—but everyone knew who held the real authority.
And now…
Noah's arrival had quietly shifted the rankings. Everyone below twelfth place had dropped a position overnight.
Naturally, that had people nervous.
"National factions, powered by individual monsters," Noah murmured to himself. "Interesting setup."
He kept wandering.
The place wasn't as tense as he'd expected. No looming pressure. No constant urgency.
Because the system didn't force participation.
Once you cleared your first mission, you could… stop. Stay here forever if you wanted.
Of course, that came with consequences.
Fall behind long enough, and sooner or later, someone stronger would step on you without even noticing.
The system didn't punish laziness.
It just made sure reality did.
After a while, Noah circled back to the mission plaza.
Time to get started.
He looked up again, filtering through the available worlds.
There weren't many.
Grand Line World — 43/50
Phantom Legends World — 23/40
Heroes vs Monsters World — 54/55
Mythic Eastern Spirits World — 45/60
His gaze settled on the third option.
One slot left.
Convenient.
A prompt flickered through his mind.
Reincarnator #13 requests entry into "Heroes vs Monsters World" for initial mission.
Participant threshold reached. Entry approved.
Loading mission briefing…
The world tilted.
Gravity slipped sideways.
Then—
Information poured in.
A wealthy man named Agoni had funded the creation of the Hero Association, inspired by a nameless savior who had once rescued his grandson.
As monsters grew stronger and more frequent, humanity needed defenders.
Heroes were ranked by strength and public contribution: S, A, B, C.
Monsters were classified by threat level: Wolf, Tiger, Demon, Dragon, God.
Reincarnators were free to choose their path.
Protect.
Or destroy.
Main Objective: Choose a side.
Requirement: Within ten days, either join the Hero Association or become a wanted target.
Reward: Access to this world's power system.
"So that's the setup," Noah said softly.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself inside a large, enclosed room.
Fifty-five people.
Every single one of them… strange.
Some wore armor. Others had mutated features. A few radiated power so dense it felt like standing near a live wire.
For now, though, everyone stayed quiet, absorbed in processing the mission.
Until one man spoke.
He stood out immediately—his body encased in mechanical armor, parts of it humming faintly with energy.
"You," the man said, locking eyes with Noah. "Who are you? I've never heard of you before."
That broke the silence.
Dozens of gazes turned.
He wasn't wrong.
Entry into this world required a minimum level. Anyone who qualified should've already been known across the major factions.
A stranger didn't fit.
Unless—
A thought spread through the room like a ripple.
Noah smiled faintly.
"My ranking is thirteen," he said, voice calm. "If anyone here outranks me, feel free to stand. I'd like to see who I should be paying attention to."
A pause.
Then he added, almost casually—
"Actually, is number one here? I'd prefer to start with them."
The atmosphere shifted.
Eyes flicked toward the corner of the room.
There, a massive, heavily muscled man sat in silence.
And just like that, the air grew heavier.