The cold plastic chair did nothing to ease the crushing weight on Ren's chest. The choking stench of antiseptics mixed with the smell of slow death filling the room.
He watched his grandfather's chest rise. Fall. Shudder. The heart monitor beeped—a weak, broken noise. It sounded like it was saying goodbye to life with every pulse.
Ren pressed the cracked phone against his ear. He gripped it hard enough to snap it in half.
"Elena... are we still hanging out tomorrow?"
Silence. Heavy, awkward silence before her reply came.
"I don't think so, Ren." Her tone was completely dry. "My dad insists on prepping me for the elite guilds right after the Awakening."
Ren swallowed hard. A bitter, stinging taste flooded his throat.
"I'm hoping to get a strong class tomorrow. Maybe we'll end up in the same guild."
"Sure." She let out a fake, cold sigh. "How's your grandpa?"
Ren stared at the frail body in front of him. His grandfather wasn't just some old man. He used to be a powerhouse—a Rank-C Warrior.
But a lethal poison deep in the Fallen Lands changed everything. His guild abandoned him. The Association tossed him out onto the street like rusted scrap.
"The same." His voice choked up for a second before his jaw tightened. "The meds are way too expensive. I'll figure it out somehow. See you tomorrow."
He hung up. He buried his face in his rough hands.
The next morning, the Association's plaza was boiling with people.
This was where your fate got sealed. You either lived as a respected human inside the Safe Barrier, or died as a stray dog outside it.
Ren stood at the back of the massive line. The midday sun scorched his neck.
Elena didn't stand in any line. Her father's guards cleaved a path for her straight through the crowd, heading right for the black Awakening Stone in the center.
The crowd held its breath. She placed her pale hand on the stone.
Whoosh!
A blinding crimson light exploded.
"Elena Vance!" the examiner screamed, his eyes practically popping out of his skull. "Class: Mage! Rank: S!"
The plaza went absolutely insane. Screaming. Clapping. An S-Rank Mage? A national treasure walking on two legs was just born.
Elena turned around. Her eyes met Ren's at the back of the crowd.
She didn't smile. Her look was flat, cold, and empty.
That look told him everything. Her dad was right. He was trash, and she was a star. She turned her back and never looked behind her again.
Ren gripped his fists until his nails dug into his flesh. Dammit. Why is this world so filthy and rigged against us?
Hours crawled by. Rank-D warriors. Rank-E mages. Nothing worth mentioning.
"Next!"
Ren dragged his heavy feet. He slapped his scarred palm onto the freezing stone.
The stone pulsed. It flickered with a pathetic gray light.
The examiner curled his lip like he'd just stepped on a bug.
"Ren! Class: Summoner! Rank: F!"
Dead silence choked the plaza for a second. Then, the line erupted into cruel, hysterical laughter.
"An F-Rank Summoner? What's he gonna summon, a cockroach?"
"Just another extra mouth wasting the Safe Zone's air!"
Ren froze in place. "Sir, please. Can I just tr—"
"Move, trash!" The examiner shoved him hard in the chest.
Ren hit his knees on the rough gravel. His skin tore open.
The Quest Department. The final dumping ground for the system's rejects.
The receptionist tossed a cheap copper badge. It slid across the table.
"Welcome," she droned. "As an F-Rank, your job is a 'Porter'. You'll gather leftover monster guts behind the real hunters."
Before his hand could even reach the badge, a massive palm slammed onto the desk.
A giant man with an ugly scar splitting his face grinned down at him. His smile looked like an open wound.
"Listen close, kid." The man spat his words. "The wall doesn't protect the weak for free. Pay the protection tax in monster cores, or we'll throw you out to the Fallen Lands."
He chucked a crumpled paper into Ren's lap. "Your first quest. Mandatory."
Ren's fingers shook as he opened it.
[Mandatory Quest: Exterminate 20 F-Rank Goblins] [Location: Zone Z47]
This was a straight-up execution. An uncontracted summoner ordered to kill twenty goblins? They just wanted him dead.
He shoved the paper into his pocket. He turned and walked toward the exit gates.
Zone Z47. The weakest zone, but still a graveyard for guys like him.
The second he crossed the massive steel gates, everything changed. The fresh air died. The stench of rot and old blood clogged his nose.
He barely took ten steps.
Snap!
A dry branch cracked. Ren's head jerked up.
A twisted shadow lunged from the dead bushes. A green goblin. Starving red eyes. Foul saliva dripped from its yellow fangs.
The blood froze in Ren's veins. His heart hammered his ribs like crazy. He had no weapon. No beast. Nothing.
The goblin dove straight for his throat.
Its filthy claws were inches away from shredding his skin.
Then, time stopped.
A bright blue screen smashed into his vision. A cold, yet sweet female voice rang inside his skull.
[Warning: Lethal Threat Approaching.]
[Despair Conditions Met.]
[Activating Hidden Trait...]
[Welcome. The 'Cosmic Furnace' has been successfully initialized.]