Bruno gave us a lift back to HQ in the LETI-mobile. (Okay, it's technically a heavily-armored SUV with enough buttons to launch a satellite, but I still think "LETI-mobile" sounds cooler.)
"You kids did good," he said as we pulled into the underground garage. "Didn't even scream once. Better than the last group."
"Wait," I said, "people actually scream on these missions?"
Bruno grinned. "You ever seen a clown go feral in VR? Didn't think so."
Note to self: never, ever ask for more details about that.
We tumbled out of the car and stretched like we'd just finished a PE fitness test from hell. Which, technically, we had—except with fewer burpees and more goblin blood. Our gear was half-melted and covered in glittery goo, but we still strutted into the locker room like victorious superheroes. Half-naked superheroes in school-issued action uniforms, but still.
Then came the reward drop.
Turns out those weird little pink stones the goblins dropped—LETI calls them "magic shards"—are apparently super valuable for research or enchantment or quantum science-magic stuff I don't understand.
And for solving the glitchy goblin LAN party? We each got $500.
Five. Hundred. Dollars.
Now, for your average teenager, that's a full-blown jackpot. Michael and Rhea actually fist-bumped. Michael even smiled, which is like watching a rock emote. I gave them a big thumbs-up and pretended to be just as thrilled.
"Wow, five hundred bucks! So generous!" I said with a straight face.
What I didn't say: One night in the skeleton dungeon earns me twice that. Last night alone, I cleared out a pack of Level 12s and a mini-boss with dual swords and a vendetta. My system doesn't just give me XP, it gives me straight-up cash. So yeah, LETI's reward system? Cute.
After we washed the monster goo off and returned our semi-dented gear, it was time for debriefing—which mostly involved:
Michael: Nodding like a wise monk.
Rhea: Talking so fast the supervisor's keyboard started smoking.
Me: Pretending to be a clueless rookie while discreetly checking if I had any new quests.
Eventually, we were cut loose.
No detention, no demonic curses (so far), and a wallet now $500 heavier.
All in all? Not a bad night.
---
That night, I had thoughts. Yeah, I know, dangerous territory.
The next morning, I went back to grinding. Good ol' gamer grind. What's there to say, right? Walk into the dungeon, whack a few skeletons, chug a potion, rinse and repeat.
Except… no. It's not that simple.
Before all this supernatural madness, my life was boring but peaceful. I woke up, ate cereal, suffered through math class, and maybe played some video games before bed. Classic teenage mediocrity.
Now? Now I go toe-to-toe with goblins and glitch monsters and skeletons wielding actual swords. And the weirdest part? I'm not even scared.
Like, shouldn't I be terrified? Shouldn't I be curled up in a blanket burrito, whispering "nope" to the universe? But thanks to my system's suspiciously effective sleep function, I fall asleep like a baby every night. No anxiety. No nightmares. Just Zzz's.
That alone should freak me out. But nope. I just keep strategizing like I'm prepping for a tournament.
"Grind STR tonight, maybe boost Fire Resistance later. Do I need more mana potions?" Am I still human? Or just a spreadsheet with limbs?
Existential crisis: postponed.
Anyway, the emergency skeleton dungeon, my unofficial nightly Airbnb, had been popping up way more often lately. The bony boys were back in town, and while that meant sweet, sweet XP, it also meant way less sleep. Still, I usually snagged at least one level per night, two on a good run. Between the loot, potions, and random gear drops, I was starting to feel like a walking Halloween clearance sale.
Then, jackpot.
[You've obtained: Rare Leather Armor]
+20 DEF | +5 STR | +5 VIT
Finally, I didn't look like someone cosplaying as "vulnerable." Bonus: it actually fit pretty well.
But the real prize? A staff. Not just any staff, a Skeleton Mage's Staff, complete with a built-in Fireball spell like some kind of magical DLC.
Of course, I couldn't just wave it around and start blasting. I had to grind like a maniac to actually unlock the spell as my own skill. Because apparently, nothing in life or death is free.
So I did what any totally-normal, not-obsessed teenager would do: I spent the next three to four hours in the dungeon grinding like my life depended on it. Because, well… it kind of did.
And then cue the system ping.
Ding!
[You've learned a new skill: Fireball Lv. 1]
I held up the staff like it was a legendary artifact forged by flaming wizards of destiny. I might've laughed maniacally. Just a little.
Next stop: setting things on fire. Preferably not myself.
And just like that, another Monday rolled around—silent as a skeleton on tiptoes.
A single week of dungeon runs, system binges, and questionable sleep gave me +6 levels. Yep, six. I shot up from lvl 17 to lvl 23, which meant one very important thing: I was now officially level-surpassing Rhea and inching ever closer to Michael's towering lvl 29.( He got one level up.. I don't know where he got it.)
I swear I could feel my confidence swelling with each stat point. Next stop: catching up to the "Violent Healer" himself—and maybe finally beating him at arm wrestling.
This morning, the stingiest, most emotionally unavailable feature of my system, the Daily Fortune Wheel, decided to stop being a cheapskate.
It actually gave me something good.
[You received: Skill Book – Magic Shield]
Do you want to learn this skill?
Yes / No
Was that even a question?
Yes.
Double yes.
Triple yes.
Yes times infinity with sparkles.
[Magic Shield learned!]
Magic Shield (Active) – Lv. 1
Durability: 100
Effect: Blocks all kinds of attacks—physical, magical, or uncalled-for emotional damage.
Okay, maybe not that last one. But still—a real, honest-to-goodness magic shield. I could block things now. Like a boss. Combine that with fireballs, and I was officially on my way to becoming a full-fledged wizard-warrior hybrid of doom.
Take that, skeletons.
After that, my Basic Mana Manipulation skill finally hit level 7. Not gonna lie, I half expected confetti or a "Congratulations, You're a Real Mage Now!" banner to pop up. No such luck.
But something did change—I could actually feel the mana around me now. Not just see it like glowing spaghetti noodles in the air, but feel it. Like tiny little vibes humming through everything.
That night, while the skeleton dungeon loaded up like a cursed update, I sat cross-legged and focused hard. I shaped the mana in my palm, concentrated until my brain felt like microwave popcorn…
[You have created a new spell!]
Mana Arrow – Lv. 1
Because why throw hands when you can throw magic?
A glowing arrow of blue energy floated above my hand, pulsing like it had something to prove. I grinned.
Now I had fireballs and arrows.
Eat that, Gandalf.
At this point, I had to accept it—my game system was real. Not a dream, not a hallucination, not the side effect of accidentally microwaving my brain. It was real. And I was definitely not crazy. Probably.
I mean, I literally lifted a 1,000+ kg concrete slab last night just to test my Strength stat. It worked. The slab… not so much. Pretty sure it cracked in fear. Honestly, I might be a little afraid of myself too.
Stats don't lie.
But that also meant I had to start using my free stat and skill points wisely. And that was the problem—I had no clue what "wisely" looked like.
I wanted to be a spellcaster. A super Gandalf. Laser beams, magic circles, possibly a beard one day. My playstyle in every RPG ever was always the glass cannon wizard, and I wasn't about to change that now.
Only… my Mystery Boxes weren't exactly helping. They were supposed to be rare, epic-tier loot, right? My third one popped up two days ago and gave me…
[+1 Wisdom]
Yep. One. Singular. Uno.
I didn't feel wiser. I didn't start quoting philosophers or solving math without a calculator. Just one more point in a stat that mostly sits there and judges me silently.
Gear-wise, I was doing okay. Barely. My armor was basically stitched-together Halloween costume scraps that somehow gave me defense. And as for weapons?
Let's just say skeletons are stingy little jerks. They never drop decent swords or staffs. I've got a whole closet of chipped bone daggers and rusty short swords that wouldn't intimidate a garden gnome.
All I want is a nice, flashy sword. Or a badass magic staff with glowing runes and maybe a hidden flamethrower. Is that too much to ask?
Apparently, yes. Yes, it is.
...
That night, I was doing something totally heroic and life-affirming: watching anime on my PC. Hey, I can't grind every night, I have a life, you know?
Then my phone rang.
I knew that ringtone. Rhea.
"Hey, what's up?"
Her voice came through, tense. "We've got a dungeon break. At… uh, Thompson's Farm."
"What?! That's all the way on the other edge of town!"
"Yeah. Problem is, we don't know the danger level yet, and all the senior teams are stuck in other realm nodes—fighting for their lives. We've only got one C-rank squad available… and us. D and E-rank juniors."
I paused. My heart did that dumb heroic flutter thing.
"Wait… Kyle," Rhea added, "you don't have to go. It's not mandatory. We're still just trainees. No real duties yet. No privileges either, but still. We can choose our missions. But… if this breaks into the real world civilians could die. And special police forces? Might as well hand them Nerf guns."
I exhaled slowly.
"I'm coming. How about you?"
"I'm already on my way," she said. "Just… be careful, okay? Meet us there as soon as you can."
"Got it. Don't worry."
I hung up, told my mom I was going to Jimmy's place for "homework" (sorry, Mom), and slipped out the door.
I mean, how do you explain to your mom that you're off to fight possibly lethal dungeon monsters at a cursed cornfield?
Exactly. You lie and hope the world doesn't end before breakfast.
I took a taxi to Thompson's Farm—because obviously, when you're rushing into supernatural danger, public transportation is the way to go.
We stopped a few blocks away, where police had set up a blockade with blinking lights and bright yellow tape that screamed "Nothing to see here, just your average monster invasion!"
The moment I stepped out of the cab, a very serious-looking officer stepped forward, hand on his belt like he was expecting me to be a TikTok prankster.
"Hey, kid," he said. "This area's off-limits. Nasty chemical leak. Can't let you through."
Another officer chimed in, arms crossed like a human traffic cone. "Even if your family's in there, you wait here. Official orders."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my shiny new LETI license, hoping it would do the trick.
It didn't.
The first cop squinted at it. "What is this? Some kind of trading card? You playing detective or something?"
Great. I was about to be escorted back home by Officer Buzzkill and Sergeant Sass.
Then a third officer walked over—older, grayer, with a coffee cup and the kind of tired eyes that had seen things. Probably anime conventions.
"What's going on here, Paul?" he asked.
Paul (aka Officer #1) held up my license like it was a forged library card. "Kid says he's part of, uh… L-E-T-I?"
The sergeant took one glance at it—and I saw his entire face shift.
His eyes narrowed. "You're with those guys, huh?"
I nodded slowly. Was that a good "those guys" or a bad "those guys"?
He stepped aside and waved me through.
"Alright, go on. But brace yourself, kid. I heard it's real nasty in there."
Yeah, well... so is my Fireball spell.
"Cool, cool," I said, walking past.
"How nasty are we talking? Like, 'bad taco' nasty or 'tentacles from the void' nasty?"
He didn't answer.
I took that as a very bad sign and kept going.
Because obviously, when monsters break out, you send teenagers. Duh.
I slipped past the police line and into the farm like I was sneaking into a haunted corn maze. Except this one came with real monsters and zero funnel cake.
A weird mist clung to everything, thick and low like it was trying to trip me on purpose. The deeper I went, the heavier it got—like walking through a humidifier set to "evil."
Then I saw it. A goblin.
[Green Goblin – Lv. 7 – (Invader)]
Alone, it wasn't much. A few weeks ago, it would've been a nightmare. Now? Just another XP delivery system on legs.
But of course, goblins don't do solo acts.
Ten more oozed out of the crops behind it, snarling and hissing like angry lawn gnomes with rabies. They were wrecking everything—stomping crops, clawing at fences, just being chaotic little gremlins. One spotted me and gave a loud screech, alerting the rest.
Cute. They thought I was the prey.
I pulled my trusty baseball bat from my inventory. My armor was already equipped—because nothing says "farm chic" like goblin-slaying leather.
Sixty seconds and a few bruises later, the field was a goblin-free zone.
The mist didn't let up, but I kept going. Eventually, I reached a run-down wooden farmhouse. One story. Windows cracked. Something moved inside—quick and twitchy.
I raised my bat, again.
Round two was calling.
.....
I tiptoed into the farmhouse, my newly cleaned socks (blessed with a majestic +5 stealth) working overtime to muffle every creaky floorboard. It would've been almost funny, sneaking around like a cartoon burglar, if not for what I found inside.
The place was trashed—furniture broken, walls smeared, and the air thick with the kind of silence that feels wrong. The mist had followed me in too, curling around my feet like it wanted front-row seats for whatever horror show was about to unfold.
And then I saw them.
A family. Or what was left of one.
The father lay by the door, skull cracked by what looked like a goblin club. The mother was farther in—lifeless, torn, her injuries… bad. Bad enough that even my gamer-brain couldn't turn it into numbers. And her clothes were gone.
I didn't need a stat panel to figure out what happened.
And then… the kid.
Barely five. Bloodied, unmoving, sprawled like a broken doll.
I froze. My breath caught, and the world… tilted.
That's when the system pinged.
[Deep Hatred Detected]
You have awakened a new skill: Berserk (Lv. 1)
+50% Strength and Stamina
+25% Dexterity
+10% Defense
Duration: 5 minutes
Side Effect: -20% Strength & Stamina for 30 minutes after expiration
It didn't feel like a bonus. It felt like a scream.
Everything inside me, fear, guilt, fury, boiled over. My fingers tightened around the bat. My vision sharpened, narrowed, burned.
If there were any goblins left in this place, they weren't ready.
Because I wasn't a trainee anymore.
I was the nightmare now.
There were nine goblins inside. Two were already down, courtesy of the family's final stand. The rest were poking around like they owned the place, smashing plates and laughing in their creepy gremlin way.
They didn't even hear me coming.
One minute later, they were all very, very dead.
[Loot acquired!]
[Soul Shard x9]
[Goblin Club (Cracked)]
[Torn Goblin Hood (Smells bad)]
Yeah, yeah. Great. I didn't even stop to look. The system could throw fireworks and parade floats and I wouldn't have cared. I vaulted out the back door, rage still surging through my veins like lava.
Another farmhouse. Not far. And I could hear the noise—screams, goblin cackling, wood splintering.
I ran.
By the time I got there, twelve more goblins were wrecking the place like they were auditioning for some post-apocalyptic cooking show.
Too bad for them, I was still in Berserk Mode.
I didn't pause. Didn't breathe. I launched into the middle of the chaos like an angry RPG character with no cooldowns.
A bat cracked against a goblin skull. Fireball slammed two more into the wall. I grabbed one by the ankle and threw it through a window, didn't even know I could do that.
Blood, screams, and stat boosts blurred together in a storm of motion and fury.
I didn't stop until every last one hit the ground.
And even then… I wanted more.
Then I heard it...
A scream.
Not a goblin war cry. Not the death scream of something I just clobbered. A real, human scream.
Survivor.
I sprinted like my sneakers were on fire, hopping over fences and ruined flower beds until I reached the next farmhouse. And there, just ahead, I saw her. A girl, maybe my age, maybe younger, running for her life.
And behind her?
A monster.
[Hobgoblin – Lv. 30]
Bright red skin. Nearly two meters tall. Arms like tree trunks and tusks like someone cosplayed as an orc and went way too hard.
It wasn't chasing her.
It was playing with her. Like a cat pawing at a mouse, watching it squirm before the pounce.
I saw red. (Ironically.)
No plan. No pause.
I charged in like a hot-headed anime protagonist and hurled a Fireball straight at its smug, tusked face.
The Hobgoblin dodged.
Of course it did. It was Level 30 and probably had better reaction time than I did on caffeine and anxiety.
But it looked at me now.
Good. I had its attention.
Now what, genius?
....
Kyle Walker (Lv. 23 )
HP: 460/460
MP: 380/380
SP: 460/460
Stats:
STR: 48 (+5 from Great Sun Inner Energy) (+3 from Arm Guard) ( 56 )
VIT: 28 (+3 from Arm Guard, +5 from Great Sun Inner Energy) ( 36 )
DEX: 42 (+1 from Title ) ( 43 )
INT: 28
WIS: 28
LUK: 30
Unassigned Stat Points: 94
Unassigned Skill Points: 112
Att: 66
Def: 36
Eva: 43