So it all started... what, seventy years back? When the first Gates just... showed up.
Nobody really knows what the hell caused them. Could've been natural, some weird space-time hiccup, or maybe we screwed something up, you know how humans are with technology. Always poking at things they shouldn't. Though there's this other theory... that something old was sleeping and we woke it up. Maybe it's a God? Well, that's a terrifying thought.
Anyway, these Gates, they're basically tears in reality. Just rips that connect our world to... somewhere else. And inside of these motherf*ckers? Complete and utter madness. Forests growing where there's no sun, ruins just floating in midair like gravity forgot how to work, entire ecosystems that make zero sense... well, it does, but who cares.
The thing is, they didn't just sit there looking pretty.
Monsters came through, and yes, unfortunately, theres a lot of them. The First Dungeon Break — that's what they call it in the history books now, all clinical and neat. But it wasn't neat, like at all. Cities turned into hunting grounds overnight, millions was dead before anyone even figured out what was happening. Entire regions just... gone.
But here's where it gets weird. The early explorers — crazy bastards, really — they found these things called Relics inside the Gate. Cores of pure energy that somehow kept the whole mess stable. And these cores, they had... data, and it was definitely not humans that created this sh*t. It was like finding a computer program written in a language you'd never seen but somehow your brain could still read.
The data could sync with people, like actually change them. Making them stronger, faster, harder to kill, and suddenly, you could survive in those nightmarish landscapes.
Governments got involved eventually, of course they did. Then started studying the relics, trying to figure out how they worked. And what they found... well, it became everything. The raw interface was a mess though, it was unstable and dangerous.
So they... cleaned it up. Sanitized it, one could say. Stripped out anything they didn't understand, which was probably most of it. What was left got packaged into something they called the World Hunter System, which sounds official, doesn't it? Like they actually knew what they were doing.
Now anyone can take an Awakening test, get ranked, train in simulations, clear dungeons for a living. It's all very organized. The ranks go from FFF — basically useless — all the way up to SSS, which is... well, there's maybe five people in the world at that level.
And it's become this massive indlevel, the Gates do still appear randomly, but now? Now they're treated like oil wells, each one's a resource to be managed, controlled, exploited. Cities built around them.
Even an E-rank hunter can make decent money. S-ranks become celebrities overnight, magazine covers, endorsement deals, and more importantly, being f*cking rich. And SSS ranks? They're basically living weapons.
But here's the thing that bugs people... nobody really completely understands the System. There are these rumors floating around, like some people think the relics weren't even meant for humans in the first place.
Which is... rather unsettling.
But most people don't care about that stuff. They just want their shot, touch the Awakening Crystal, see what rank pops up. It's hope, you know? Even if that hope has claws and wants to eat your face.
One might be asking, "Why are you dumping these informations to me?"
Well, it unfortunately connects to one dumbass in particular, or it was just an info dump.
***
Lanz Kuroda woke up from a nap that was just getting good, the kind that made your neck ache but left your brain feeling like you'd floated somewhere nicer for a few precious minutes. The light from the setting sun slipped through the dusty glass panels of the public awakening center and landed right across his face like an insult he didn't need today. He let out a low groan, pressed the back of his hand to his eyes, and muttered, "Ugh… rude."
He forced himself upright on the narrow bench tucked into the corner of the room, stretching until his spine popped in two different places. A few people standing in the main line turned their heads just long enough to notice the half-asleep kid with the ragged hoodie and the shoes that flapped like tired sandals. He ignored them completely, maybe because he'd learned to, or maybe he just didn't have the energy to pretend to care. Yeah that's probably it.
The place was packed tight, a sea of wannabe hunters lined up in ragged queues near the center of the hall. There, on a spotless pedestal that looked like someone polished it twice an hour, stood the so-called Awakening Crystal — the gleaming hunk of relic that decided who got to be someone and who'd be mopping up after them. A half-dozen staff in matching blue jackets milled around the crystal, moving people forward, scanning IDs, explaining the same lines for the thousandth time. And floating above it all was a small camera drone, its lens blinking red as it streamed the whole scene to whoever was bored enough to watch an Awakening test on a weekday evening.
Lanz rubbed his stomach under his hoodie sleeve, letting out another yawn that sounded like it came from his bones. He shifted his feet a little, the soles of his shoes flapping against the tile in a sad little rhythm. They were about three more days from fully falling apart, but he didn't have the money to care, and besides, if he was here, he might as well see what rank the universe had decided to slap across his forehead. If he was lucky, he'd get a D. If he was unlucky, well, life had already covered that.
"Next!"
The voice jolted him. He turned his head to see one of the staff by the pedestal calling him forward. The poor woman looked like she'd been awake for three days straight, the bags under her eyes was deep enough to hide snacks in. Lanz raised a limp hand in response. "That's me."
He pushed himself up, shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket, and made his way to the front of the line, passing a pair of guys who did a half-assed job pretending not to whisper behind their hands.
But he just ignored them and planted his feet in front of the Awakening Crystal.
"Place your hand on the crystal and hold it there until the System completes your scan," the staff member said, her voice robotic in that way you only get when you've said the same line five hundred times in one shift.
"Sure," Lanz said, deadpan. "And do I get a cool animation if I roll high?"
She didn't even blink.
He sighed, placed his palm flat against the crystal, and immediately felt the chill run through his fingers like he'd dipped them into freezer-burned meat.
[Initializing...]
[System Syncing...]
[Analyzing genetic potential...]
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
[Rank: FFF]
[Status: Unfit for Combat. System Lockout Engaged.]
Then the snickers started, a guy near the back let out a sharp chuckle, a voice followed, "Bro rolled triple F."
"That's crazy..."
Lanz lifted his hand, the frost-bitten feeling still clinging to his skin, and gave a small, ridiculous bow to the cheap applause. "Thank you, thank you. But unfortunately, I'll not be here all week."
A couple people laughed, mostly the kind that didn't know what else to do with the awkwardness. One guy actually clapped, the sound ringing out all sad and slow.
Lanz didn't let the grin slip off his face until he'd turned away. He could feel the hollow buzz in his chest, but he'd expected it — better that than pretending it still stung. He walked back to the bench, grabbed his faded bag from under the seat, and swung it over his shoulder. Someone else was already stepping up. The next guy looked like he'd stepped out of an idol contest, bright dyed hair, flawless skin, tiny silver hoops dangling from both ears.
The Awakening Crystal lit up like a rave the second he touched it.
[Rank: A]
[Status: Elite Combatant. System Sync Complete.]
The tiny crowd exploded into cheers. Even the drone above did a quick pivot to catch his grin on a better angle.
"Of course the idol-looking guy gets a high rank," Lanz muttered to himself, letting the sarcasm cushion the echo of the laughter still buzzing in his ear. He pushed through the side door, one foot flapping on the cracked step like a sad drumbeat.
Outside, the street was already alive with that end-of-day shuffle — stalls wheeled out and parked under leaning awnings, the smell of frying oil fighting with the sting of fresh steam rice, people yelling half-prices and day-end deals. Kids ran loose, paper windmills clutched in sticky fingers, nearly wiping out on the chipped pavement as they weaved around the legs of parents half-watching them.
Lanz pulled his hoodie tighter around his shoulders, hands shoved deep in the pockets. This stretch of the city smelled like hot concrete, car exhaust, old rain in clogged gutters, but underneath all that it smelled like something he'd never admit out loud, it was home. It was exhaustion, depression, and the ghost of other people's dreams layered over his, but for now that was enough.
A squeaking pushcart rolled by, its wheels squealing for mercy. The vendor behind it was shouting about fried tofu, bragging it was the best in the district. Lanz knew the truth that it smelled better than it tasted, but his fingers rubbed against the coins in his pocket anyway. Five credits wouldn't cover tofu, it barely covers hope.
He drifted past a group of kids gathered around a battered tablet propped up on an overturned crate. They were watching a dungeon highlight reel about some blurry feed of a solo S-rank finishing a swamp boss, flames bursting three stories high as a massive centipede split apart.
"Did you see that S-rank guy solo the boss?" one kid said, eyes huge. "He used a triple flame burst and everything exploded!"
Lanz snorted a faint smile. "Triple flame burst, huh. Must be nice."
Eventually, his feet carried him off the main drag, into the piece of the neighborhood nobody bragged about. The buildings leaned on each other like drunks trying not to fall.
He paused in front of a tiny stall wedged under a flickering sign that said: "Relics, Cheap And Probably Not Cursed." Behind the stained counter sat an old man, cigarette dangling from cracked lips, chopsticks halfway through a cup of instant noodles. The display was an insult to treasure hunters everywhere — chipped clay statues, cheap bangles, and what might've been a holy grail in a past life if the holy grail looked like a pink plastic hotdog thingy. "What even is this?" asked Lanz. Caressing the tip of the plastic hotdog.
"You don't wanna know," said the old man. "Also, don't touch it like."
Lanz let go of the plastic hotdog, and looked around.
But one thing caught Lanz's eye, a coin-sized crystal with a hairline fracture running right down the middle. It barely caught the lamplight, but it did shimmer just enough to pretend it was special.
"How much for this one?" Lanz asked, pointing with the calm of someone who already knew the answer.
The old man barely glanced up. "Five credits. Heals depression or gives you depression. Who's to say."
"Perfect," Lanz said, handing over the last of his money without even counting it. He pocketed the crystal like it was a winning lottery ticket and headed for home, one foot still flapping on the sidewalk as the sun dipped behind the cramped skyline.
---
His neighborhood squatted above an old laundromat, a building so worn down it looked like it was only still standing out of sheer stubbornness. He took the stairs two at a time, boots scuffing the faded numbers painted onto the concrete. The door to unit 3B stuck just enough that he had to knock twice before pushing it open.
"I'm home," he called out, voice halfway between a sigh and a promise.
The smell of garlic rice and cheap cooking oil wrapped around him like a blanket. From the tiny kitchen came the familiar clang of pots, his mom's voice drifting over the steam. "Lanz? Wash your hands! Dinner's almost ready!"
"On it."
He kicked off his battered shoes, dropped his bag next to the dented fridge, and let the warmth of the apartment settle over his shoulders. It wasn't much, but it was warm, and for now that was everything.
His dad sat on the floor, screwdriver in one hand, fiddling with an old electric fan that rattled every time it spun. "Did you awaken yet?" he asked without looking up.
Lanz shrugged, wiping his hands on a rag. "Yup."
"What rank?"
"E, it's nothing exciting."
"Still better than F," his older brother Kaz muttered from the corner, where he was folding a tower of mismatched laundry. He didn't even look up as he added, "…Or triple F."
Lanz forced out a chuckle. "Yeah, imagine being that guy."
From behind him, his little sister Miku bounded forward, grabbing his hand like it was a winning ticket. "Do you get a weapon now? Can I name it?"
"If it's a spoon, sure."
She scrunched her nose. "That's not a real weapon!"
"Tell that to Mom when she's cooking."
"Touche. She do be cooking"
They gathered around the scratched kitchen table, the same table they'd been eating at since forever. Dinner was as simple as it got — rice, eggs, a bit of fried fish leftover from the day before. Miku led grace like she was the commander of a very small, very hungry army, and for a few precious minutes the world outside didn't exist. Lanz smiled through a mouthful of rice, letting the hum of his family's conversation wrap around him like a spell.
After the plates were scraped clean, Lanz washed dishes with Kaz drying beside him, the two of them moving in the clumsy, practiced rhythm that only siblings knew. Kaz stacked the plates with care, the rickety cupboard rattling as it took the weight.
"So what now?" Kaz asked.
"Now?" Lanz shrugged, flicking a few drops of water at his brother's face. "I sleep, dream of being overpowered, and wake up still broke."
"Dream big, huh?"
"Always."
Their dad piped up from the couch, fiddling with the same fan that definitely wasn't going to make it through the summer. "You should apply for civilian support gigs. The Hunter Association always needs runners, porters, the grunt jobs."
"Yeah, I was thinking about it," Lanz said, lying through his teeth but letting the lie settle like a pillow over the hard edges of truth.
Later that night, Miku wandered into his room with her favorite blanket draped around her shoulders and a glass of water balanced precariously in one hand. She plopped down beside him on the squeaky mattress.
"What's up?" he asked.
"You look like you're about to commit something stupid, so I, your beautiful sister, will keep you alive. More or less." Her voice was sleepy, eyes already drooping.
He scooted over. "Yeah, sure. Deluxe cardboard mattress is open for business."
"It's not cardboard."
"Tell that to my back."
She giggled, settled in beside him, and was snoring within minutes. Lanz lay there, staring at the stained ceiling, listening to the quiet creaks of the old building. It wasn't fair, none of it was, but for now, with Miku's soft breathing next to him, it felt almost enough.
When he was sure she was fully out, Lanz slipped out from under the blanket as carefully as he could. He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the cracked crystal. Under the glow of his desk lamp, it looked even more worthless than before.
"Let's see if you're even good for a light show," he muttered, pressing it against the ancient interface pad bolted to the corner of his desk.
But still nothing, not even a flicker.
Lanz leaned back in his chair, eyes heavy. "Yeah, didn't think so."
And then, like the universe had a sick sense of timing, the crystal pulsed once. His HUD flickered to life with a weird, gray-tinted overlay.
[BOOTING…]
[DEAD SYSTEM
USER DETECTED: LANZ KURODA
ALT ACCOUNT FOUND.
SYNCING…
LAUNCHING SIMULATION MODE…]
A flash of light swallowed his vision. When it faded, he wasn't sitting at his wobbly desk anymore. He was standing in a white room so empty it made his teeth itch.
"…What the hell?"
A soft mechanical chime echoed in the blank space.
[WELCOME TO TRAINING SIMULATION]
[SELECT LOADOUT]
A basic menu floated in front of him.
"No way this is real," Lanz whispered.
He scrolled down the list.
[Sword.
Dagger.
Staff.
Bow.
Unarmed.]
He picked sword, just to see.
A plain iron blade blinked into his hand, surprisingly heavy, the balance not perfect but real enough. Before he could even process the weight, a training dummy fell from the ceiling with a sad mechanical thunk and charged at him.
Lanz swung on reflex.
THUNK.
The dummy slammed into the wall, showering sparks like cheap confetti.
A notification popped up in bright text:
[+1 STR +1 AGI +5 EXP]
He stared at it for half a second, then felt the slow grin spread across his face.
"Okay… this might be something."
End of Chapter 1