Darkness.
Then light.
Coyote opened his eyes.
But something was wrong.
The air felt heavier. The ceiling above was cracked and stained. The stench of sweat, mold, and burnt plastic filled his lungs.
His hands... were fat. Pale. Sweaty. Fingers like sausages — trembling.
His stomach spilled over the sides of a too-small school desk. The chair creaked with every breath.
Around him were students — not nobles, not catalysts — high schoolers. Laughing. Spitting. Faces twisted with mockery.
"What a joke…"
"Why's he even here?"
"Look at him, trying to pretend he's human."
The girls sneered. The boys grinned like wolves. Someone threw a crumpled paper ball at his face. Another spat at his shirt. He tried to move. He couldn't.
Zhang Wei sat frozen, suffocating inside a body he had shed like old skin.
"You're nothing," a voice hissed.
"You'll always be nothing."
His chest tightened. His throat burned.
And just as he was about to scream—
---
He woke up.
Gasping. Sweating. Heart thundering in his chest.
Coyote sat up in bed at Lunefall Palace, lungs drinking in the cold, clean air. His hands — slim, steady. His chest — calm. No laughter. No spit. No shadows.
He was Coyote again.
A nobody... but not that nobody.
"Jobless? Maybe. But at least I'm not... him anymore."
He laid back down, staring at the ceiling.
No matter what battles lay ahead — nine Hollow Cast members, tier 3 elites, twisted palaces —
none of it scared him as much as Zhang Wei ever did.
---