Kaito sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment. The weight of the day clung to him like a heavy shroud; his slouched shoulders and sluggish steps told of an exhausting routine. As he turned the key and pushed the door open, something felt off. The lock was damaged, and a faint creak came from inside.
“What the hell...?” he muttered, his brows furrowing as his senses heightened.
Before he could react, a shadow darted out from a dark corner. A man with his face covered by a ski mask shoved him forcefully. Kaito fell backward, hitting his head against the edge of the table. A sharp pain throbbed in his skull as he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his blurred vision.
“Ugh...!” he groaned weakly, clutching his head. His gaze wavered upward and landed on three more figures, all dressed the same, their faces concealed by ski masks. One of them, a stocky man, moved, and in that moment, Kaito caught sight of a tattoo. A black snake coiled in a spiral on the man’s left arm.
“What’s going on...?” he thought, adrenaline attempting to fight off the drowsiness creeping over him.
Suddenly, a blue glow began to form beneath his feet. The light expanded rapidly, engulfing everyone in the room.
“What the hell is this?!” one of the masked men shouted, stepping back. But it was too late.
The magic circle shone brightly, flooding the room with an unknown energy. Kaito’s eyes shut involuntarily, and the last thing he felt was a deafening hum before losing consciousness.
Kaito’s eyes fluttered open. The smell of moss and dampness assaulted his senses before he could make out anything around him. His head throbbed with a dull ache, and a chill ran down his spine as he realized he was lying on a cold, rough surface. He sat up with effort, blinking to adjust to the dim light.
“Where... am I?” he whispered, his voice weak and echoing faintly against stone walls.
His gaze darted around, his unease growing. The walls were made of uneven rock, streaked with lichens and damp stains. Rusty iron bars framed the entrance of his cell, and the entire place exuded a somber air reminiscent of catacombs he had seen in documentaries.
Panic began to creep in. “Those thieves! They must have kidnapped me!” he thought, clenching his fists as he struggled to control his rapid breathing. But then his eyes landed on the figure by the cell door, and his heart skipped a beat.
A burly man clad in worn medieval armor stood guard, gripping a long spear. The sight was so out of place that it left Kaito stunned.
“Hey! You there, by the door!” Kaito called out, struggling to his feet. “What’s going on? Why am I locked up?”
The guard glanced at him briefly, then scoffed with disdain.
“You’re awake. To think someone like you could be a serial killer... Just wait for your sentence,” he said, his deep voice devoid of emotion.
Kaito felt a chill run through him. He frowned and stepped closer to the bars, gripping them tightly.
“What are you talking about? I’m no killer! This is a mistake. Let me out of here right now. I’ll sue whoever’s behind this ridiculous joke!”
The guard snorted, visibly irritated, and adjusted his spear.
“You speak nonsense. But they warned me you’d say something like that. My orders are to ignore you. Just wait for your execution quietly and don’t bother me.”
Kaito stumbled back a few steps, his chest tightening as his mind raced. “Execution? Killer? What the hell is he talking about? The last thing I remember is that blue circle…”
He clutched his head, trying to piece together what was happening. But nothing made sense. Nothing at all.
The damp, cold air of the cell was filled with an uneasy silence, echoing Kaito's swirling thoughts. He was lost in his fears and confusion when a distant commotion began to break the stillness. Several voices argued, accompanied by the clanging sound of hurried footsteps.
Kaito cautiously approached the bars, his sweaty hands gripping the cold metal. He could see two guards dragging a man who resisted vehemently. The prisoner looked to be around 40 years old, with a scruffy beard and clothes that seemed straight out of a medieval drama.
“The kingdom is rotten!” the man bellowed, struggling against his captors. “That useless king has abandoned his people! The ones who suffer while he sits on his damned throne!”
Kaito watched the scene unfold, his mind spinning. “Those clothes… That accent… What’s really going on here? This doesn’t feel like a joke. It’s all too real.”
The burly guard who had been keeping watch over him approached the other two. They exchanged brief but firm words. After nodding, the guard pulled out a set of keys and turned toward Kaito.
“Listen up, outsider,” he growled, pointing the tip of his spear at him. “If you try anything stupid, I’ll drive this spear through your leg without hesitation.”
Kaito raised his hands and instinctively stepped back, fear evident on his face.
“I’m not going to do anything!” he replied quickly, his voice trembling.
The guard unlocked the iron door with a grating screech. Before Kaito could say anything else, the two other guards shoved the prisoner into the cell with force. The man hit the ground with a loud thud that echoed in the cramped space.
“Ouch!” the man cried out, struggling to sit up as he rubbed his shoulder. “You damn savages!” he barked, glaring angrily at the guards, who ignored him and slammed the door shut.
Kaito stayed silent, watching the man as he muttered curses under his breath. A mix of fear and curiosity flickered in Kaito’s eyes. “Who the hell is this guy?” he wondered, taking a step back as the prisoner slowly got to his feet.
Kaito watched the man sharing the cell with him. Despite his disheveled hair and dirty clothes, there was something about him—something that hinted at a life filled with stories. Gathering his courage, Kaito finally spoke up.
“Excuse me, sir... Can I ask you a few questions?” he asked hesitantly, his gaze faltering as he sat on the ground, keeping a cautious distance.
The man, surprised by the politeness, raised an eyebrow and studied Kaito before responding.
“Hmm, you’re awfully polite for someone locked up here,” he said, letting out a short, dry laugh. “And those strange clothes... Are you some kind of noble from a foreign country?”
“A noble? No, I don’t think so...” Kaito replied, shaking his head slightly. “But, honestly, I don’t even know how I ended up in this place.”
The man shrugged, his expression resigned.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. In the end, it’s all the same. By tomorrow, we’ll both be dead anyway.”
The words made Kaito freeze in place.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, his voice trembling with alarm.
The man scowled, glancing at the guard before raising his voice.
“How is he here without knowing his sentence? Hey, useless guard! What kind of circus is this? Do you lock people up without even telling them why?”
The burly guard barely turned his head, replying in a dry and irritated tone.
“Mind your business, old man. He’s a special and urgent case. Even I don’t know why his elimination is so important.”
Kaito felt the ground crumble beneath him. “Elimination? They’re going to kill me?” he thought, his face turning pale as paper. A cold sweat ran down his back, and his body started to shake. Before he could spiral further into panic, an unexpected slap snapped him back to reality.
“Don’t show them fear!” the man exclaimed, his serious gaze fixed on Kaito. “Don’t give these bastards the satisfaction.”
Kaito raised a hand to his cheek, stunned, but the words helped calm him a little. He took a deep breath and, though still overwhelmed, tried to regain some composure.
“You seem really confused,” the man continued, crossing his arms as he sat down. “Well, I’ll answer your questions. Not like I have anything better to do here. My name’s Pedro.What about you? Who are you and do you at least remember how you got here?”
Kaito looked down for a moment before replying.
“I’m Kaito. And... honestly, I don’t really know how I got here. The last thing I remember is three guys breaking into my house, hitting me, and then... I woke up in this place.”
Pedro stared at him in silence, his expression a mix of curiosity and wariness.
Pedro crossed his arms, looking thoughtful as he observed Kaito.
“That sounds like a kidnapping,” he remarked, his brow furrowed as if piecing things together.
Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed Pedro’s face. His eyes narrowed, and he pointed a finger at Kaito.
“Wait... I remember those clothes. They’re similar to what the three heroes with that damn king were wearing.”
Kaito, surprised, leaned forward slightly, his interest unmistakable.
“What did you say?” he asked urgently. “Please, tell me more about that.”
Pedro moved closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
“Yesterday, I had an audience with the king. Those three guys with clothes like yours were there.”
Kaito stood up abruptly, his eyes filled with a mix of shock and determination.
“Did they wear ski masks that covered their faces?”
Pedro blinked, confused.
“Ski masks? I don’t know what that is, but they did have strange hats covering their faces.”
He paused, searching for the right words.
“Now that I think about it, the king ordered them to remove them. After that, some maids escorted them to another room. I remember feeling a bit envious, seeing how well those foreigners were treated.”
Kaito clenched his fists, a spark of hope igniting within him.
“How can I talk to them? They must know why I’m here.”
Pedro looked at him seriously, his tone darkening.
“Talk to them? You can’t do that. No one has ever left this death row prison alive or been granted any privileges.”
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Kaito’s face tightened at those words.
“Do you know those guys?” Pedro asked, watching him curiously.
Kaito nodded, his expression now marked by frustration.
“Of course I do! They’re the ones who kidnapped me, and I still don’t understand how I ended up in this situation.”
Pedro remained silent for a moment, evaluating Kaito’s words with a probing gaze.
The cold stone walls of the prison pressed around them like a suffocating weight. A single flickering torch cast long shadows across the damp floor, its sputtering flame the only sound in the oppressive silence. Kaito sat against the wall, his knees drawn up, trying to make sense of the twisted fate that had brought him here. Across from him, Pedro sat slumped, his face obscured by unkempt hair and a look of unshakable bitterness.
"You know, Kaito," Pedro began, his voice hoarse and laced with a tremor. His gaze fixed on the torch, as if afraid to look directly at his companion. "I wasn’t always like this… filled with hatred." He drew a deep, shaky breath, and his hands clenched into fists on his lap.
Kaito tilted his head, sensing the weight of the words yet to come.
"My family…" Pedro’s voice cracked, his shoulders shaking slightly. "They were slaughtered like animals." His fists tightened further, the veins on his arms bulging as he relived the memory. "Bastards. Bandits." The words were venomous. "They came demanding a fee—gold we didn’t have. And because we couldn’t pay, they..."
Pedro’s head dropped into his hands. His knuckles turned white as he gritted his teeth. "I went to the king," he continued, his voice now a low growl. "Begged him. Pleaded with him to bring justice, to make them pay. But you know what he did?"
Kaito’s silence invited Pedro to go on.
"He ignored me," Pedro spat, his voice rising, bouncing off the prison walls. "Too busy with his damn court politics, his petty wars. My family’s blood meant nothing to him!"
Pedro stood suddenly, pacing the small cell like a caged beast. His eyes burned with rage. "I shouted at him! Called him out for his cowardice. And do you know what that bastard did?" He spun to face Kaito, his breath coming in ragged bursts.
Kaito met his gaze, his heart heavy.
"He sentenced me to die!" Pedro shouted, slamming his fist into the wall, the dull thud reverberating through the cell. His face twisted in fury and despair. "For daring to speak against him, for demanding justice for my family!"
Pedro’s voice cracked again, and he sank to his knees. "And now... here I am. A dead man waiting for his sentence."
Kaito looked at Pedro, his heart aching. There were no words to offer comfort, only the faint sound of the torch's flame fighting against the darkness.
The heavy clang of boots echoed down the corridor, each step striking like a countdown to the inevitable. Kaito’s gaze snapped to the barred door as a guard appeared, his shadow stretching long and ominous against the cell wall.
“Pedro,” the guard barked, his tone as cold and unfeeling as the iron chains in his hand.
Pedro exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging for a moment before he forced himself upright. He turned to Kaito, his face a mixture of resignation and smoldering determination.
“Looks like my time’s up,” he murmured, his lips curling into a bitter smile. His hands clenched and unclenched, as if steeling himself for what was to come.
Kaito’s throat tightened, but no words came.
As the guard unlocked the cell, Pedro stepped forward with measured movements. When he reached the threshold, he suddenly stopped and turned his head, his eyes locking onto Kaito’s.
“Kaito,” Pedro said, his voice low but steady. “If you manage to escape this place… avenge me. Make that king pay for everything he’s done.”
Kaito’s eyes widened. Before he could respond, Pedro reached into his tattered shirt and pulled out a small, rusted key. With a swift flick of his wrist, he tossed it toward Kaito.
“Whatever happens,” Pedro said, his voice rising just enough to be heard over the pounding of Kaito’s heart, “what’s in the basement of my house… it’s yours.”
The key landed with a soft clang on the cold stone floor, skidding to a halt near Kaito’s foot. Pedro gave a final, fleeting smile—one filled with both sadness and hope—before the guard grabbed him roughly by the arm.
As Pedro was dragged away, his voice echoed down the corridor, faint but resolute. “Don’t waste it, Kaito!”
Kaito sat frozen, staring at the key gleaming faintly in the dim light. His hand trembled as he reached for it, the cold metal biting against his skin.
Kaito stared at the key in his trembling hands, its rough surface glinting faintly under the dim prison light. The weight of Pedro’s words still lingered in his mind when, suddenly, a soft chime echoed in his ears.
Before him, a translucent blue window materialized out of thin air. Its ethereal glow cast a faint light on his face, the words on it clear as day.
"Do you wish to store Pedro’s key in your inventory?"
Kaito’s breath hitched, his eyes darting to the guard who had just left. The man seemed oblivious, his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor. Kaito quickly looked back at the message. Am I the only one seeing this? he thought, his heart racing.
His gaze moved to the bottom of the message, where two options glowed faintly: Accept and Reject. The glowing buttons pulsed gently, urging him to make a decision.
His hands trembled, his pulse pounding in his ears. “What the hell is this?” he muttered under his breath, but instinct took over. Slowly, he extended his finger toward Accept.
The moment he pressed it, the key vanished from his palm in a shimmer of light, leaving a faint warmth behind. Kaito’s eyes widened in shock, his mind scrambling to process what had just happened.
“I’m in another world,” he whispered, the words barely audible. The realization washed over him like ice water, sending a shiver down his spine.
Desperate for answers, he focused his thoughts, trying to recreate the strange sensation that summoned the window. After a few attempts, another screen appeared before him, this one filled with detailed information.
It read:
Kaito – Level 1 (Hero)
Power: 300
Race: Human
Title: The Forgotten Hero
Status: Confused / Prisoner
Skill: Assimilation in progress (Incomplete) (Loading: 89%)
Kaito’s eyes scanned the screen, his jaw slack. The title "Forgotten Hero" felt like a cruel mockery, and the phrase Assimilation in progress only deepened his confusion.
“What… what does this even mean?” he murmured, his voice shaking. Panic crept into his mind as the weight of his situation pressed down on him.
Kaito clenched his fists, his heart pounding as he focused again on the strange interface. The translucent screen shimmered in front of him as he struggled to summon another menu. After a few more attempts, a new window popped up, this time displaying information about the guard standing nearby.
Ralph – Level 13 (Lancer)
Power: 2300
Race: Human
Title: Soldier of the Iron Kingdom
Status: Calm
Skill: Spear Thrust / Stone Skin
Passive Skill: Cold Mind
Kaito’s breath hitched as he read through the details, his gaze lingering on the guard’s level and power. This guy is just a guard, and he’s so much stronger than me... A cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He could feel the weight of reality pressing down harder than ever.
He swallowed hard, glancing at his own stats from earlier. Level 1. Power: 300. The gap between them felt insurmountable, a chasm that made him feel more helpless than ever.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor again, this time heavier and more deliberate. Kaito turned his head sharply toward the sound, his stomach twisting into knots. Another guard appeared, his armor clinking softly as he stopped in front of the cell.
“Kaito,” the new guard barked, his tone devoid of emotion. “It’s time.”
Kaito’s blood ran cold. He felt his knees threaten to give way as the door creaked open. The guard stepped inside, grabbing him by the arm with a grip like iron.
“No, wait—” Kaito stammered, but the guard gave no sign of hearing him. His mind raced as he was dragged out of the cell, his thoughts a whirlwind of fear and disbelief.
Is this really it? he thought, his eyes darting to the first guard, Ralph, who barely even looked at him.
Kaito stumbled slightly as the guard dragged him down a dimly lit hallway. The air was heavy, the oppressive silence broken only by the clinking of armor. His thoughts swirled chaotically, every step feeling like a march toward the inevitable.
Finally, they stopped in a cold, barren chamber. Two figures stood waiting—a guard of higher rank, his polished armor gleaming in the flickering torchlight, and a woman clad in flowing white robes adorned with intricate golden patterns. Her serene expression contrasted sharply with the grim scene unfolding.
“Kaito,” the higher-ranking guard began, his voice firm and devoid of emotion. “You have two choices.”
Kaito’s heart clenched as the man produced a small vial filled with a pale, shimmering liquid.
“Option one: You drink this poison. It will kill you painlessly,” the guard continued, his tone unwavering. “Option two: You are executed publicly. The choice is yours.”
Kaito’s breath hitched. His eyes darted to the vial, its contents glowing faintly, then to the guard and the priestess. The latter clasped her hands in a silent prayer, her eyes closed as if already mourning his passing.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. Some choice, he thought. His hands trembled as he reached for the vial, its cool glass pressing against his palm. Resignation settled over him like a heavy cloak.
“I’ll take the poison,” he murmured, barely loud enough for the others to hear.
The priestess stepped forward, her expression unchanging but her movements graceful. “May your soul find peace in the embrace of the gods,” she intoned, her voice soft yet resonant.
Kaito hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed on the liquid. With a deep breath, he tipped the vial to his lips, the cold substance sliding down his throat. It tasted of nothing, but the weight of what it symbolized made his stomach churn.
The priestess raised her hands, murmuring a prayer that seemed to echo off the stone walls. Kaito’s vision blurred, the words fading into a muffled hum.
His knees buckled. The vial slipped from his fingers, shattering on the floor as his body collapsed. The last thing he saw was the priestess’s calm face gazing down at him, her hands still folded in prayer, before darkness consumed him.
20 hours ago.
The grand hall of the castle was filled with an almost tangible tension. Four figures stood before the throne, where the king, clad in ornate robes, gazed down at them with a solemn expression. The light from the high windows cast long shadows, highlighting the nervous glances shared by three of the summoned heroes.
Kaito lay unconscious on the cold marble floor, his breathing shallow and his face pale. His disheveled appearance was a stark contrast to the confident stances of the other three.
The king rose slightly from his throne, his voice booming across the hall. "Heroes from another world, I beseech you to lend us your strength. The kingdom faces a grave threat, and only you possess the power to save it."
The three conscious "heroes" exchanged quick glances. They huddled together, whispering in hushed tones, their words unintelligible to the king but dripping with an air of scheming.
After a moment, one of them, a tall man with a sly grin and sharp eyes, stepped forward. "Your Majesty," he began, bowing deeply, "we are honored to have been chosen to aid your kingdom. We accept your request to fight for this land, but..."
The king raised an eyebrow. "But?"
"We have conditions," the man continued smoothly. "We desire lives of luxury—fine food, gold, and grand estates worthy of heroes such as ourselves."
The other two nodded eagerly, their faces alight with greedy anticipation.
The king hesitated, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest of his throne. Before he could respond, the same man added, "And, Your Majesty, we must address a serious concern."
The room grew silent.
He gestured toward Kaito, still unconscious on the floor. "This so-called hero—he is dangerous. Before we were summoned to this world, he was a serial killer in ours. We cannot risk someone like him roaming free. For the safety of your kingdom, he must be eliminated."
The king's expression darkened as he considered the words. He studied Kaito's lifeless form and then turned his gaze back to the man. "Are you certain of this?"
"Without a doubt, Your Majesty," another of the three chimed in, his voice filled with false conviction. "We wouldn't lie about something so grave."
The king nodded grimly, his decision made. "Guards," he commanded, his voice like steel, "take this man to the dungeons. He shall face judgment for his crimes."
The guards stepped forward, lifting Kaito's limp body without hesitation. The three false heroes exchanged triumphant smirks as they watched him being dragged away, their deceit unnoticed by the king.
The kingdom of iron was alive with celebration. The news of the summoned heroes had spread like wildfire, filling the people with hope and joy. Across the borders, rival kingdoms were growing restless, viewing the arrival of these champions as a dangerous shift in power. But far from the bustling streets and regal halls, in a place untouched by the light of festivities, a different story was unfolding.
In the desolate outskirts of the kingdom, a deep, shadowy pit lay hidden. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and the ground was littered with the remains of those long forgotten. Among the broken bones and rotting flesh lay the lifeless body of Kaito. His once vibrant eyes were shut, his skin pale and marred, a grim testament to his untimely end.
The oppressive silence was shattered as a faint blue glow illuminated the dark. A window, translucent and shimmering, appeared before Kaito's corpse.
Skill in progress: Assimilation (incomplete) (99%).
Moments passed, and the glow intensified.
Skill in progress: Assimilation (complete) (100%).
The text shifted.
Unique Skills Acquired: Devour, Evolution, Luck.
Suddenly, Kaito's fingers twitched. His chest heaved as though taking a breath, and his eyelids fluttered open. Empty eyes, now glowing faintly with an otherworldly light, stared into the darkness.
Another window appeared before him, its words crisp and clear against the void.
Kaito - Level 1 (Dark Hero)
Power: 1000
Race: Undead
Title: Weak Zombie
State: Confusion / Hunger
Unique Skills: Devour, Evolution, Luck
Passive Skills: Poison Immunity, Physical Damage Reduction (50%), Physical Damage Increase (30%).
A low growl rumbled from Kaito’s throat, a sound that echoed off the walls of the pit. His body, now a twisted mockery of life, began to move with a slow, deliberate purpose.