[50 Years Ago]

“You’re going to do great.” His mother knelt down on one knee, cupping his cheeks, her eyes locked on his.

Though she smiled, her brown eyes betrayed her true feelings. They were filled with fear. Her trembling hands, gently holding his face, gave her away.

“She’ll be fine, honey. That’s our boy. He’ll get us out of this mess.” His father’s voice was warm and steady, even as he sat alone at a small, fragile table. The table creaked with every slight movement, threatening to collapse at any moment.

The entire house was like that—weak and fragile. Every gust of wind made it shake, and Red often feared it would come crashing down.

Red nodded at his parents. Today was the big day. He was going to Rainstar Academy.

He wore his new outfit—a red jacket paired with matching red pants. His black leather boots, though sturdy, felt like the only solid part of him. His figure, gaunt and thin, made his bones visible beneath his pale skin.

A 12 year old Red approached the door, his stomach grumbled faintly, a twisting knot of hunger and nerves tightening in his core.

His thoughts raced as he reached for the handle. He remembered overhearing his parents’ hushed whispers about the 2-million-gold loan they’d taken to send him to the academy. What haunted him most was the lender—Darui, one of the Three Overlords.

As he opened the door, the weight of their expectations pressed down on him. Red turned back to them, plastering the biggest smile he could muster across his face. “Wish me luck!”

The last image burned into his memory was his parents’ hopeful smiles as he closed the door behind him.

[44 Years Ago]

The door swung open with a loud creak, and Red stepped inside after a six-year absence.

His mother, sitting at the table, looked unrecognizable—frail, skeletal, and tired. His father, slumped in a corner of the room, wasn’t much better.

“I’m back,” Red said quietly.

Both parents sprang up, crawling toward him like desperate animals. Their smiles were wide but forced.

“You’re back... I’m so glad. So, did you get it?” His mother’s hands began to rummage through his pockets.

“The academy license, Joe. Did you get it?”

She turned his pockets inside out in a frenzy, but there was nothing there. Her voice rose. “Where is it? Where’s the license?”

Tears welled in Red’s eyes as he whispered, “Sorry, Mom. Dad. I failed.”

With those words, their eyes went cold.

His father stumbled to his feet, his face a mask of shock and desperation. “You're joking" his father forced a chuckle. "You’ve got the license, right?”

Red shook his head, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get it. I—”

Before he could finish, his father grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

“Bullshit! Where’s the license, Red? You failed? After everything we did for you? All those sacrifices, and you still failed? Do you even understand what you’ve done? Darui will kill us!”

His father’s voice cracked as he pounded his fists against Red. Tears streamed down his face as he screamed, “What was the point of all that money?!”

Red cried out for mercy, but the assault didn’t stop. His mother, coughing violently, spat blood into her frail hands. She looked like she’d been sick for years.

The blows kept coming, and Red’s vision blurred until his hand began to glow. A blue mark reflected on the floor beneath him.

[You Have Activated The Skill (Summoning)]

[The Bloody Hound (Rank 5) Has Been Summoned]

A fierce, red-furred beast burst forth from the glowing mark. Without hesitation, its jaws clamped onto his father’s leg, dragging him to the ground.

His father’s screams echoed in the room as the hound tore into him. Red cried out, “Stop it! Stop!” But the beast didn’t listen.

In mere moments, it had devoured both his parents. Blood dripped from its maw as it turned its gaze to its summoner.

Red's heart hammered, he tried to press himself against the wall—in a desperate attempt to create distance.

The hound crouched, ready to pounce, but before it could, it dissolved into blue mana.

[80% Of Your Mana Has Been Depleted]

[Your Summon Has Been Disabled]

Red collapsed to his knees, spitting blood and sobbing. He stared at the carnage around him, his thoughts spiraling into despair.

“I didn’t mean to... I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to...”

He curled up on the blood-soaked floor, trembling.

[40 Years Ago]

Red was a fugitive. Darui wanted his money, and Red had nothing to give.

His clothes, now four years old, hung in tattered rags around his thin frame. His boots were long gone, leaving him to trudge barefoot through scorching heat, torrential rain, and biting blizzards.

Somehow, against all odds, his body endured.

He was battered, hungry, and utterly exhausted. Begging for coins had only earned him beatings, so he gave that up long ago. Stealing was out of the question—his body was too weak, too drained of energy to even attempt it.

Adventurers passed by without a care, their mocking voices sharp as blades.

"He couldn’t even get past Rainstar. Useless piece of trash."

"How did he expect to succeed with such a low Mana Signature? He’s no better than a Rejector."

"How can he serve The Union like that? He can’t even qualify as an adventurer. Heck, even a swordsmith or any basic trade is beyond his ability."

"It’s kids like him that make our kingdom look weak. Absolutely worthless."

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The whispers never stopped. Day after day, they echoed around him, and Red heard every single word.

He was starting to lose hope. What was the point of living? Why struggle to survive in a world so cold and unforgiving?

A sharp bone rested in his trembling hands. He raised it to his neck, ready to end it all. Maybe, just maybe, he could apologize to his parents in the afterlife.

That’s when he appeared.

"Do you want me to save you, Red?"

Red froze. Slowly, he raised his head. A man in a black cloak stood before him, extending a gloved hand. The man’s fingertips hovered mere inches away, yet Red hesitated.

"Who are you?" Red asked, his voice weak and confused.

"I’m Mikey, but you can call me Daddy."

"Daddy?"

"Yes," Mikey said, his tone calm but piercing. "I know everything about you, Red. A kid who failed to pass at Rainstar. A boy who can’t even tame his summons. Someone with a Mana Signiture so low, he’s no better than a Rejector. A boy who killed his own parents."

The sharp bone slipped from Red’s hand and clattered to the ground. His voice broke as he cried, hiding his face in his hands. "I didn’t mean to kill them. It was a mistake!"

"You did the right thing by killing them," Mikey said, his voice low and cold.

"What?" Red’s head snapped up, his tear-streaked face filled with disbelief.

"They never loved you," Mikey said, his tone unwavering. "They only controlled you because they wanted the license—a way out of their misery. When you were no good to them, what happened? They were going to kill you."

"That’s not—"

"It is true, and deep down, you know it." Mikey’s words were sharp, cutting through Red’s protests. "Look around, Red. This world is broken. Without a license, your life is worthless. Without enough mana, you’re expendable. People turn away when you’re different; no one reaches out to help." He extended his hand closer, his voice softening. "But I am."

Red stared at the outstretched hand, unsure.

"Those at the top think they can push us down because we lack power," Mikey continued, his voice carrying an edge of conviction. "The strong seek to control the weak. But listen, Red. You did nothing wrong. They tried to control you, and you took control instead. That’s the strength you need—to have authority over your own life."

Red’s voice quivered. "What about Darui…? He’ll kill me."

"I’ll take care of everything," Mikey assured him. "I just need you to stand with me. Help me build a world where the rejected can thrive. A utopia for those cast aside. Let’s take control of this broken system. Help me, Red. Help me change the world."

In the depths of his despair, someone had finally reached out to him. And that day, amidst the darkness, Red was saved.

[Present Moment]

"You think I'm doing this because I hate those kids, don't you? I'm just looking to make someone's dream a reality! You won’t touch Mikey for as long as I live!" Red yelled, his voice shaking with conviction.

[The Glattanor Has Activated The Skill (Tremor Rush)]

The Glattanor stomped the ground, and a series of jagged earth spikes erupted from the surface, racing toward Joe with terrifying speed.

Joe’s grip tightened around his blade.

[-300 Mana From Your Mana Pool]

[Current Mana Pool: 7,545]

[+120 Rank Points To Your Physical Attributes (Total: 162)]

[+180 Rank Points To Your Mana Attributes (Total: 225)]

[You Have Activated The Skill (Outsider’s Perspective)]

In an instant, Joe’s form disappeared, rocketing forward at nearly untraceable speeds. With one fluid motion, he swung his blade vertically.

[Crescent Moon Slash]

A surge of mana erupted in a sharp crescent arc, tearing through the advancing spikes in one swift motion. The slash didn’t stop there—it surged forward, aiming to bisect the Glattanor entirely.

"Use Hardening!" Red shouted desperately.

[The Glattanor Has Activated The Skill (Hardening)]

The crescent slash clashed against the Glattanor’s reinforced hide. The impact created a thunderous explosion, shaking the battlefield. When the smoke cleared, the Glattanor was still standing. Its body wavered, a deep scar etched across its chest, but its defiant gaze locked onto Joe.

Its eyes darted right—Joe wasn’t there. It shifted left, catching a glimmer of Joe’s figure speeding toward it like a blur.

[The Glattanor Has Activated The Skill (Raging Tongue)]

The Glattanor’s grotesque tongue shot out at blistering speed, aiming to skewer Joe. Anticipating the attack, Joe leaped to his right and dashed forward, the tongue missing him by mere inches.

But the Glattanor wasn’t done. It whipped its tongue again, snapping it like a brutal lash aimed at Joe’s midsection.

Joe reacted with precision, flipping acrobatically over the tongue and landing on the tongue's opposite side. Wasting no time, he slashed, severing a large portion of the tongue in one clean motion. Blood sprayed violently as the Glattanor recoiled with a guttural cry of pain.

Joe’s speed increased further, his body blurring as he vanished.

[You Have Activated The Black Blade’s Skill (Charge)]

[The Black Blade Is Gathering Mana]

From above, Joe descended like a black meteor, his blade surging with dense, crackling mana.

"A dream that needs kids to suffer in order to succeed is a worthless dream that must be destroyed!" Joe roared.

[Charge Complete]

[Current Mana Output From The Black Blade: 285 Rank Points Has Doubled]

[New Mana Output From The Black Blade: 570 Rank Points]

[The Black Blade’s Weight Has Doubled]

Joe felt the strain in his muscles as the blade’s immense weight threatened to overwhelm him, but he held firm.

[You Have Activated The Black Blade’s Skill: Fatal Swing]

With a mighty swing, a crescent-shaped mana slash erupted from the blade, descending upon Red and the Glattanor. The attack engulfed them in a torrent of darkness, their screams of agony echoing in the chaos.

When the smoke cleared, Joe landed heavily on the ground, his arms trembling from the strain of the Black Blade’s sheer weight.

The Glattanor lay cleaved apart, its blood soaking the earth. Its form began to disintegrate into mana particles, fading from existence. Joe didn’t even have time to activate [Predator].

So this is what happens when a summoned beast dies?

He raised his head and spotted Red on the ground, his face pale and contorted in pain. Somehow, he had escaped the brunt of the attack, but both his legs had been severed, and blood was pouring from the stumps.

"Are you going to talk to me about Mikey?" Joe asked, his voice icy and sharp.

[Red Has Activated The Skill: Summon]

[The Big Hound (Rank 19) Has Been Summoned]

"Atta—"

Before Red could finish his command, Joe’s blade moved with ruthless precision, cleaving cleanly through the Big Hound’s head. The beast didn’t even have time to react before its body disintegrated into mana.

Red staggered, blood spilling from his mouth as the backlash of his summon’s destruction wracked his body.

Joe advanced slowly, each step measured and deliberate, until he stood over Red, his shadow looming. "Last chance," Joe said, his voice a low growl.

Red smiled weakly and pulled a green crystal from his jacket pocket. The stone shimmered faintly, resembling a small orb. With a defiant sneer, he crushed it in his hand.

"Go to hell!" Red spat, his words venomous.

In the blink of an eye, Joe’s blade sliced through Red’s neck, decapitating him instantly.

[You Have Slain A Native]

[+13,000 Rank Points]

[Rank Up Progress: 11 [25 000/ 40 000 Rank Points Required]

[You Have Activated The Skill (Predator)]

As Red’s body crumpled and darkness began to swirl around him, Joe turned without a second glance and walked away.

[You Have Activated The Branch Skill (Soul Consumption]

[+1 Native Soul Has Been Stored Inside Your Body]

Joe made his way back to the Meat is Money store, entering through the crack in the wall he had created earlier.

"Get out of my sight!" he commanded.

The customers scattered, fleeing the store in a blind panic—everyone except for the girls who worked there and Shelly.

"You’re free now—"

"Shut up!" one of the servers snapped, cutting Joe off mid-sentence. Her voice was raw with anger and despair. "Now that Red is gone, where do you expect us to work? We have nothing now, nothing! Do you think you we can just start over? We don't even have an academy license. This job was all we had!"

Others began to break down, falling to their knees in tears.

"What do you think will happen to us when we stop making money? Mikey will kill us!" another wailed.

"My sister depends on the little money I earn here. Now what are we supposed to do?"

Joe stood frozen, completely lost for words. His eyes darted toward Shelly and the girl she had healed. Shelly had done a remarkable job saving her, but the weight of the workers’ despair pressed heavily on him.

I need a plan, Joe thought, his mind racing. Something to help these people.

But before he could formulate one, a deafening bang echoed through the town, followed by a piercing, inhuman cry.

Joe and Shelly exchanged a tense glance before rushing outside to investigate. The workers remained inside, their cries of despair filling the air.

What Joe and Shelly saw was a scene of pure horror.

At the center of the town, a boy was impaled on a long pole, a massive nail driven straight through his skull. Blood poured from his lifeless body, pooling beneath him.

It was John—the boy Shelly had caught earlier after he stole potions.

He hung there, motionless, his blood-soaked figure swaying gently in the breeze.

"Piece of trash!"

The townspeople, including the chubby shopkeeper from earlier, stood around the corpse, pelting it with stones. They jeered and shouted, their hatred unabated even in death. The boy’s body, already lifeless, was reduced to a mangled, unrecognizable mess.

Joe and Shelly stood paralyzed, the weight of the scene crushing them.

In that moment, the truth was undeniable.

Perina was not just a town. It was a town made in hell.