Chapter 4

No Reason to Exist

There’s a saying among mobile gamers: “Your gacha pulls depend on your karma.”

Whether it was a way to cope with bad pulls or just self-consolation, pinning bad luck on “karma” somehow linked two unrelated things feel connected. At least then, when things didn’t go as planned, there was something, or anything, to blame, even if it would only soften the sting just a little….

But….

Did that really help this time?

Did it make any difference?

Did it?

“Not even close ––––!! “

Zi-Cheng let you a cry, something between a wounded animal and a frustrated child, then slumped like a deflated balloon as he stumbled out of the Invocation Chamber.

“Ventus!”

Sensing something was clearly wrong, Elena hurried over. But with the look of someone who’d lost everything, Zi-Cheng simply walked right past her, barely registering her presence.

(Was it something I’ve done?)

(Was there something wrong with me?)

“What the hell is wrong with my karma––––!?!!”

Zi-Cheng’s sudden outburst caused Elena to jump back, but with years of experience at the Sanctuary, she quickly pieced together what must have happened during the invocation.

“It’s okay, Ventus. It’s actually really common to get a few useless skills from the Inovocation! It happens to everyone!”

As a Sanctuary worker, Elena had watched so many people walk away disappointed after their Invocations. Unlike her colleagues, who’d long grown numb to these cases, she couldn’t bring herself to stop caring; each new disappointment felt just as painful as the last. She sighed, her voice soft with empathy.

“Look at me, for example. My Empathetic Heart skill only boosts healing effects by a measly 5%, and Transference lets me pass on just 20% of that healing energy to others. Neither of them is remotely useful in matches.” She sat next to him, hoping that by sharing her own shortcomings, she could connect with him in his frustration. But instead, her words sparked something different in Zi-Cheng.

“What are you even talking about? Those skills are perfect for a support or healer role!” he said, indignant.

“Healer? Support? What does that mean?”

When Zi-Cheng met Elena’s wide-eyed, genuinely puzzled gaze, he realized something. “Wait… you’ve never heard of roles like tank, healer, DPS? You know, the holy trinity?”

Elena shook her head, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she looked up at him. She wasn’t faking it; she really didn’t know.

“Are there... no team matches in the arena?” he asked cautiously.

“Of course not! Every match in the arena is a fair one-on-one duel,” she answered plainly.

“Like Street Fighter?” he blurted out, almost to himself.

“No, silly! We’re not savages! Fighting on the street could get you arrested!”

“No, I mean…” Zi-Cheng facepalmed, muttering to himself, “how do I even explain this?”

It all made sense now. The arena’s one-on-one format had no room for teamwork, which meant skills like healing or support were as good as useless in a match. It was like sending healers into a Street Fighter match—they could heal, but they’d just be self-healing punching bags.

In this world, where victors ruled and only certain skills were valued, the system felt twisted. Those stuck with “useless skills” weren’t just overlooked—they were left at the bottom of the social ladder, cast aside as a whole.

“In game design terms, whoever came up with these matches seriously did a lousy job.”

“The matches were created by the Hero!” Elena shot back, “No matter how upset you are, what you’re saying is way out of line!”

Zi-Cheng hadn’t expected his offhand remark to hit such a nerve, but as he looked up at the Hero’s statue, everything made sense. With the Hero’s revered status, no one would dare suggest that there were flaws to the arena rules, let alone propose new match formats.

(Just like how bad games are usually made when leadership is tone-deaf.)

Realizing he was in no position to change anything, Zi-Cheng felt his enthusiasm for the arena fading even further.

“Was the skill you got from the Invocation really that awful?” Elena asked suddenly.

Before he could answer, she unhooked a small oil lamp from her belt and lifted it toward his face. As she raised it, a soft green light began to stir inside, pooling in the glass before spilling outward in shimmering, jelly-like tendrils. The light unfurled slowly, curling around him in delicate waves, casting a strange, enchanting glow that wrapped him entirely in its embrace.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Then, in a heartbeat, the green glow began to seep into him, like some peculiar, writhing creature searching for a way in. It slipped through every gap, invading every corner of his being. The more he struggled, the tighter it held him, rooting him in place. Each attempt to cry out only made the light burrow deeper, reaching places he hadn’t known existed, as if determined to pry open the very core of his soul.

“Stop… stop it…!”

A wave of nausea and suffocation overtook him. The sensation of his soul being forcibly exposed felt worse than if he’d been stripped bare in public.

After what felt like an eternity, the green light finally released him, floating above the oil lamp in a swirling mass before slowly unfurling in the air.

Zi-Cheng slumped to the ground, gasping for breath. He wanted to lash out at Elena, but when he looked up, her expression was empty, as though possessed by a spirit. In a voice that didn’t seem to be her own, she murmured:

“Identification complete. Partial data failed to process.”

The eerie green light continued to extend upward, projecting the results of the analysis in words that are foreign yet understandable for some reason.

Name: Ventus (Age 20)

Title: None

Rank: None

HP: CORRUPTED MP: CORRUPTED

STR: UNREADABLE DEX: UNREADABLE INT: UNREADABLE

CON: UNREADABLE CHA: UNREADABLE LUC: DATA NOT FOUND

Skill:

[Developer Mode]

Activates [Construct], [Remake], [Terraform], and [�??灞�] abilities, ineffective with living organisms.

[��� Memory]

Carries ¥†�䲰�� Memory of �衤��

(Why was my data...corrupted?)

Zi-Cheng knew he had received a bunch of skills unrelated to combat during the Invocation, but he didn’t expect even his basic attributes would turn out to be entirely unreadable.

“How could this happen...?” Elena’s face went pale as she regained her bearings and looked over his status window. “All your stats are unreadable? And your skill... ‘Developer Mode’? What’s that even supposed to mean?”

Zi-Cheng wasn’t entirely sure either. The word “Developer” naturally meant “programmer” or “software engineer” to him, but in a world without computers or coding, maybe “developer” carried a different meaning here.

(With abilities like Construct, Remake, and Terraform, it sounded more like a developer for land and buildings than any kind of programmer…)

In other words, without any kind of “cheat” abilities, he was nothing more than a low-tier laborer with a set of useless skills.

The thought that he might become the next Hero still lingered at the back of Zi-Cheng’s mind, but harsh reality had shattered that hope, leaving him with the bitter realization that he was nothing more than an insignificant side character. This crushing truth, on top of his recent bankruptcy and the loss of his life’s work, finally pushed Zi-Cheng to the verge of a frustrated shout he could no longer hold in.

“Damn it all!”

His voice, thick with bitterness, sliced through the temple’s silence, drawing attention from all around—and catching the ear of a nearby passerby.

“Elena, are you alright? Is this visitor giving you trouble?”

The question came from Morris Percival, a member of the Sanctuary’s medical squad who happened to be walking by. Morris approached with a stern expression, his gaze narrowing disapprovingly at Zi-Cheng.

Elena quickly waved a hand to dismiss Zi-Cheng’s status window before anyone else could glimpse it. She turned to Morris with a cheery smile, hoping to dispel his concern. “No trouble at all, Morris. He’s just having a bit of a rough day.”

Morris, likely in his early twenties, remained unfazed by Elena’s attempt to ease things. Standing beside her like a watchful guardian, he carried an air of authority that left little doubt about his connection to her. “No matter the outcome, you should be thankful,” he said in a measured tone, almost like a sermon. “Safety within these walls is already a blessing. Beyond them, such protection doesn’t exist.”

Zi-Cheng didn’t miss the message, nor the way Morris stood close to Elena—the fair maiden clearly already had her knight. He let out a bitter chuckle, paying no mind to Morris's action as he was still fixated on the disappointing results of the Invocation. Not wanting to overstay his welcome, he gave the two a final nod and turned, stepping away to leave the solemn halls behind.

As he stepped out of the Sanctuary Temple, Zi-Cheng finally let his guard down, tilting his head back and releasing a long, weary sigh.

He hadn’t planned on entering the arena matches, but the sting of knowing his hopes of becoming a hero were nothing more than a laughable fantasy still hurt. Whether in his own world or this one, he remained a nobody—swept under the rug and forgotten. Walking along the path downhill into town, he glanced up at the evening sky. A handful of stars shone faintly in the vast darkness above, distant and unreachable, reminding him that, here too, he was a stranger with nowhere he truly belonged.

No option to uninstall, no reset, and no chance to be the hero of the story. How was he supposed to beat this “survival game”? The skills he’d gained were practically useless for getting ahead in the city, let alone surviving in the monster-filled wilderness beyond.

Guuuu ———

His stomach let out a shameless growl, reminding him he hadn’t had a single meal since coming to this world.

Reaching into his pocket, his fingers brushed against the silver coins Chris had given him.

(I guess a meal and a night’s rest wouldn’t be too much to ask for, right?)