Lucas staggered, his vision a blur of pain and exhaustion. Every breath sent fresh waves of agony through his broken ribs, but he refused to let go. His trembling, bloodied hands tried to push himself up from the dirt where the foreman and his goons had left him.

He could barely hear their jeers over the sound of his own labored breathing. Their taunts blended into a cacophony of voices, but the malice was unmistakable. The foreman, a skinny man with a scarred face, stepped forward, grinning as he watched Lucas struggle.

"You're a stubborn little rat, aren't you?" the foreman sneered, delivering another kick to Lucas's side. The pain was excruciating, but Lucas bit down hard, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a scream.

His body screamed at him to give up, to let the darkness take him, to pass out, but something deeper within him—something primal—refused to be silenced. Why does this always happen to me? Why do I always have to fight for what should be mine? Is it a sin to be weak? To be an orphan?

As the foreman loomed over him, Lucas's thoughts turned to the days spent working tirelessly just to scrape by, the countless times he had faced similar beatings and humiliation. Each blow felt like a reminder of how powerless he was in a world that demanded strength above all else.

Lucas caught a glimpse of the foreman's face through his swollen eyes, and what he saw made his stomach turn. The man wasn't just beating him out of anger or frustration; he was enjoying it. There was twisted delight in his eyes, a sick pleasure in watching Lucas suffer. It ignited something inside Lucas, a fury that burned hotter than the pain radiating through his body.

If only I had power… If I wasn't so weak, if I wasn't an orphan with no backing, they wouldn't dare. I wouldn't have to endure this. I wouldn't be treated like trash, like something less than human.

As these thoughts raged within him, something deep inside Lucas snapped. A surge of energy unlike anything he had ever felt erupted from within him. It was as if a dam had broken, releasing a flood of raw, unbridled power. A golden light burst forth, enveloping his battered body in a radiant aura that shimmered blindingly.

The foreman and his men recoiled, their eyes wide with fear. They knew what this meant. They had never witnessed and awakening before but heard about the awakening phenomenon. The foreman shook his head in denial, unable to comprehend how this was happening. Why wasn't he the one to awaken? Why was this weak orphan standing before him, radiating a power that dwarfed everyone around him?

One of the goons, his voice trembling, shouted, "He's awakening, but how? Isn't he only 12? How is this possible? An S-rank! We are dead. R-run!" Panic seized them as the golden light intensified, swirling around Lucas like a protective cocoon.

Lucas felt the power coursing through him, mending his broken bones, erasing the pain, and sharpening his senses. The golden light pulsed with every beat of his heart, growing brighter and more potent until it was almost blinding.

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He rose to his feet, no longer the broken, helpless boy they had beaten. Lucas couldn't believe his eyes as he looked at the golden glow surrounding his body. The foreman, who had moments ago taken such pleasure in his suffering, now looked at him with sheer terror.

The man didn't even have the guts to run; he knew he couldn't. His uncle was only a C-rank, and he could rip steel like paper and move faster than the eye could follow. An S-rank was in front of him. Running meant nothing.

Lucas's eyes, now glowing with the same golden light, locked onto the foreman. "You're not so tough now, are you?" he said, his voice low but laced with malice that sent chills down the spines of everyone present.

The foreman's bravado had shattered completely. He stammered, searching for words to defend himself, but nothing came out. Instead, he stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet. Lucas stepped closer, the golden energy swirling around him.

One of the men turned and ran, panic evident in his eyes. As the light around Lucas subsided, he charged forward, closing the distance of nearly 100 meters in an instant. He grabbed the man's shoulder and squeezed, a sickening crunch echoing through the alley as bones shattered under his grip. The man fell to the ground, his screams piercing the air, a haunting reminder of the power that Lucas now wielded.

Turning his attention to the foreman and the remaining goon, Lucas felt a surge of adrenaline. As he charged at them, the foreman's mind raced with terror. He had always relied on his uncle's strength, but now he found himself face-to-face with a boy he had belittled, who was moving with an otherworldly speed.

...

After breaking some of their bones, Lucas stared at his bloodied fist, gripping it tightly. He had awakened; he was a hunter now, and not just any other hunter but an S-rank who stood above all humanity. Suddenly, the sound of sirens pierced the air as cops rushed into the courtyard, surrounding him. Their faces were a mix of concern and disbelief, and none of them had the courage to step forward.

The cops had heard from the people around them that he was an S-rank. They were all praying inside that Lucas would not go berserk.

Sometimes, people awaken in moments of distress, like Lucas, unleashing their power. Even a D-rank awakening like that could lead to a disaster, as it would be impossible to subdue them until a more powerful hunter arrived. Now, with an S-rank potentially going berserk, the thought sent terrifying shivers down their spines.

As the cops held their shields, they couldn't help but take a step back when Lucas looked toward them. Half of them were hunters, but the most powerful among them was only D-rank. Aside from the city defense team, there was no one above D-rank in the police force.

As Lucas released a deep breath, everyone held theirs. He turned toward the D-rank cop and said, "I am not going to hurt anyone." The cop was a bit shocked by what he heard. It was expected that Lucas would kill all the workers here, especially those three, but he seemed too calm and collected. He had only broken a couple of their bones.

Seeing that terrified the cop even more because it meant, Lucas had calmly and deliberately maimed them. Looking at their injuries, he realized that unless they found at least a B-rank healer, they would likely never use their arms again. Lucas hadn't just broken their joints; he had reduced them to a mangled mess.

Suddenly, a light gleamed across the sky, and a figure appeared. She looked ethereal with her flowing ice-blue hair and doll-like face. An ice spear was gripped in her hand, and a pair of icy wings extended behind her. Everyone's attention was locked on her as she floated in the air. She was the guild leader of the Frozen Flower Guild, S-rank hunter, the Ice Witch, Celine Carlyle.

Her cold blue eyes were locked onto Lucas, and at that moment, he felt a chill at the nape of his neck. This woman was so much more powerful than he was; he felt small in her presence. But he refused to shrink in fear. He believed he would be as powerful as her in time. After all, he had awakened as an S-rank.

Seeing that Lucas was not averting his eyes, Celine released a short but satisfied smirk. "Oh, you're not backing down... I like it." She turned toward the cops and asked, "Did he awaken as S-rank?" She had sensed the awakening mana but still wanted to confirm it. They saluted her respectfully and recounted the events. After listening and observing the aftermath, her satisfaction deepened. With a look of disgust at the still-screaming men on the ground, she waved her hand dismissively. "Take those trash away; I don't want to hear their squeals."