In a world of magic, you either become an adventurer for a prestigious guild or a noble—otherwise, survival is out of the question.

That was the basic idea behind this ridiculous world. Maybe I should just leave this country… How many times have I thought about that already?

Under the scorching summer sun, I lay in a field, staring at the sky, wondering how I could make money faster—just enough to survive.

"Should I register with a guild? …Not that they’d accept someone weak like me, anyway."

Maybe I had already given up on the idea from the start, so I kept looking for excuses to reject it.

But reality didn’t care about my excuses. I was already twenty, jobless, and the old man was going to kick me out soon.

As I kept thinking, I drowned in the mundane pages of my life—a life with no excitement, no adventure.

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In this world, it was strange not to be an adventurer. Everyone was born with magic, and their abilities were ranked according to certain levels—levels I wouldn’t bother explaining now. In those rankings, I was at the bottom.

"You idiot, get inside already! It's time for dinner!"

That was the one thing I never minded hearing. The old man always called me in for dinner at this time.

"I’m coming."

I headed inside, expecting him to talk my ear off while we ate. But strangely, he was silent. That wasn’t like him.

"What’s wrong, old man?"

"Damn it, I told you to stop calling me that."

"But you are old. I’m just stating facts."

"So if your father grew weak, would you call him weak? If your mother became frail, would you make her feel fragile? And if time left even the slightest mark on your beloved’s face, would you call her ugly?"

"Just get to the point."

I should’ve expected that kind of answer from him… or maybe I did, which is why I wasn’t as surprised as I thought I’d be.

"I won’t be in this world much longer. Your current earnings won’t be enough for you to live on your own. You have Ghin inside you—why not use it to live a better life?"

"You know I can’t. My Ghin is weak anyway, and guilds don’t need dead weight right now."

[Ghin—the source of power in this world. No one knows where it came from, but legend has it that when the first human awakened to this power, they saw the origin of the world and the truth of the universe. They understood its components and its causes. The mountains trembled, and the sky rained down jewels…]

A few months after that short conversation—just a few sentences, really—the old man passed away. I carried him to his grave and gave him a proper burial.

There was no dramatic twist. No hidden revelation.

His end was ordinary. And my end would be just as ordinary.

Because I wasn't special.

I wasn’t an adventurer.

I wasn’t a hero.