Aiden needed money.
That was the first, most basic problem.
The Hunter Association had let him go, but they sure as hell didn't hand out "congratulations on surviving an S-Rank Rift" bonuses. He had nothing—no savings, no support, no guild to back him. And while Hunters were paid based on Rift clearances, F-Tiers barely got scraps.
Aiden wasn't even sure if he was an F-Tier anymore.
He sat on the edge of a rusted bench in a quiet corner of the city, staring at the job listings on his Hunter-issued device. His fingers hovered over the screen, scrolling through the lowest-ranked missions available.
[Hunter System: Mission Listings]
[E-Tier Rift – Hunters Needed]
[Status: Low Threat Estimated Combat Level: E to D-Tier]
[Recommended Reward: 1000 Credits + Material Drops]
A Rift cleanup.
No one in their right mind wanted cleanup jobs. They were low-paying, dull, and occasionally dangerous if the Rift hadn't been fully stabilized. But that was exactly what Aiden needed—something where he could blend in.
He wasn't here to fight.
He was here to see if he had actually changed—or if his mind was just broken.
Aiden was about to confirm his application when his phone buzzed.
His stomach sank.
Only one group of people ever messaged him.
[Kain Family Group Chat]
His fingers curled into a fist before he even opened it.
Aiden had spent his entire life having messages read out loud to him. The synthetic voice repeating every cruel comment in its flat, emotionless tone.
Now, for the first time, he could see the words himself.
And somehow, that made them worse.
Cailen Kain: You survived an S-Rank Rift?
Lena Kain: Are they serious? There's no way.
Reiss Kain: What, did you run and let everyone else die?
Aiden exhaled through his nose.
Of course.
No congratulations. No concern. Just disbelief.
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Because to them, he was still the blind, useless failure of the Kain family.
Cailen Kain: The Association already gave their report. They're calling it an anomaly. Figures. Just another fluke.
Aiden clenched his jaw.
A fluke.
That's all he had ever been to them. Even before he had ever stepped foot inside a Rift. Even before he had proven he could survive.
Lena Kain: You should quit while you're ahead. Whatever happened in that Rift, it won't happen again.
Reiss Kain: You got lucky. That's all.
His thumb hovered over the Leave Chat button.
Then he hesitated.
Slowly, he tapped the settings icon and disabled Text-to-Voice.
It felt… final. Like he was closing a door on his old life.
His entire world had been built around that robotic voice. From the first time he had held a phone, it had been his only connection to words on a screen. Now, he didn't need it anymore.
It should have felt like a victory.
Instead, it just felt strange.
He blinked down at the messages again, then typed manually.
Aiden Kain: Maybe.
Then he shut the screen off and accepted the Rift cleanup mission.
Aiden stood, stretching his sore limbs. His ribs still ached—his body still wasn't fully recovered. But as he moved, something felt... different.
Then—
[PASSIVE SYNCHRONIZATION INITIATED.]
[USER PHYSICAL LIMITS ADJUSTING…]
[STAT ADJUSTMENT: REFLEX +0.2 | AGILITY +0.3]
[SYSTEM WARNING: FULL ACTIVATION NOT YET REACHED.]
Aiden froze.
That was new.
The System hadn't updated since the hospital.
But now—it was registering something.
His reflexes and agility had increased. Not much. Barely noticeable.
But it was there.
Aiden's fingers curled into fists.
His stats weren't stuck anymore.
And that meant his F-Rank status wasn't permanent.
The meeting spot for the Rift raid was an old loading dock near the city's outer district—one of the many places where low-ranked Hunters gathered before missions.
It was rundown, dimly lit, with a few makeshift benches and a table covered in mission paperwork. A handful of E-Tier Hunters stood around, checking gear or chatting like this was just another day. The only one who stood out was their leader—a D-Tier, judging by the way she carried herself.
Aiden kept his hood up, staying toward the edges.
The less attention he got, the better.
Then someone scoffed nearby.
"Great. Another stray."
Aiden turned his head slightly, his eyes landing on the speaker—a broad-shouldered guy with a scar cutting down his cheek, wearing cheap, reinforced armor.
He didn't recognize the face.
But the voice?
Something about it was familiar—not the words, but the tone. The kind of arrogant, dismissive tone he'd heard his whole life.
"I thought we were already scraping the bottom of the barrel," the guy muttered. "Didn't know they were hiring straight off the street now."
Aiden didn't react.
He'd heard worse.
A girl sitting on the table nearby—**lean, dark-haired, flipping a knife between her fingers—**snorted.
"Leave him alone, Garrick. Maybe he's bait."
"Tess, don't waste your breath. Kid's a lost cause."
Some laughter rippled through the group.
Aiden exhaled.
Yeah. This was gonna be fun.
"Alright, settle down," a new voice cut in.
This one was different. Sharper. More controlled. Not mocking, but firm.
Aiden shifted his gaze. A woman had stepped forward—short, built like a runner, with sharp eyes that looked like they missed nothing.
Her name tag read Jenna Vale.
The name meant nothing to him. He had no reason to recognize her.
But the way her voice carried weight told him all he needed to know—she was the squad lead.
"Don't care who you are or why you're here," Jenna said, looking over the team. "Just follow orders, don't do anything stupid, and try not to die. This is a cleanup, not a real raid. Stick together, and we'll be fine."
She looked at Aiden.
"You. Name?"
Aiden met her gaze, keeping his voice even.
"Kain."
Jenna narrowed her eyes slightly.
Then she shrugged.
"Whatever. You're team three. Hope you can keep up."
Aiden nodded, falling into step as the Hunters finished prepping.
The Gate loomed in the distance, a swirling blue Rift pulsing faintly in the evening light.
He wasn't sure what he'd find inside.
But something deep in his gut told him—
This wasn't going to be just another cleanup mission.