2025-04-08 04:16:46"Chicken's good! Might have to pay this Golden Pot Diner a visit!" Scarface had said, licking his greasy fingers before hurling the empty takeout box at Leo's half-conscious body. The box had landed with a pathetic flop, a final insult atop the injuries.
The tattooed guy snorted, "now you know better than to run your mouth like a fucking peace of crap." Having said that, he kicked Leo one last time before following the rest of the crew.
Leo's phone had vibrated against his chest like an alarm clock from hell. Even through the haze of pain, he saw Chef Chu's name flash across the cracked screen. The irony that the phone still worked stung harder than the bruises.
He groaned and answered.
"YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING BASTARD!" Chef Chu's voice exploded through the speaker. The Cantonese curses were sharp and fast, slapping Leo's eardrums like open palms. "The customer had been calling me for the past 30 minutes that you hadn't turned up!"
"Rather than yelling at me, ask your fucking customer why he didn't inform me that he had fucking thugs in the damn building!" Leo winced. "If your fat, pot-bellied ass had come to this side of town, you would’ve gotten the same beat down. And trust me, you'd have lost 30 kilograms!"
Chef Chu felt his blood pressure rising, "I gave you a job! I gave you shelter! And this is how you repay me? You can’t even deliver a simple fucking breakfast?!"
Leo’s jaw clenched. Blood from his busted lip pooled in his mouth. He spat to the side, a mixture of rain and crimson. "I never gained anything from you, old man. Just bad attitude, bad temper and bad luck in bulk. "
Chef Chu’s breath came in angry huffs over the line. "You distribute misfortune like it's a damn flier! You’re cursed, Leo! CURSED! I should’ve never taken you in. Return my scooter and GET THE FUCK OUT of my house and out of my damn life! Tonight."
The line went dead. Just like that, his last tether to anything close to stability was cut.
Leo didn’t scream. He didn’t punch anything. He just sat there on the scooter, rain soaking through to his bones, and let the silence scream for him.
A minute passed. Then another.
Finally, he muttered, "Fuck me sideways."
With a sigh, he revved the engine. Or tried to.
The scooter groaned.
"Don’t die on me now, you stubborn piece of shit."
It responded with a shudder, then lurched forward. Leo steered it carefully through the winding, narrow mountain path. The rain intensified, drumming on his helmet like war drums.
—
Rain slashed from the sky like thrown knives, cold and unrelenting. The mountain road twisted ahead of Leo like a serpent, slick and treacherous under his tires. Thunder rolled above, low and guttural, as though the heavens themselves were growling at him. He could barely see ten feet ahead; the sheets of rain blurred his vision, mixing with the blood still clinging to his brow. His shirt stuck to his back, and each breath he took burned with cold and humiliation.
The scooter rattled beneath him like an old man with failing knees. Its once-reliable hum sputtered, faltered, then picked up again, like it too was fighting to stay alive.
Leo's hands were raw from gripping the handlebars. His knuckles, bloodied and bruised from the earlier brawl, throbbed in sync with the pulse pounding in his temple. The laughter of the thugs echoed in his head, a cruel loop that refused to die down.
Halfway down the slope, the brakes began to squeal. A horrible, high-pitched noise that drilled into Leo’s ears. He squeezed the brake lever tighter.
Nothing happened.
Panic flared.
He pressed it again. Harder.
Still nothing.
"No. No. No no no—"
The scooter picked up speed.
The wheels slipped.
"Oh God... shit... fuck!"
He leaned to the left, trying to steady it, but the road curved sharply to the right. Water splashed up, blinding him. The scooter jerked violently, tires skimming the edge of the cliffside road.
"I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay?!" he yelled into the void. "I’m sorry for being a cunt, a bastard, a fucking hothead, just... I’m sorry!"
Lightning flashed.
Thunder cracked.
The scooter veered violently to the right—
—and the world tilted.
The tires lost all traction.
Time slowed.
Leo’s heart stopped.
Then, with a sickening skid, the scooter crashed through the roadside barrier, snapping the wooden post like a twig.
Leo was airborne. For one horrible, weightless moment, he floated above the void. Then gravity grabbed him by the throat and yanked him down.
The scooter tumbled beside him, metal and sparks and screams wrapped into one chaotic symphony.
He hit the ground once—hard. Then again. And again.
The rain blurred everything.
His body rolled, bounced, then slid. Rocks tore through his clothes. Branches lashed his skin. Pain exploded in every joint, every muscle.
When he finally stopped, he was lying face down in the mud at the bottom of the ravine.
The scooter was a mangled wreck of metal ten feet away, still steaming.
Leo didn’t move.
He didn’t even have the strength to curse.
The storm continued above him, unbothered by the broken boy below.
And then, just before the darkness swallowed him whole, Leo whispered, "This... this is bullshit."
Then everything went black.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
INTO THE RIFT
The morning air hung heavy over Cinder Valley, thick with fog and the iron-scent of distant magic. The sun had barely crept over the jagged horizon, casting long shadows across the group of armed hunters that stood like sentinels on the rocky edge. Clad in a chaotic medley of armor, robes, and reinforced suits, they ranged in power from battle-hardened D-class to the almost mythical S-class. And amidst them, like a drop of ink in a vat of steel, stood Leo—the sole F-class hunter.Leo swallowed, adjusting the strap of his light pack and wondering, not for the first time, how the hell he’d been roped into this suicide mission. His hood shadowed his face, and his fingers flexed around the dagger at his side—a pitiful weapon compared to the arsenal carried by those around him.A man stepped forward from the group. Tall and broad-shouldered with a cruel scar coiling from wrist to bicep, the leader’s presence silenced murmurs before he even spoke. His voice, when it came, rolled like thunder
Task
Leo sat heavily on the now manageable bed. The now thick sci-fi walls of the cottage did little to block out the forest's ambient noise: crickets chirping in rhythm, the distant hoot of an owl, and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. With a sigh, he dismissed the creaking around him and focused his gaze forward. The moment of truth had arrived."System interface," he muttered.A familiar blue screen shimmered into existence in front of his eyes. Its glow softly illuminated his face as line after line of data scrolled past. He leaned in, eyes narrowing with anticipation. At the top of the interface, nestled between his basic info and the experience bar, was a glowing box labeled [Mission Rewards]. A grin began to tug at the corners of his mouth.He tapped it.A cascading list unfurled in the center of the window:+25 Stat PointsNew Passive Trait: EndureNew Skill: Level SenseTitle Earned: Unlikely SlayerItem: Skill Orb (Uncommon) His eyes caught the last item—Skill Orb. The
A mess
The air outside the Central Government Guild office was sharp with the scent of steel and city grime, the late afternoon sun bleeding orange across the concrete sidewalks. The hum of engines, chatter from passing hunters, and the distant whistle of automated transports painted a symphony of civilization's pulse. Amid the chaos, Leo tucked his hands into the pockets of his worn hoodie, shoulders slightly hunched, eyes fixed on the ground.His thoughts spun in quiet disarray. How did the system manage to block out its own traces from the memory extraction? The Rift data had been partially preserved, yet every moment the system had intervened was a complete void. Not even a flicker. It was as though the system had slipped through reality's fingers.Leo sighed, kicking a stray pebble. "Well, it’s not my headache," he muttered to himself. "As long as the system stays hidden, I should be fine."His eyes flickered with realization."Oh right!" he said out loud, snapping his fingers. "The mis
No complaints
"Sir, something’s jamming the signal!""Stabilize it!" Haruki barked."We can’t! It’s like... it’s like part of his memory is actively resisting extraction!"On the screen, Leo's figure blurred.The Rift twisted unnaturally, and the final moments of the fight were shrouded behind a veil of static and darkness.No matter what the technicians did, they couldn’t pierce through it.Leo, meanwhile, gritted his teeth against the pain pounding inside his skull.He could feel the System inside him — awake, furious, shielding him.{INTEGRITY MAINTAINED. SENSITIVE MEMORY SEALED.}Another surge of static rolled across the monitors.Haruki raised a hand calmly. "End the extraction."The machines powered down with a dying whine. The humming circlet unlocked itself from Leo's forehead with a click. The restraints loosened.For a moment, Leo sat there, gasping for air, drenched in cold sweat, his head swimming with nausea. Every nerve ending felt raw, exposed.A couple of technicians hurried forward
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MEMORY LANE
Two heavily armored guards escorted Leo down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. The walls were a sterile white, but the flickering overhead lights cast long, eerie shadows along the floor, making every step feel like a march toward execution.At the end of the hall stood a thick, metallic door — massive, imposing, humming faintly with energy.One of the guards stepped forward, pressed his hand against a glowing blue panel.With a hydraulic hiss, the door slid open, revealing the Memory Analysis Chamber.Leo’s breath hitched.The room was like something out of a science fiction nightmare.Cold. Metallic. Inhuman.Banks of monitors lined the far walls, displaying static-ridden images and streams of unreadable data. The scent of disinfectant was so strong it stung his nostrils. At the center of the room was the chair.It wasn’t just any chair — it looked like a mechanical throne, dark steel with thick leather straps dangling ominously from the armrests and footrests.Above it, a spider-like ar
CHAPTER TWELVE: ECHOES OF TRUTH
Leo stared at the man in front of him, his mind whirling with disbelief.The resemblance was uncanny—broad-shouldered, only that this version of Chef Chu was quite muscular, but with the same sharp brown eyes, the same thin lips that quirked when amused."Chef Chu." The name slipped out before he could stop it, like a reflex from deep confusion.The man said nothing at first. His face remained an impassive mask, betraying no emotion. Then, in a slow, calculated gesture, he motioned for Leo to sit.Director Varnes stood rigidly at attention beside him, and to his right, Kale smirked with barely concealed disdain. The sterile office, illuminated by thin bands of light from the ceiling, felt colder with every second that passed.Without wasting time, the man straightened his stance, folding his arms neatly behind his back."My name," he began, voice low and authoritative, "is Haruki Chuu. Acting President of the Central Government Guild."Leo’s brows twitched. "Haruki Chuu? So Chef Chuu w
CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE GUILD'S GRASP
At exactly one hour past Kale’s departure, the silence outside the infirmary shattered with the synchronized thud of boots. Five men dressed in pitch-black uniforms approached Leo, each one towering over him like walking tanks. Their suits shimmered faintly in the sun, armored yet seamless. Black combat gloves, steel-toed boots, and dark shades that masked their expressions — the complete image of elite enforcement.Compared to Leo’s lean frame, they were gargantuan, with shoulders so broad they could cast shadows over him. The emblem of the Central Government Guild was etched in silver on their left shoulders. One of them motioned, and without a word, Leo fell into step, flanked on all sides as they guided him toward a waiting black van. The same emblem was displayed boldly across the doors — a silver eye encased in a circle, watching everything.Leo felt their aura — steady, cold, suffocating. These men were far above his level. He could sense the difference, even if he couldn’t quan
CHAPTER TEN: VISITOR
The first thing Leo felt was the stiffness in his limbs. Then the soft humming of fluorescent lights. The antiseptic scent of the hospital wafted into his nostrils, grounding him in the present. His body was oddly light, and his chest didn’t hurt as much as he expected. He blinked groggily, his vision sharpening just in time to catch sight of Captain Draegon and Vice-Captain Nyx standing at the foot of his bed.“You’re awake,” Draegon said, voice calm and composed.Leo opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a low groan. His throat was dry, and his head still felt like it had been through a war zone.Draegon stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Leo’s shoulder, keeping him from sitting up too quickly. “Easy. You’ve been out for two days.”Leo frowned. “Two days?”Nyx gave a curt nod. “We found you in the inner floor of a Rift in Darkvale Forest. Barely breathing. Your vitals were a mess, but… now?” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “It’s like your wounds vanished overni
CHAPTER NINE: Did He Take Them Down?
The air was thick with tension as the team of D-class hunters approached the source of the unstable energy. The team halted in front of a small opening, eyeing the swirling, unstable void that stretched open before them. It was a mysterious phenomenon, one that none of them had encountered before, and the air felt charged with danger.Captain Alexander Draegon stood at the front, his sharp green eyes scanning the Rift. At 6'2", he was a tall, imposing figure with short-cropped dark brown hair and a chiseled jawline that hinted at his no-nonsense attitude. His combat specialization was swordsmanship, and he wielded a long, sleek blade that hummed with an ancient aura."I don't like this," Captain Draegon muttered, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, instinctively ready for a fight. "There's something off about this Rift."Beside him, Vice-Captain Nyx frowned, her piercing amber eyes flicking to the swirling Rift. Elara was young but capable—quick-
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