2025-11-15 16:59:17The rain had stopped by morning, but the cold hadn’t.
Leon woke to the sound of footsteps passing the alley—workers rushing toward their shifts, students on their way to classes, people who had places to be. People with lives. He had none of those things anymore. His clothes were stiff from dried rainwater. His back ached from sleeping against the wall. His stomach growled so loud it startled a stray dog digging through trash a few meters away. Then he remembered it. The voice. The messages. The System. For a moment he wondered if it had been a hallucination born from exhaustion and despair. But then— BEEP. A soft pulse vibrated at the base of his skull. [Good morning, Host. Survival Task still pending.] Leon inhaled sharply. It wasn’t a dream. The world was still cruel, still cold, still willing to crush him— But now, something inside him was awake. “Survive the night,” Leon muttered. “Fine. I did that.” A new tone sounded. [Task 1 Completed.] [Reward: +2 Physical Endurance.] [New Task Assigned: Secure Employment.] Leon blinked. “…Employment?” [Requirement: Must be legally hired. Under-the-table labor not accepted.] So the System wanted structure. Legitimacy. Stability. Which would’ve been easy—if the Hale Corporation hadn’t systematically blacklisted him overnight. He stood, brushed off dirt from his pants, and stepped out of the alley. The city felt different now. Not less hostile, but navigable. The System didn’t change the world—it changed his footing in it. He walked toward the commercial district, the same route he once drove in a luxury sedan. Today his shoes made squishing sounds as he stepped through puddles. --- THE FIRST ATTEMPT His first stop was a security firm. A stern man behind the desk scanned him from head to toe. “You have experience?” “Yes.” “Background check?” “Run it.” The man typed on a computer. Leon waited. The man frowned. Typed harder. His eyes narrowed. He stared at Leon with sudden suspicion. “Are you trying to play games with me?” “No. Why?” “Because your record is flagged. Red flag. Corporate-level restriction.” He leaned back. “Who did you piss off?” “Long story,” Leon said. “Well, whatever it is, we can’t hire you. Our licensing would be revoked.” Leon forced his jaw to unclench. “I understand.” He walked out. --- THE SECOND ATTEMPT At a construction site, he tried again. The supervisor, a bearded man with sunburnt skin, glanced at Leon’s soaked clothes. “You look like you could use the work.” “I can handle it.” “Alright, fill out this form. We’ll run a quick check.” Leon filled his name. Before he even signed the last box, the supervisor’s radio crackled. “Boss, background ping. This guy’s locked.” The supervisor looked uncomfortable. “Kid… whatever trouble you’re in, it’s too big for us.” Leon nodded silently. He didn’t bother trying to argue. --- THE THIRD, FOURTH, FIFTH ATTEMPT The day crawled by in humiliating repetition. Office janitor job? Rejected. Dishwasher at a diner? Rejected. Manual laborer for construction clean-up? Rejected. Every time a background check ran, the interviewer froze. The same words followed: “Corporate flag.” “Severe risk.” “Cannot proceed.” “Sorry, but no.” Leon realized it now. This wasn’t a coincidence. It wasn’t temporary. The Hale Corporation had buried him—not with evidence, but with influence. If Alexander said Leon was dangerous, then the city obeyed. No company wanted to challenge a family worth billions. Leon sat on the curb near the highway overpass. His stomach cramped from hunger. His hands shook from exhaustion. This is what they wanted, he thought. For me to disappear. A familiar beep vibrated in his skull. [Host’s emotional stability decreasing.] [Reminder: Task must be completed.] Leon exhaled a humorless laugh. “I’m trying. But you’ve seen the results.” [The System does not accept excuses. Continue.] He rubbed his face. “You’re really merciless.” [Correct. Survival requires pressure.] Leon stood again. He had no money, no home, no allies—and yet, for the first time since losing everything, he felt a spark of defiance. “If the high-end companies won’t take me, then I’ll aim lower.” --- AT THE WAREHOUSE He headed toward the industrial zone, where companies didn’t care about prestige or reputation—only bodies that could lift heavy crates. After walking until his legs trembled, he found a place called: IRONSPINE LOGISTICS — WAREHOUSE 12. The building was massive, metallic, and ugly—perfect for men who had no other options. Leon stepped inside. Workers hurried past with crates and forklifts. The air smelled of dust, sweat, and machine oil. A tall man with a clipboard blocked his path. His vest read: Shift Supervisor — Mason Briggs. Leon didn’t recognize him. But Mason recognized him. “Well, well, look who decided to descend from the heavens.” Mason’s smirk was slow and cruel. “Leon Hale. The fallen prince.” Leon froze. Mason continued, “I knew you looked familiar from the news yesterday. Can’t believe someone like you ended up here. What happened? Daddy finally got tired of cleaning up your mess?” Leon kept his voice calm. “I’m here to work.” Mason laughed. Other workers glanced over, curiosity turning into amusement. “You? Work? Do you even know what real work is?” Mason tapped the clipboard. “Says here you applied five minutes ago.” “Yes.” Mason held the clipboard up theatrically. “Well, lucky you. We’re desperate enough to need warm bodies.” Leon tensed. “But,” Mason continued, “we do background checks for official hires. Yours came back… interesting.” Leon said nothing. Mason leaned in. “Says you’re flagged for fraud. Corporate fraud. That’s serious.” “It’s a lie.” Mason shrugged. “Not my problem.” Leon clenched his fists. “If you’re not hiring, just say it.” “Oh, I’m hiring you.” Mason smiled. “But not because you’re qualified. Because humiliating you will be the highlight of my month.” Leon’s jaw tightened. Mason slapped a form into his chest. “Sign it. Temporary laborer. Zero benefits. Minimum wage. And I will treat you like a dog. You still want the job?” Leon hesitated only a moment. He needed this. The System needed this. His survival depended on it. He took the pen. “I’ll take it.” Mason’s grin widened. “Excellent. Welcome to hell.” --- THE FIRST HOURS Leon was thrown into the most grueling tasks immediately. Lifting crates heavier than they looked. Stacking boxes faster than the speed Mason barked orders. Dragging pallets across uneven floors. Dodging forklifts that sped past without warning. Every muscle burned. He slipped once, catching himself on the edge of a metal rack. Mason’s mocking voice echoed from across the warehouse: “Careful, Prince. Wouldn’t want you to break a nail.” Workers snickered. Leon ignored them. He worked through the pain, through the humiliation, through the lingering sting of his father’s final words. Hours passed. By nightfall he was shaking from exhaustion. His shirt was soaked—this time with sweat instead of rain. His hands were scraped and raw. His legs ached with every step. But he was still standing. Just as he loaded another crate, the System chimed: [Task 2 Completed: Secure Employment.] [Reward: +3 Strength, +1 Stamina.] [New Feature Unlocked: Status Panel.] Leon froze mid-motion. A translucent panel flashed before his eyes. --- STATUS PANEL — HOST: LEON HALE Level: 1 Strength: 7 (+3) Endurance: 6 (+2) Stamina: 5 (+1) Mental Fortitude: 4 Luck: 1 Skills: None Quests: Pending… System Mode: Survival Tier (Locked) --- Leon exhaled slowly. It wasn’t much. But it was a beginning. A real beginning. He closed the panel, lifted the crate with new strength, and kept going. Mason watched from across the warehouse, frowning. “…Why isn’t he breaking yet?”
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Ch. 14 — The Emotional Threshold
The bridge was silent.Too silent.Leon sat hunched against the cold metal railing, his body drained, his eyes swollen from crying — something he never thought he’d do again. The night air stung his face, but he barely felt it.He was numb.Completely, utterly numb.But inside that numbness… something stirred.A tremble.A pulse.A vibration like the faint thrum of a distant machine warming up.He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping his head with both hands.“Stop…” he whispered. “Just stop…”His thoughts weren’t thoughts anymore.They were fragments.Shards.Pieces of a shattered self.Vanessa’s laughter.Mason’s insults.Eveline’s venom.Alexander’s eyes as he signed the disownment papers.The flash of cameras.The cold warehouse concrete.The river.The brokenness.The emptiness.Everything hit him at once — a tidal wave of years of pressure collapsing inward.His breathing sped up.His pulse raced.His fingers dug into his scalp so hard he felt the sting of nails against skin.“Stop…
Ch. 13 — A Night of Despair
The storm eased sometime after midnight, but the cold didn’t lift.It wrapped itself around Leon like a second skin as he dragged himself across the cracked pavement, still shaken by the strange flashes of light and sound that had echoed through his mind.Had he imagined it?Was it a hallucination from exhaustion?The rainwater dripping from his hair made it hard to think.Harder to breathe.He didn’t go back to the warehouse.He couldn’t—not yet.Instead, his feet carried him toward the old iron bridge crossing the river at the edge of the industrial district. A lonely place. Quiet. Forgotten. Like him.By the time he reached the midpoint, the storm had died completely, leaving only the hiss of wind over the dark water.Leon gripped the railing with both hands, knuckles white.The river below was black—so dark it swallowed the reflection of the city lights. The current moved slowly, like something alive, waiting.He stared down at it.For a long time… he didn’t move.---His shoulder
Ch. 12 — The Broken Man
tThe rain came down in sheets, turning the streets into rivers of cold water that splashed against Leon’s ankles as he walked.No umbrella.No jacket.No destination.Just pain.Just emptiness.Just the weight of another humiliating day.He limped slightly—the result of a fall earlier that afternoon. Mason had “accidentally” knocked a crate off a high shelf. Leon barely dodged it, but the second crate Mason shoved after it struck Leon’s shoulder, sending him crashing onto concrete.The bruise spread down his arm like a blackened spiderweb.The supervisor only smirked.“Try not to die on shift, Hale. Paperwork annoys me.”Leon hadn’t answered.What was the point?Now, hours later, the injury burned with every step, pulsing like a reminder of how far he had fallen.Thunder cracked overhead, but the storm was nothing compared to the one raging inside him.His breath fogged the air as he crossed under a flickering streetlamp. The yellow light illuminated the soaked bandage wrapped around
Ch. 11 — The Collapse Begins
The rain hadn’t stopped.By the time Leon returned to the warehouse, his uniform clung to him like a second skin, soaked through with cold and humiliation. The night shift lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows across the empty loading bay.His steps felt heavier than they should.His chest tighter than it had ever been.He moved like a man carrying a mountain.---The storage room—his “home”—was dim and damp. A thin mattress lay in the corner, barely better than cardboard. Leon shut the door behind him and leaned his back against it, sliding down slowly until he was sitting on the floor.His body ached, but the real pain wasn’t physical.It pulsed from somewhere deeper… a place he didn’t know could hurt this much.He dropped the envelope—the final inheritance papers—onto the ground. It landed with a soft thud, like dirt hitting a coffin.Leon stared at it.“That’s it,” he breathed. “They’ve completely erased me.”His voice sounded foreign—even to himself.He had lived his whole
Ch. 10 — Eveline’s Final Knife
The warehouse break room smelled of old coffee and metal dust. Leon sat alone on a cracked plastic chair, his body still aching from the twelve-hour shift Mason had deliberately stretched just to “test his limits.” His palms were raw, his shoulders burning, his pride almost gone.Almost.He stared at his phone—one of the only things he had left that still worked since his accounts were frozen. A single message notification blinked.From: Family Attorney – UrgentHis pulse kicked hard.He opened the message.> “Leon, you need to come in. There has been a final decision regarding the Hale inheritance.”A cold weight sank into his stomach.Final decision.Something told him it wasn’t going to be in his favor.---Thirty minutes later, Leon stood outside the glass-paneled office of Mr. Whitford, the Hale family attorney. Rain drizzled down his hair, soaking through his cheap uniform. He didn’t bother wiping it off.Inside, Mr. Whitford looked uneasy—almost guilty.“Leon,” he said, rising
CHAPTER. 9 — Mason’s Threat
Leon didn’t sleep after the system awakened.How could he?That cold mechanical voice still echoed at the back of his mind, sharp as broken glass:[REBIRTH SYSTEM ACTIVATED.]His life had collapsed so brutally that something—not human—had chosen him as a “prime candidate.”And yet morning came like always, dragging him back into the world he still had to endure.The warehouse buzzed alive with forklifts, workers shouting, machinery rumbling. Leon stepped onto the floor with stiff legs and sore shoulders, head low, eyes heavy from a night without rest. He expected exhaustion.He didn’t expect to run straight into Mason Briggs.The supervisor stood near the timeclock, arms crossed, a grin already spreading across his face. Mason’s smile wasn’t friendly. It was the type that belonged to someone who loved watching things break.Especially people.“There he is,” Mason said loudly, drawing the attention of the nearby workers. “The stray dog reporting for duty.”A few workers chuckled. Other
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