The SSS Talent That Wasn't Supposed to Exist

The high-frequency hum of the scanning machine shook the marble floor of Astra University's Central Hall. The dense smell of ozone and burnt metal settled in the air, mingling with the cold sweat of hundreds of closely lined-up freshmen. Floating dimly above the main stage was a two-meter black crystal cube—the Resonance Pillar, a device that determined a person's life destiny in seconds.

"Next!" shouted an officer in tactical armor, his heavy voice distorted by the speaker on his chest.

A young man at the front stepped forward with trembling knees. He pressed his palm against the crystal's surface. A bright blue light shot upward, illuminating the entire hall.

[Talent Detected] [Name: Swift Blade] [Rank: B-Class]

Boisterous cheers echoed from the right corner of the hall. Breathing a sigh of relief, the young man's tense shoulders instantly relaxed as he walked toward the elite class section. In a world where dimensional rift invasions were a daily reality, Talent rank was a guarantee of survival, social status, and a future.

"Next: Arka Pratama!"

Instantly, the random whispers converged into a single wave of speculation. Hundreds of eyes turned toward the tall figure standing casually in the middle row. Arka merely adjusted his thin-framed glasses, brushing back the strands of black hair slightly covering his forehead.

"Finally, the Genius is up," whispered a female student on the left.

"He's the one who solved the mana wave calculation formula in last semester's exam, right? Even the professors couldn't keep up."

"It's definitely S-Class. At least A-Class. He knows mana theory inside out; there's no way the system gives him a cheap Talent."

Arka stepped through the crowd with steady, unwavering footsteps. He could feel the expectant gazes from the VIP stage, where deans and representatives of the Hunter Guild sat watching. They were awaiting the birth of a new asset. Arka himself felt a strange throb in the left side of his chest—a warm vortex of energy that had been churning since morning, as if demanding to be released.

He stopped in front of the Resonance Pillar. Cold air radiated from the black crystal, making the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"Place your right hand, Arka. Take a deep breath," instructed the scanning officer, holding a log tablet, ready to type Arka's name at the top of the rankings.

Arka nodded slowly. He exhaled, letting his fingers touch the ice-smooth surface of the crystal.

Bzzzt.

The Resonance Pillar vibrated violently. The carved patterns on the crystal lit up bright red, then turned yellow, green, and finally glowing deep purple—the initial indicator of a high-tier Talent. The air in the hall suddenly grew heavy, pressurized by a drastic surge in mana fluctuations. The university rector on the upper stage even stood up from his seat.

Arka closed his eyes, feeling the warm energy from the crystal flow into his veins, seeking resonance with his soul. However, right at the peak of that energy surge, a faint click sounded from inside the stage—like gears suddenly locking by force.

The majestic purple glow instantly died out.

The crystal's color faded drastically, turning into a dull, pale gray. The giant hologram board above the stage unfolded, displaying line after line of rigid neon text.

[Talent Detected] [Name: Storyteller] [Rank: F-Class]

The massive room containing over a thousand people fell dead silent.

The ticking of the wall clock in the corner of the Central Hall sounded exceptionally loud, cutting through the chilling silence. There was no majestic glow. No remaining ripples of mana. There was only gray text that seemed to mock every expectation built up since morning.

Arka pulled his hand back from the crystal. He stared at his own palm, then looked up at the holographic screen above. His brow furrowed deeply.

Storyteller?

The surge of mana in his body that had been churning violently just moments ago vanished without a trace, leaving a bewildering sense of emptiness. He knew the catalog of thousands of Talents recorded in modern history inside out—from Elementalist and Berserker to support civil Talents like Blacksmith or Alchemist. But Storyteller? Even low-tier support Talents usually bore names like Scribe or Librarian.

The scanning officer froze, his fingers hovering over the tablet screen, forgetting how to type.

"F... F-Class?" the officer muttered, his voice catching the microphone and carrying across the entire hall.

Then, the silence broke.

Snickers from the back rows spread rapidly like wildfire on oil. Within seconds, the entire Central Hall erupted into a wave of loud laughter and mockery.

"Am I seeing things?! Storyteller?!"

"F-Class! The Genius got F-Class!"

"What's he gonna do in the dimensional rifts? Tell the monsters bedtime stories until they fall asleep?!"

"Seriously, all that theory is useless if your Talent can only make bedtime stories! Hahaha!"

The cheers that had contained praise just minutes ago turned into pitiful looks, taunts, and veiled satisfaction from those who had long envied Arka. The university dean sat back down with a flat expression, immediately looking away as if Arka no longer existed. The Hunter Guild representatives shut off their recording screens without interest.

Arka didn't reply to a single taunt. He stood silently in the middle of the stage, absorbing the bitter reality that had just struck him. His hands clenched into fists inside his pants pockets, but his face remained calm—a self-defense mechanism honed over a long time.

"Arka Pratama. Please clear the scanning area immediately," the officer said, his tone now cold and lifeless.

Arka gave a brief nod. Without lingering, he turned and stepped down from the stage. His shoes tapped against the marble floor with a constant rhythm amidst the boisterous laughter trailing behind him. He walked past the crowd of students, who now parted ways while whispering taunts.

The hall slowly returned to business, calling the next name. The crowd shifted, their attention quickly diverting to a new candidate.

Arka kept walking toward the giant steel exit doors at the end of the Central Hall. As he stepped into the shadow of the doorway and onto the quiet outer corridor, he let out a long breath, releasing the tightness in his chest.

Just as he stepped beyond the scan zone's range, a thin transparent panel glowed dimly in the corner of his right eye—a private interface visible only to its owner.

The gray F-Class text suddenly glitched heavily, like a television losing its signal. Crimson light streaks abruptly slashed through the text.

[Classification Error.] [Re-evaluating Soul Core...]

A pulse of pure, ancient mana suddenly burned warmly at the base of Arka's heart. However, that surge lasted for only a fraction of a second.

The red text blinked once and vanished silently, resetting the system display to a blank, dormant status.

Arka continued down the corridor, removing his glasses to wipe his weary face, completely unaware that his system screen had just cracked and rewritten his fate.