The morning clawed at Suka's eyes, a harsh light slicing through the thin curtains. Each muscle ached, a dull throb echoing the previous day's whirlwind. He dragged himself from the cot, the cheap springs groaning in protest. Cold water sluiced over his skin, a shock that sharpened his senses, washing away the lingering haze of sleep. He pulled on worn trousers, a faded tunic, his mind already on the market, the equipment he desperately needed.
As his hand closed around the doorknob, the door to the opposite room burst open. Kael stood there, a predatory glint in his eye, clad in reinforced leather, a faint reddish aura clinging to him like heat haze. He looked like an aggressive spark, ready to incinerate the day.
"Looks like you finally crawled out of your hole," Kael sneered, a small, cruel grin spreading across his face. "Came face to face with your failures, did you?" Suka's shoulders tensed. He'd hoped to slip out unseen, to avoid the apartment's usual morning gauntlet.
"I didn't fail to awaken yesterday," Suka replied, his voice flat, a carefully constructed shield. "So, no. I'm not a failure."
Kael's grin faltered, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly. The unexpected defiance caught him off guard. "Why didn't you say anything then?" Kael demanded, his voice rising, a hint of genuine surprise lacing his words. "When Borin asked? Ashamed of the class you got?" He stepped closer, his gaze raking over Suka. "Heard the later you awaken, the weaker the class. What did you pull?"
Suka's body stiffened, a silent alarm blaring in his mind. He would not expose his class, not to Kael, not to anyone here. "It's none of your business," Suka said, his jaw tight. He turned, reaching for the main door. "I'm leaving."
Kael's laughter, sharp and dismissive, followed him into the hallway. "Must be a truly shitty class if you're running away that fast!" Suka ignored the taunt, the words a dull thrum against the rising beat of his own thoughts. He navigated the worn steps, the grimy communal hall, until the heavy main door groaned shut behind him. The cool morning air, thick with the scent of exhaust and distant cooking, offered a brief respite.
A taxi or walk? His meager savings, a paltry five thousand credits, weighed heavily. The decision hung in the air, a familiar burden. His comm-ring vibrated, a jolt of anxiety sparking through him. The caller ID flashed: *Supervisor, Mana Furnace*.
"Suka, why aren't you at work?" The supervisor's voice, a gravelly rasp, crackled through the tiny speaker. "Your shift started at six. It's half past."
Suka swallowed, the lie forming on his tongue. "Boss, I was just about to call. Not feeling well. I think I stayed outside too long yesterday."
A sharp sigh. "You should have said something earlier. I could have put someone else on the roster. This is your first written warning. And you better come in tomorrow with a doctor's note, or I'll deduct from your pay."
Suka's heart sank. Forty credits a day. Twenty-five days a month. This job, once his only lifeline, now felt like a lead weight. "I promise, boss," Suka managed, the words catching in his throat. "I'll be there tomorrow." "You better be," the supervisor snapped. "Second warning if you don't." The line went dead.
Suka lowered his hand, the comm-ring still warm against his palm. He sighed, a long, weary exhalation. Why hadn't he just quit? Awakened, he no longer needed the grueling furnace work. Mana stones from monsters, materials for supporting classes – that was where the real money lay. He decided to walk. Every credit saved was a credit earned.
The market stretched an hour and a half away, a journey he would fill with observations. He watched the other Awakeners, their confident strides, the subtle glow of their auras. He studied their equipment, the polished blades, the intricate armor, the wands humming with contained power. These were the tools of survival, of prosperity. One day, he would have them too.
The city, a sprawling beast of concrete and glimmering mana conduits, blurred around him. Most equipment, he knew, came from supporting classes. Combat Awakeners hunted, brought back monster corpses. The UGS offered a convenient service: trade the whole corpse for processed materials and a mana stone. Or, dismantle it yourself. Most chose the UGS, avoiding the messy work. These raw materials, bone, hide, sometimes meat flowed into the hands of crafters, alchemists, blacksmiths. Supporting classes, a whopping 70% of all Awakeners, turned them into the gear that fueled the combatants. Only boss monsters, and occasionally elites, dropped ready-made equipment.
Before he realized it, the market hummed around him. A cacophony of shouts, the scent of exotic spices mingling with worked leather and polished metal, filled the air. Stalls bristled with weapons, armor, arcane devices.
"Good flame sword here!" a burly man roared, brandishing a blade that pulsed with faint heat. "Warrior class, minimum level twenty! Slay a thousand before maintenance! Great stats!"
Suka moved through the throng, his eyes scanning for a wand, a rope. Anything within his paltry five thousand credits. Most items, he quickly discovered, started at twenty thousand, four times his entire budget. He searched for hours, the hope slowly draining from him. Nothing.
Finally, he approached Zapiro Tradings, a towering structure of polished glass and steel, a beacon of commerce in the market's chaos. They bought and sold everything, often scrapping older gear. Maybe, just maybe, they had something.
Behind a polished counter, a young woman sat, her smile a beacon of warmth. It promised to soothe even the most savage beast into a docile pup.
"Good afternoon, Sir," she said, her voice like chimes. "How may I help you today?" "I'm looking for equipment about to be scrapped," Suka began, laying out his vulnerability. "I just awakened. A mage class. I need something to increase my mana. Only have five thousand credits."
Her fingers danced across a holographic keyboard. A soft chime. Her smile widened. "You're in luck. We were actually about to scrap these materials in an hour. Your budget is quite low, but we do have two items that fit." She gestured to a display.
**RING OF THE INTELLIGENCE - E-RANK**
**REQUIREMENTS: LEVEL 1, ALL CLASS**
**STATS: INTELLIGENCE - +10**
**NECKLACE OF HARMONY - E-RANK** **REQUIREMENTS: LEVEL 1, ALL CLASS**
**STATS: INTELLIGENCE - +5**
**CONSTITUTION - +5**
Suka's breath hitched. The Ring alone would double his mana. But the Necklace… it offered a boost to his health, his defenses. His mind raced. He only needed to summon a few skeletons, stow them in his talent pocket. Health felt more critical right now.
He pointed. "The necklace." It cost exactly five thousand credits. The metal was dull, the chain worn, the gem chipped. It might last a few months. He paid, the transaction swift, and left, the necklace a new weight around his neck.
Back at the apartment, he found it blissfully empty. He made quick work of a meal, the bland taste of processed nutrient paste a familiar comfort. In his room, the blue screen flickered into existence.
**NAME: SUKA**
**CLASS: NECROMANCER**
**LEVEL: 1 (0/100 EXP)**
**STATS:**
**STRENGTH - 10 (100 Attack Power, +100% Critical Damage)**
**AGILITY - 10 (10 km/h, 10% Critical Chance)**
**INTELLIGENT - 15 (150 MP, 1.5 MP/10 sec)**
**CONSTITUTION - 15 (150 HP, 1.5 HP/10 sec, 15 Defense(Attack Negation))**
**SKILLS:**
**SKELETON SUMMON( F-RANK) - Use 100 MP to summon 1 skeleton, with stats of (10 HP, 1 Defense, 10 Attack, 1km/h).**
**UNDERWORLD POCKET( F- RANK) - Store your summon in this pocket dimension. Your summons recovers 1% HP/1 min and 1% MP/1 min. You can store 10 summons( 10 x your level).**
**TALENT:**
**OVERWHELMING ARMY- You have an additional pocket dimension that can store unlimited summons. In this dimension any summon you store here experience fission every hour(summons duplicate every hour). Current stored summons: 1 048 576**
"My status has improved," Suka murmured, a faint smile touching his lips. "But this… this is the real change." His gaze fixed on the talent section. "Yesterday, I summoned one skeleton, then went to sleep around ten. I've been busy all day, looking for equipment. It's 6:32 pm now. More than twenty hours." He traced the numbers. "One summon turned into over a million. This talent… it's terrifying."
He traced the lines of his talent, his secret army silently multiplying, hour by hour, in a dimension unseen. Tomorrow. He needed a plan for tomorrow.