The blond boy, whose name Zack later learned was Kael, scrambled backward on the pavement. His face was a mix of bright red shame and pure anger.
"You... you tripped me!" Kael shouted, pointing a shaking finger at Zack.
Zack stood there, his hands held up in a gesture of innocent panic. He looked like a startled deer. "I am so sorry! The pavement is cracked right there. Are you hurt? Do you need a Healer?"
He took a step forward, offering his hand to help Kael up. To the crowd of students watching, it looked like a kind, clumsy support student trying to help.
To Kael, it looked like mockery.
"Don't touch me, trash!" Kael slapped Zack's hand away and jumped to his feet. He dusted off his expensive, tailored combat uniform. He leaned in close to Zack, his voice a low hiss. "You think you're funny? You just made a very big mistake, Support. I'm Kael Vane. My father owns the Vane Guild. I'm going to make your life here a living hell."
Zack looked into Kael's eyes.
Zack's stats were 50.0 across the board. He was a perfect D-Rank Hunter. Kael was, at best, a high E-Rank. Zack could see the slow pulse of the boy's blood in his neck. He could see the uneven way Kael stood, favoring his right leg. He could smell the fear sweat under the expensive cologne.
Zack didn't feel fear. He felt... bored.
"I'm really sorry, Kael," Zack said, his voice trembling just the right amount. "I'll... I'll stay out of your way."
Kael sneered, bumped Zack's shoulder hard as he walked past, and marched through the Academy gates with his two lackeys. The crowd of students dispersed, losing interest now that the show was over.
Zack let out a breath and adjusted his bag. He looked up at the massive gates of the Central Awakened Academy.
It didn't look like a school. It looked like a military base mixed with a high-tech fortress. The walls were fifty feet high, made of reinforced concrete and spell-hardened steel. Guard towers stood at every corner, manned by Hunters with sniper rifles. Above the main building, a faint blue shimmer showed that a powerful magical barrier was active.
"So this is where I spend the next six months," Zack whispered. "Prison with homework."
He walked through the gates. The campus was enormous. There were thousands of students. Most of them were wearing the gray tracksuits of the draftees, but there were plenty of colorful, custom armors worn by the rich kids who had been attending the Academy before the draft.
The separation was immediate and obvious.
The students with the COMBAT CLASS patches walked down the center of the wide paths. They were loud, confident, and took up space.
The students with the SUPPORT CLASS patches—Healers, Porters, Crafters, and Analysts—walked on the edges, heads down, trying not to be noticed.
Zack joined the stream of Support students. He kept his head down, blending in. He felt like a tiger hiding in a herd of sheep.
He checked his watch.
08:15 AM. Orientation in the Grand Hall.
He followed the crowd to a massive, dome-shaped building in the center of the campus. Inside, it was like a stadium. Rows and rows of seats climbed up the walls.
"Combat Classes, floor level!" a voice boomed over the speakers. "Support Classes, upper balconies!"
Zack climbed the stairs to the cheap seats. He found a spot near the back and sat down. He looked down at the floor level.
It was a sea of warriors and mages. He scanned the crowd, his 50.0 Spirit giving him enhanced eyesight.
He found them.
Emily, Ben, and Maya were sitting together near the front. Emily looked annoyed, her arms crossed. Ben looked like he was trying to sleep sitting up. Maya was sharpening a dagger, ignoring the nervous looks from the students around her.
They were D-Rank (Intermediate) Hunters. In this school of mostly E-Ranks, they were elites. They stood out.
Zack smiled. They'll be fine. I just need to survive the boredom.
The lights dimmed. A spotlight hit the stage at the bottom of the hall.
A man walked out. He was tall, with gray hair cut short and a scar running down his left cheek. He wore a military uniform with the Hunter Association crest.
The pressure coming off him was real. Zack felt it even from the balcony.
B-Rank, Zack analyzed. Maybe A-Rank.
"I am Headmaster Vance," the man said. He didn't shout, but his voice carried to every corner of the room without a microphone. "Welcome to the Academy."
He paused, looking at the thousands of faces.
"Look to your left. Look to your right."
The students obeyed, looking at each other nervously.
"One of the people you just looked at will likely be dead in six months."
A gasp went through the hall.
"This is not a school," Vance continued, his voice cold. "This is a forge. The world has changed. The dungeons have changed. The monsters are evolving. If you do not get stronger, you will die. We are here to make sure you don't die alone."
He pointed to the Combat students on the floor.
"You are the sword. Your job is to kill."
He pointed to the Support students on the balcony.
"You are the shield. Your job is to make sure the sword doesn't break. You are not lesser. But you are different. If the sword breaks, the battle is lost. If the shield breaks... the sword dies next."
Zack listened. It was a good speech. It was designed to scare them. And it was working. The kids around him were shaking.
"Today," Vance said, "we begin with assessments. We need to know what you are. Not what your rank says on a piece of paper, but what you are. You will be divided by class. Report to your designated training halls immediately."
The lights came up. The orientation was over.
"Well," Zack whispered, standing up. "Here we go."
Zack was herded along with two hundred other Healers to "Training Hall C."
It was a large, sterile gymnasium with white mats on the floor. The air smelled of antiseptic.
Three instructors waited for them. They wore white lab coats over their armor.
"Line up!" the lead instructor barked. "I am Instructor Haines. I am a C-Rank Healer. Today, we are testing your Mana Capacity and your Stamina. A Healer with no mana is useless. A Healer who gets tired and can't run away is a corpse."
Zack stood in the back row. He looked at the other Healers. Most were skinny, nervous kids who had awakened weak abilities. Some were older draftees who looked terrified.
"First test!" Haines yelled. "The Mana Pressure Machine."
He pointed to a large, black metal box in the corner of the room. It hummed with a low vibration.
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"This machine emits a localized field of heavy mana," Haines explained. "It feels like gravity. It feels like being underwater. You will stand in the circle. I will turn the dial up. If you faint, you fail. If you step out, you fail. We start at F-Rank pressure. We go up to C-Rank."
The students murmured.
"Group One! Step up!"
Ten students walked into the circle painted on the floor.
Haines turned a dial on the machine.
HUMMM.
The air inside the circle shimmered.
Three students collapsed instantly, foaming at the mouth.
"Weak!" Haines shouted. "Medics, drag them out! Group One, stay there. Increasing to E-Rank!"
He turned the dial.
Five more students dropped to their knees, gasping for air. Only two remained standing, shaking violently.
"Passable," Haines grunted. "Next group!"
Zack watched. It was a simple test of the Spirit stat. The higher your Spirit, the more mental resistance you had.
Most of these kids probably had 10 or 15 Spirit.
Zack had 50.0.
He did the math. 50.0 Spirit was the baseline for a D-Rank (Beginner). He should be able to stand easily.
But I can't stand easily, he reminded himself. I have to struggle. I have to look weak.
"Group Four!" Haines yelled. "Cole! Miller! Sato! Get in there!"
Zack walked into the circle. He stood next to a girl who was already hyperventilating.
"Begin!"
The machine hummed. The pressure hit him.
It felt... like a light breeze.
Zack blinked. That was it? That was F-Rank pressure?
The girl next to him screamed and fell over. A boy on his other side vomited.
Zack quickly bent his knees, hunching his shoulders. He tried to make his face look pained. "Oh... oh no..." he muttered, trying to sound strained.
"Increasing to E-Rank!" Haines yelled.
The hum got louder. The pressure increased. Now it felt like wearing a heavy backpack.
Zack looked around. Of the ten people in his group, only three were left standing. The other two were shaking, sweat pouring down their faces.
Zack wasn't sweating. His 50.0 Spirit and 50.0 Stamina barely noticed the load.
I need to sweat, he thought. How do I sweat on command?
He decided to hold his breath. He tensed every muscle in his body, straining against nothing. His face turned red. A vein popped out on his forehead.
"Good!" Haines yelled, looking at him. "Fight it! Don't give in!"
"Increasing to E-Rank (High)!"
The pressure jumped again.
The other two students collapsed.
Zack was the only one left standing in Group Four.
Haines looked impressed. "Not bad, kid. What's your name?"
"Zack..." Zack wheezed, putting on his best acting performance. "Zack... Cole..."
"Alright, Cole. Let's see if you can handle D-Rank."
Crap, Zack thought. If I handle D-Rank, I stand out.
Haines reached for the dial.
Zack waited for the dial to click. The moment the machine hummed louder, Zack let his eyes roll back in his head.
"Uhh..." he groaned.
He let his legs give out. He crumpled to the floor, making sure to land safely but looking like a sack of potatoes.
"Cut it!" Haines yelled. The pressure vanished.
"Medic! Check him."
A medical aide ran over and put a finger on Zack's neck.
Zack slowed his breathing, trying to act unconscious.
"He's out cold, sir," the medic said. "But his pulse is strong."
"Good effort," Haines nodded, marking something on his clipboard. "He lasted two seconds into D-Rank pressure. That puts him at high E-Rank potential. Put him in the 'B' class for Healers."
Zack mentally cheered. 'B' Class. Not the elite 'A' class, but not the trash 'C' class. Perfectly average. Perfectly invisible.
He let the medics drag him to the recovery bench, where he "woke up" a few minutes later, acting dazed.
The rest of the day was a blur of physical tests.
The Sprint: Zack had to run a mile. He could have done it in three minutes. He forced himself to run it in eight, panting and wheezing the whole time, while secretly not breaking a sweat.
The Strength Test: A grip strength machine. He squeezed it just enough to register a "25" (average E-Rank), pretending to strain with all his might, while his real strength of 50.0 could have crushed the handle into dust.
By 4:00 PM, he was exhausted. Not from the exercise, but from the acting. It was incredibly hard work to move normally when his body wanted to explode with power. Every step felt like he was walking in slow motion.
He walked to the cafeteria. It was huge, loud, and segregated. Combat students sat at the good tables near the windows. Support students sat in the middle.
He got a tray of gray-looking mash and mystery meat.
"Zack!"
He turned. Emily was waving at him from a table near the window. She was sitting with Ben and Maya.
Strictly speaking, Support students weren't supposed to sit there. But Emily was a D-Rank (Mid) Combat student. No one was going to tell her what to do.
Zack walked over, ignoring the glares from the other Combat students.
"Hey," he said, sitting down. "How was the elite life?"
"Boring," Maya said, stabbing a potato. "We spent four hours hitting magic dummies. I broke two of them. The instructor yelled at me."
"They put me in Class A," Emily said. "Top of the class. Ben is in A too. Maya is in A."
She looked at Zack. "What about you?"
"Class B," Zack smiled. "Healer track."
"Class B?" Ben frowned. "But you're..."
"Shh," Zack kicked Ben under the table. "I'm a Healer. Class B is perfect. It means I'm competent, but not special."
"Well, 'Competent'," a sneering voice came from behind them. "You're sitting in my seat."
Zack sighed. He knew that voice.
He turned around.
Kael Vane stood there. He had showered and changed into a fresh uniform. He was flanked by two large boys—one holding a spear, the other wearing brass knuckles.
"I didn't see a name on it," Zack said politely.
"It's a Combat table," Kael spat. "Support trash eats in the trough. Get moving."
Emily stood up. Her chair scraped loudly against the floor. The cafeteria went silent.
"Is there a problem here?" Emily asked, her voice cold.
Kael looked at Emily. He saw the D-Rank (Mid) aura around her. He saw Ben, who was slowly standing up, his massive frame casting a shadow over the table. He saw Maya, who was idly twirling a steak knife.
Kael swallowed. He was a bully, but he wasn't stupid. He couldn't take a full team of D-Ranks.
"No problem," Kael said, forcing a smile. "Just telling your pet the rules. But I guess if he needs his mommy to protect him, he can stay."
He looked at Zack with pure hatred.
"Watch your back, Healer," Kael whispered. "You won't always have your bodyguards."
Kael and his goons walked away.
Ben sat back down, growling. "I should have snapped him in half."
"No," Zack said calmly, eating a spoonful of mash. "That's what he wants. He wants a fight. He wants to prove he's tough."
"He threatened you," Emily said, her eyes worried.
"Let him," Zack said. He looked at Kael's retreating back.
To Zack, Kael looked like a toddler threatening a tank.
"I can handle Kael," Zack said. "Don't worry about me."
The day ended. Zack drove home, his body itching with unspent energy.
He had spent the whole day pretending to be weak. He had suppressed his power. He had let a weakling insult him.
He needed to let it out.
He walked into his house, threw his bag on the couch, and went straight to the study.
He locked the door.
"System," he said, his voice vibrating with anticipation. "Enter Parallel Dimension."
The gray void appeared.
[Welcome, Host. Rank: D (Beginner). D-Rank Dimension Selected.]
[Note: The D-Rank Dimension is different. It is not a single room. It is a persistent world.]
Zack blinked. Persistent world?
The gray mist cleared.
He wasn't in a room. Or a graveyard. Or a crypt.
He was standing on a cliff edge.
Below him stretched a massive, dark forest. The trees were twisted and black, their leaves purple. In the distance, he could see mountains that pierced the sky. A red moon hung low in the air.
The air smelled of ozone and blood.
[Zone 1: The Shadow-Weald.]
[Monsters: D-Rank (Beginner) to D-Rank (Advanced).]
[Objective: Hunt.]
A howl echoed from the forest below. It was a deep, resonant sound that shook the leaves.
It wasn't one wolf. It was a pack.
And they sounded hungry.
Zack smiled. His kind mask fell away completely. His eyes glowed with the purple light of the God-Eater.
He didn't have to pretend here. He didn't have to be weak.
He flexed his hands, and the dark aura exploded around him, coating his arms in living shadow.
"Finally," he whispered.
He jumped off the cliff, diving straight into the dark forest.
[Reader's Note: Zack's Stats : ]
Rank: D (Beginner) / (System Rank: D (Beginner))
Class: Healer / God-Eater (Mythical)
Strength: 50.0
Agility: 50.0
Stamina: 50.0
Spirit: 50.0
Defense: 50.0