Takumi noticed the glow first.
It pulsed faintly beneath his sleeve, a soft ring of light wrapped around his wrist like a brand that hadn't finished burning. Every few seconds it throbbed, responding to something only it could hear.
The System.
He kept his hands buried in his pockets as he walked, shoulders tense, eyes scanning reflections in windows and passing cars. Nothing looked different. The city didn't bow. Sirens still screamed in the distance. People still hurried past him with their heads down.
And yet—
He wasn't the same person who'd entered the testing facility.
When he reached the apartment, his sister was sitting at the table, legs swinging anxiously.
"You're late," she said.
"Yeah," Takumi replied. "Had to pick up extra work."
She eyed him suspiciously, then nodded, accepting the lie because she needed it to be true.
That night, Takumi didn't sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, the System whispered—not in words, but in presence. Like a machine waiting patiently for him to acknowledge it.
At 3:17 a.m., the interface finally activated.
[Hunter Initialization Complete.]
[Status Access Unlocked.]
A translucent screen bloomed in the air before him.
Takumi froze.
It wasn't holographic in the way technology was. It felt closer. Like it existed half a step inside his skull.
Name: Takumi Hanabira
Rank: E
Level: 1
Condition: Stable
Below it, a list of stats he didn't recognize but somehow understood instinctively.
Strength. Agility. Vitality. Perception. Adaptability.
They were low.
Painfully low.
So this is what I'm worth, he thought.
Another prompt appeared.
[Mandatory Orientation: Tomorrow, 0900.]
[Attendance Required.]
No option to decline.
Takumi exhaled slowly and leaned back against the wall. Somewhere down the hall, his sister coughed in her sleep.
"I'll make this work," he whispered. "I have to."
---
The Hunter Orientation Facility was nothing like the recruitment posters.
No shining halls. No triumphant banners.
Just reinforced concrete, cold steel, and people who looked like they'd already seen too much for their age.
Takumi sat among them in a long briefing room, posture straight, hands folded. He counted exits without realizing it. Old habit. Survival habit.
A man entered at the front—scarred face, missing two fingers, System interface glowing a dull blue around his forearm.
"Listen up," the man said. "I'm not here to inspire you."
Good. Takumi hated speeches.
"I'm here to keep you alive long enough to be useful."
The room fell silent.
"You've all been selected because the System thinks you might survive," the man continued. "Not because you're special. Not because you're chosen. Because statistically, you have a higher chance of not dying immediately."
Someone laughed nervously.
The man's eyes snapped to them. "That funny to you?"
The laugh died.
"Hunting is simple," he said. "You receive missions. You complete them. You grow stronger. Or you die. Disobedience is punished. Hesitation is punished. Cowardice is punished."
He tapped his wrist. "Your System will warn you once. Hurt you twice. Kill you the third time."
Takumi's jaw tightened.
"This isn't a job," the man finished. "It's a filter. The weak are removed."
Orientation ended with assignments.
Takumi's name appeared on the screen, paired with five others—none of them familiar.
[Team Assignment: Temporary Unit 47.]
[Mission Readiness: 72 Hours.]
Seventy-two hours.
Three days to become something other than prey.
---
Training was brutal, fast, and mercilessly efficient.
There was no warm-up period. No easing in.
The System adjusted gravity without warning. Simulated threats attacked from blind angles. Pain inhibitors cut out mid-session so Hunters could "learn the difference between inconvenience and injury."
Takumi learned quickly.
Not because he was talented—but because he paid attention.
He learned how to fall without breaking bones. How to breathe through pain instead of fighting it. How to read the half-second delay between a System warning and an actual strike.
Most importantly, he learned how unreliable the System was.
During a combat drill, a simulated Demon lunged from Takumi's left—no warning prompt. He reacted on instinct alone, twisting aside just in time to feel claws rake the air where his ribs had been.
The System chimed late.
[Threat Detected.]
Too late.
Takumi stared at the message, heart hammering.
"So it misses things," he muttered.
Something about that bothered him more than the pain.
---
On the third day, Takumi met his team.
They gathered in a staging room, armor half-fitted, weapons lined along the walls. No one spoke at first.
Then a tall man with a confident grin clapped his hands together.
"Alright, let's get this over with," he said. "Name's Ryo. C-rank transfer. I'll be leading."
Takumi's eyes flicked up.
C-rank.
That was… strong. Too strong for a temporary E-rank unit.
A woman beside him frowned. "Why are you slumming it with us?"
Ryo shrugged. "Promotion stalled. Need clean mission completions."
Takumi didn't like that answer.
The others introduced themselves half-heartedly. A shield specialist. A ranged support. A healer who looked terrified of everything.
Disposable pieces.
Takumi felt it then—the shift in air, the subtle tightening in his chest.
His System flickered.
[Warning: Cognitive Stress Detected.]
He ignored it.
Ryo leaned in, voice dropping. "First mission's simple. Low-tier rift. Clean in, clean out. Easy levels."
Easy.
Takumi remembered the word from the pamphlet.
That night, as he lay on his bunk staring at the ceiling, the System interface opened again.
[Mission Assigned.]
[Rift Classification: Low-Risk.]
[Estimated Threat Level: Feral.]
Relief rippled through the barracks.
Takumi felt none.
Instead, that same pressure returned—the one he'd felt during the aptitude scan. A faint, unsettling awareness, like a shadow just out of view.
He turned his head slowly.
The wall reflected his face in the darkened window.
For a split second—
The reflection didn't move with him.
Takumi's breath caught.
Then the image snapped back to normal.
[Mental Anomaly Detected.]
[Recalibrating…]
The message vanished.
Takumi sat up, heart pounding.
"…I'm just tired," he whispered.
But deep beneath the layers of the world—past Systems, past dimensions, past rules—
Something listened.
And for the first time in a very long while, it smiled.