That night, the rain fell without restraint. Cold and piercing, like countless icy needles slapping the faces of anyone unlucky enough to still be wandering the city streets. Neon lights from rows of electronics shops and coffee houses reflected off the wet asphalt, creating a chaotic shimmer of clashing colors. For most people, a rainy night might feel melancholic—perhaps even romantic. But for Rendra, tonight was nothing more than a reminder of how cold and indifferent the world was to his existence.
He trudged along the nearly deserted sidewalk. The thin jacket he wore had long since surrendered to the seeping rain and bone-biting chill. His breath formed faint white mist that vanished instantly in the wind, as if even his existence wasn't allowed to leave a trace—not even in the air. At the end of the street, a small, stuffy rental house awaited him. No one was there. No warm greetings, no aroma of home-cooked meals. Only stacks of overdue electricity and internet bills scattered beneath the crack of the door.
For nearly thirty years of his life, Rendra felt as though he had moved in a straight, uneventful line. Safe. Flat. Devoid of courage. If life were a book, he was certain he'd be nothing more than a background character never even given a name by the author. He was the living definition of potential left to rot.
Every day, he spent at least nine hours inside a narrow gray cubicle. Working as a data administrator at a mid-tier logistics company was a slow torture that gradually eroded his soul. His job consisted of transferring numbers from one column to another, repeating the same routine thousands of times. It was work that could have easily been handled by a simple AI—if only his boss weren't too stingy to upgrade the company's system.
For five years, Rendra had been a "model employee" in the saddest sense of the phrase: always punctual out of fear of reprimand, always obedient out of fear of conflict, and always silent when his small ideas were stolen by a praise-hungry superior. His life was a deliberate series of surrenders. He allowed others to trample him simply because he was too afraid to stand up for himself.
Even in matters of the heart, he was hopeless.
His thoughts often drifted to Lira, his coworker in the finance department who always wore a bright smile despite her heavy workload. Rendra had long wanted to invite her out for a simple cup of coffee during break time, to share the silly jokes he crafted in his head whenever boredom struck. But every time the opportunity arose, his tongue froze. He always chose to retreat before taking a single step forward. He was afraid of rejection, afraid of ruining the safe zone that—though suffocating—at least felt secure.
"Crazy, huh… If I die tomorrow, my boss would probably need just one minute to delete my name from the employee database," he muttered bitterly at his reflection in the glass of a closed shop.
He stared at his worn-out face. Hollow eyes, dark circles, shoulders slumped like a man carrying the weight of the world. He felt like a benchwarmer who would forever sit on the sidelines, too afraid to step onto the field in case he made a mistake. He was the embodiment of someone who chose defeat before ever attempting to compete.
Lost in thoughts of his own futility, he stepped into the street without looking left or right. His mind was too crowded—with debt, failed dreams, and regret pressing painfully against his chest. And fate was never kind to the hesitant.
SCREEEECH—
CRASH!
The sound of tires skidding against wet asphalt shattered the silence. A box truck sped too fast around the slippery bend. Everything happened in an instant—yet to Rendra, time seemed to slow down cruelly. The blinding headlights were the last thing he saw. There was no dramatic music, no heroic moment like in the movies. Only overwhelming pain as cold metal slammed into his body.
He felt himself thrown into the air, then smashed against the pavement with unimaginable force. Bones shattered with sickening cracks, and warm liquid flooded his face—his own blood. As he lay in the roadside gutter, his vision fading, one final thought lingered.
Is this it? Just like this? I haven't even truly tried to live!
A cold, belated fury ignited in his chest right before total darkness consumed his consciousness.
---
The Awakening of the "Ethereal"
The darkness was not eternal, though the transition felt like being dragged through the eye of a needle.
Rendra jolted awake, his breath coming in short, frantic gasps. The first thing that assaulted his senses wasn't the sterile scent of hospital disinfectant or the beeping of heart monitors. Instead, the air felt thick—unnaturally dense—cold, and laced with a sweet, intoxicating aroma. It was the kind of air that felt wrong to human lungs, as if every breath contained heavy liquid.
"Cough! Cough!"
He hacked violently, clutching his chest as he struggled for oxygen. His vision was blurred, filled with dancing specks of light. When it finally focused, he did not see a white hospital ceiling—but a canopy of colossal trees towering like skyscrapers, their dark purple leaves glowing faintly with blue luminescence.
"Where… is this? Heaven can't possibly look this weird, right?" His voice was hoarse—yet higher and clearer than his original one.
As he tried to push himself up, he noticed the hand bracing against the damp tree roots.
Rendra froze.
That was not his rough, scarred hand. It was slender, long-fingered, with pale skin nearly translucent—veins visible beneath like faintly glowing silver threads.
"Wait… is this a dream? I died, didn't I?"
His trembling fingers touched his face, tracing unfamiliar features sharper and more refined than before. Panic began to creep in, making his heart pound violently. But before he could scream in hysteria, a wave of pain crashed into his head. It wasn't physical pain from impact—it felt like millions of gigabytes of data being forcefully downloaded into his brain.
[ Soul Data Synchronization… ]
[ Entity Identified: Arius. ]
[ Race: Ethereal Humanoid (Low Tier). ]
"Arius? Ethereal?" he murmured, clutching his throbbing head.
The information flowed naturally into his awareness, like memories that had always been there but locked away. He now understood that his race held the potential to rival Gods and Demon Kings—but at this early stage, his physical body was even more fragile than a human's. He also sensed a pulse of energy in the air, something his mind identified as Magicules. The energy was everywhere—overflowing like billions in a bank account—yet he had no idea how to access it. It was like possessing limitless assets but forgetting the PIN.
Before he could steady himself, the ground beneath the roots trembled violently.
GROAARRRR!
Rendra—no, Arius—turned stiffly.
From behind the neon-glowing purple vegetation emerged a wolf the size of a full-grown cow. Its fur was black as shadow, its eyes burning red with pure predatory instinct. Drool dripped from its fangs, scorching the leaves beneath. It did not see Arius as a threat—only as an easy appetizer.
"You've got to be kidding… Am I supposed to die twice in one day?" he whispered, trembling.
His old instincts screamed at him to run, but his fragile new body seemed paralyzed by overwhelming fear. As the monster leaped, jaws wide and breath reeking of sulfur, flashes of his life on Earth spun through his mind like a broken tape.
The image of himself always surrendering. Always silent when insulted. Dying pathetically as a "number to be deleted" on a rainy sidewalk.
A surge of pure rage exploded within him, burning away his fear for the first time across two lifetimes.
No. Not again!
I refuse to die a loser a second time!
"I REFUSE TO DIE A FAILURE AGAIN!" he roared, his voice shaking the air.
Just as the predator's fangs were about to tear into his throat, a flat, mechanical voice devoid of emotion cut through the forest:
[Ding!]
[ Emergency Condition Detected: Survival Will Exceeds Threshold. ]
[ Activating Player System. Integration Successful. ]
WHOOSH!
A transparent energy shield erupted from Arius's body, blasting the wolf backward. It flew dozens of meters before crashing into a massive tree.
Before Arius's eyes, a blue status window materialized midair. He gaped. It looked exactly like the game interfaces or web novels he used to read to escape his miserable job.
But his awe lasted only a second before a blood-red notification appeared with a shrill warning tone:
[ WARNING: SUBJECT INCOMPETENCE! ]
[ Daily Quest – Penalty Activated ]
[ Description: Failed to protect oneself independently within the first 24 hours of new life. ]
[ Penalty: Forced Transfer to 'Evolution Grounds' Level D. ]
"Wait, what?! At least give me time to breathe!" Arius protested in panic.
Before he could finish speaking, blinding blue light enveloped his body. An indescribable sensation struck him, as though his molecules were being dragged through space and time. When the light faded and his vision cleared, the purple forest had vanished.
Arius now stood in the middle of a damp stone labyrinth corridor, dark and suffocating, thick with the stench of death. In the distance, the growls of creatures far more terrifying than the wolf echoed through the shadows.
Arius—the new Player with the weakest race and an injured body—had just been thrown into the deadliest gladiator arena for beginners.
His journey to rise from absolute zero had only just begun.