The morning sun crawled slowly across Silas's cracked ceiling, slipping between the gaps in the curtains and stabbing light straight into his eyes.

He winced, groaning as he forced himself to shift. His muscles screamed from yesterday's insane training—Michael's drills, Chiron's lessons—and every bone in his back felt like it had been rearranged by a drunk chiropractor.

He exhaled, long and slow, and reached for his phone on the mattress beside him.

Before he could even grab it—

DING!

A bright blue notification exploded right in front of his half-dead eyes.

Silas blinked twice.

Then read it.

Then his brain froze.

[Bank Alert: -$12,000]

[Remaining Balance: $74]

He stared.

Then stared harder.

"…what."

The notification expanded automatically.

[Transaction Log:]

– Archangel Michael's Training Session: -$6,000

– Chiron's Training Session: -$6,000

Silas's eyes widened slowly as the information sank in.

Then—

Everything inside him snapped.

"NO— NO— FUCK NOOOO—!!!"

His voice exploded through the apartment so loudly his neighbor probably woke up too.

He jumped off the bed, nearly slipped on the floor, grabbed his hair with both hands, and started pacing like a madman who just watched his own wallet get murdered.

"Twelve thousand!? TWELVE— FUCKING— THOUSAND!? FOR WHAT!?"

He kicked his blanket away.

"MICHAEL TAUGHT ME HOW TO SWING A SWORD AND CHIRON MADE ME CLOSE MY EYES. WHAT PART OF THAT WAS WORTH TWELVE THOUSAND!?"

He grabbed a pillow and smashed it into his face, screaming into it with pure financial despair.

"MY SAVINGS! MY RENT MONEY! MY NOODLES MONEY—!!"

The system's calm voice chimed in, absolutely emotionless.

[Host, this is not robbery.]

Silas threw the pillow at the blue screen like it was alive.

"NOT ROBBERY!? MY BANK ACCOUNT IS BLEEDING OUT!"

[Host, you are learning techniques no human is supposed to learn. This is nothing compared to the value you receive.]

Silas opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Then screamed into his hands.

"This system is actually robbing me with confidence."

He dragged his palms down his face, eyes twitching.

"…System. I need money. Fast. Very fast. Before I actually starve to death and you have to drag my corpse to a dungeon."

The system responded instantly.

[Three options are available, Host.]

Silas sighed, bracing himself.

"Okay. Hit me."

[1. Do dungeons, collect drops, and sell them.]

Reasonable.

[2. Rob the Hunter Association.]

Silas froze.

His eyelid twitched.

"…I beg your pardon?"

[3. Sell your organs.]

He stared at the screen in silence.

Then whispered:

"…Are you fucking INSANE—!?"

He pointed aggressively at the options.

"SELL MY ORGANS!? ROB THE ASSOCIATION!? WHAT KIND OF GTA-V BULLSHIT IS THIS!?"

[Only one option is valid.]

Silas rubbed his forehead as if this was giving him migraines.

"Yeah. Dungeons. Obviously."

[Bingo, Host. You are a quick learner.]

Silas's neck veins popped out from rage.

"You only say that NOW because I picked the right one! YOU BLUE BITCH!"

The system went silent.

Not a single beep.

Silas groaned deeply and flopped into a chair.

"…Fine. Dungeon it is. Let's go before I break something."

Just then, a new window appeared in front of him.

[New Quest Generated:]

[Clear a B-Rank Dungeon Alone]

Another sigh escaped his lips—this one long, tired, almost old.

"At this point… I've gotten used to this shit. Dungeon after dungeon after dungeon. Is this seriously all I'm good for now? Just being thrown into deadly holes for exp?"

He leaned back in his chair, eyes half-lidded.

"Isn't my life worth anything else…?"

Silence filled the room.

Then—

A voice echoed through the air.

Deep.

Warm.

Full of authority and confidence and something ancient behind it.

"You don't yet know… how big a role you'll play in the future, kid."

Silas jerked up instantly.

His eyes darted around the room.

The door.

The window.

Under the bed.

Behind the chair.

No one.

Not a single living thing.

His breath grew shallow, almost careful.

"…System," he murmured. "Did you hear a man's voice just now? Deep voice? Sounded… old?"

[No Host. Perhaps it was a hallucination from exhaustion.]

Silas frowned.

"It didn't feel like a hallucination…"

[Host is stressed. Auditory illusions are possible.]

He stared for a few seconds longer, then shook his head.

He grabbed his coat from the hook on the wall and slid it on, pulling the collar up.

"Forget it. I'll think about that later. For now, I need a new weapon. Do I have enough points?"

[Host currently has 12 System Points.]

"Open the shop."

[Opening System Shop – Weapons Section.]

[Showing only weapons Host can afford.]

Three swords appeared as rotating holograms, reflecting faint light on Silas's tired face.

[Voidreaver Saber — 12 points]

Black blade curved smoothly, faint purple streaks along the edges like cracks in reality.

[Ignis Edge Dagger — 10 points]

A short blade glowing faintly red, heat pulsing around it.

[Windslash Crescent — 11 points]

A silver-blue blade shaped for swift cuts, almost weightless.

Silas stared at them for exactly two seconds.

Then pointed at the first one.

"Voidreaver. Most expensive. Probably best."

[Purchase completed.]

A swirl of dark mist formed above his desk before condensing into a sheathed saber.

Silas grabbed it.

The hilt was cold—sharp cold—like touching metal left under the moon.

The balance felt perfect.

The weight felt natural.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Good. At least ONE thing isn't disappointing today."

He clipped the saber to his belt and tightened his coat around himself.

Sector 9 — B-Rank Dungeon Gate

The portal pulsed in the middle of the street like a massive blue heart.

Mana rippled across the ground in circles, making loose gravel vibrate.

Hunters standing nearby whispered quietly.

"That gate again. Three teams failed yesterday…"

"Boss is enraged or something."

"Someone said it's mutated."

Silas walked through the crowd silently, his coat swaying with his steps.

He stepped in front of the swirling blue vortex, staring into its depths.

Cold air brushed against his face.

His reflection stared back—tired eyes, messy hair, broke as hell… but determined.

He tightened his grip on the Voidreaver Saber.

"Alright," he whispered. "Let's hope I don't die broke."

He stepped forward.

The portal rippled like water around his foot.

Then swallowed him whole.

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