Here is the first full chapter as promised everyone! I've been out of practice for so long that it took me a few days to write it.
New Story and New characters!
Hope you guys enjoy!
FYI - I don't own Solo Leveling
Chapter 2: The New World – A Slow Awakening
~Beep Beep Beep Beep~
The high-pitched beeping pierced through the dark room, bouncing off the walls and stabbing through my skull. I groaned, my hand fumbling over the nightstand until I finally found the snooze button. Silence returned, but it did nothing to ease the heavy ache in my head.
Blinking against the harsh red digits on the clock, I glared at the time: 4:30 a.m.
I sighed deeply and rubbed my face, my fingers dragging across the dark bags under my eyes. Barely got any sleep last night thanks to this damn cold, and now I have to wake up again so soon for work. My life's a joke, I thought, sinking back into my pillow for just a few more seconds of quiet.
But I knew there was no point. Five more minutes wouldn't change a thing. I tossed the sheets aside, forcing myself up. Across the room, my roommate slept soundly, unaffected by the noise.
Must be those expensive earbuds, I thought, my lips twisting in the faintest hint of jealousy. Lucky bastard.
Yawning, I shuffled toward the shared bathroom, every step reminding me of how little sleep I'd managed to grab. The bright light above the mirror flickered to life, making me squint as I stared at my reflection.
There I was. The same old, unremarkable face staring back at me: short, messy dark hair, pale skin, and those goddamn bags under my eyes that were practically permanent at this point. I couldn't remember the last time I'd looked in the mirror and liked what I saw.
Nothing special, I thought, dragging my toothbrush from its holder. Just John. A name as common as my face.
As I brushed my teeth, my mind wandered back to the past, the one story that never seemed to change. The orphanage. I grew up there, and from as far back as I could remember, no one could tell me who my parents were—or if they were even alive. The staff gave me the most common name they could think of, and I grew up just like all the other kids in that place: a face in the crowd, another mouth to feed.
The orphanage itself? A third-tier city nightmare barely hanging on by a thread. Most of our clothes came through donations or hand-me-downs that never fit right. I wore shoes too small for my feet for a whole year, but it didn't matter. I was lucky to have them.
The school wasn't any better. The local kids made sure we knew exactly where we stood. They got picked up by their parents in shiny cars. We walked back, heads down, avoiding their stares. Jealousy was the first thing I learned, and it stuck around like a bad habit.
By the time high school ended and we turned eighteen, the orphanage kicked us out. I knew it was coming, but that didn't make it any easier. They gave us just enough to survive. The rest? That was on us.
Spitting out the toothpaste, I rinsed my mouth and stripped off my clothes, stepping into the shower. The icy water hit my skin, making my muscles clench as goosebumps rippled across my arms. I moved fast, scrubbing myself down in a desperate race to get out of the freezing shower before I turned into an ice block.
Six months, I thought, teeth chattering. The house owner had ignored us for the past six months, despite us practically begging him to fix the hot water. Finishing up, I dried off and went back to my room, where my roommate was still fast asleep.
I stared at him for a second, tempted to rip the blanket off him and let him feel the cold I had to deal with. But I shook my head, a mischievous smile creeping up before I let it fade. If he wanted to blow all his money on gadgets and barely make rent at the end of the month, that was his problem, not mine.
I sighed as I pulled on my boots and jacket, bracing myself for the cold morning air. The house was as frigid inside as it was outside. Every time I felt the cold biting at my skin, I cursed the landlord, hoping one of my made-up curses would actually do something painful to him—preferably to his dick and balls.
"That fat bastard had the gall to call us entitled brats when we asked him to install some heating in this house. I hope you choke on dick, Jim, you miserable cunt." I muttered the words under my breath as I ran a comb through my hair, imagining him sputtering at his desk, clutching his throat. It was a nice thought—if only one of my curses would actually work.
I took one last look in the mirror. Same tired face. Same dark bags. I looked older than eighteen, but there was no point in thinking about it. Grabbing my bag, wallet, and keys, I stepped outside.
It was still dark, the air biting and unforgiving. I walked slowly, keeping my head down and an eye out for anyone lurking in the shadows. My neighbourhood was poor, and danger was always just a block away. It took about twenty minutes to reach the bus stop, and by then, my hands were numb. I needed to be on the first bus to make it in time for my shift. It was the weekend, which meant the restaurant would be busy, and the chefs would need all hands on deck for prep.
I was five minutes from the bus stop when I heard a rustle behind me. Probably a bird, I thought, walking past a line of hedges without looking back. But then I heard footsteps, and as I turned around, I felt cold metal press under my chin.
A gun.
Woah, woah, woah! My heart raced, and my breath caught in my throat as I raised my hands, palms out, in surrender. My eyes widened in panic the second I felt the cold press of the gun under my chin. Everything around me blurred—my vision tunnelling on that gun, gleaming under the faint streetlights.
"Don't hurt me, man," I managed to choke out, my voice shaking. "Just—just take what you want."
The thug in front of me grinned, his teeth flashing in the dim light. His eyes stayed cold, unblinking. "Oh, we will," he said casually. "Now, let's see what you've got."
Behind him, two more thugs emerged from the shadows, each carrying baseball bats slung over their shoulders like they were out for a casual game. One of them smacked his bat against his palm, the echoing thud sending shivers down my spine.
"Look at this idiot," he sneered. "Kids shouldn't be out roaming around this early in a neighbourhood like this. You know this place ain't safe, right?"
"Yeah," the other thug said with a chuckle, circling behind me, his bat hovering dangerously close to my side. "Some people are just asking for trouble."
"I-I've got my wallet in my back pocket," I stammered, my voice coming out in short bursts. The gun was still pressed against my chin, cold and unforgiving. "Phone's in my right pocket. My bag... it's just got work clothes in it. Please, just take it all. I'm just trying to get to work."
One of the thugs yanked my bag off my shoulder, already rummaging through it as if he expected to find something valuable. The guy with the gun stepped back slightly, enough to let me breathe, but my pulse was still thundering in my ears.
"You're broke as hell," one of them snorted, flipping through my wallet with a disappointed shake of his head. "What, you don't carry more than this?"
"Work clothes, huh?" the other guy mocked, tossing my bag aside like it was garbage. "Man, you're practically begging to get robbed."
And then it hit me—like a punch to the gut—this was my life. This was all it ever was. Just getting screwed over, being pushed around, with no way to fight back. And what pissed me off the most wasn't even the mugging. It was that I'd been here before, a million times in my head, and in every single one of those scenarios, I wasn't just a victim.
I mean, I'd dreamed about this exact situation ever since I was a kid. Ever since I started reading comics, manga, and manhwa. My whole life, I'd devoured those stories—the ones where the main character was nobody, just like me, but then something would happen. They'd get powers, a secret strength, some kind of system that let them fight back.
In my head, I'd always imagined what it'd be like if I was one of those characters. If I had super strength or powers like Goku, or if I could pull off an epic comeback like in a manhwa. Hell, sometimes I'd pretend I was like Sung Jinwoo, leveling up from the weakest nobody to an unstoppable force.
In my fantasies, I wasn't helpless. I could grab the thug's wrist, twist it, disarm him in a blink. His buddies? They wouldn't even see it coming. I'd be the one walking away, leaving them on the ground, groaning in pain, asking themselves what the hell just happened.
But in reality? I was still here. Frozen. My eyes darted between the gun and the two guys with bats, hoping they didn't decide I wasn't worth the trouble and smash my head in. I was just John, no powers, no strength, no secret system unlocking deep inside me. Just a broke kid with two shitty jobs and nothing worth stealing.
The thugs kept laughing, passing my phone between them like it was some kind of joke.
"Man, look at this weak little shit," one of them said, flipping my wallet before tossing it back to me. "Bet you couldn't fight your way out of a paper bag, huh?"
I didn't respond. What was the point? My hands were still raised, my heart pounding in my chest like it was trying to break free. "Can I go now?" I asked quietly. My voice came out rough, strained. "You've taken everything I have."
The gunman rolled his eyes and snorted. "Yeah, yeah, we're done with you." He took a step back, motioning for the others to follow. "Next time, kid, try carrying more cash."
Just as they were about to leave, I noticed something—a car creeping down the street toward us, its windows tinted so dark I couldn't see inside. My stomach dropped, a sick feeling crawling up my throat. The thugs noticed too. Their conversation stopped abruptly.
The car slowed to a crawl.
One of the thugs swore under his breath. "Shit, we gotta go—"
Before he could finish, the windows rolled down, and the next thing I heard was the sharp crack of gunfire. Pop-pop-pop—the sound echoed off the buildings, a barrage of bullets spraying toward us.
The two guys with the bats cursed and took off, sprinting back into the hedges. One of them nearly tripped, stumbling as he disappeared into the bushes. The other was already halfway gone, yelling something incoherent as they both made their escape.
But the gunman? He didn't run. He fired back a few shots, his eyes wide with panic. Then, before I could even register what was happening, he moved behind me, using me like a human shield.
I froze. My body locked up as the shots kept ringing out. I didn't even have time to think, didn't have time to react. One second I was just standing there, too scared to move—and the next, I felt a hard shove from behind. My feet skidded across the pavement, and suddenly, I was in the middle of the street, directly in the line of fire.
The gunman shoved me forward, and I stumbled right into the open. "Move!" he hissed before bolting after his buddies, sprinting for the bushes. He didn't look back. He didn't care.
I tried to run too. I tried to move, but—
Crack!
The pain hit me like a truck. My chest exploded in fire as something hot and sharp slammed into me. I gasped, choking on air that didn't seem to be there. A bullet. Straight in my chest.
I dropped to my knees, clutching my chest, feeling the warm blood seep through my fingers. The car sped off, tires screeching as it disappeared down the street. But I wasn't even looking at it. I couldn't focus on anything. All I could see was the blood—so much blood, pooling underneath me, dark and thick against the concrete.
I tried to breathe, but every inhale felt like drowning, my lungs burning, my vision starting to blur. I screamed, but the sound came out more like a ragged sob. I couldn't think straight, couldn't hold onto a single coherent thought except one:
I'm going to die.
My mind raced, spiraling between panic and disbelief. This was it. This was the end. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Not like this.
This isn't fair!
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as the realization crashed over me like a wave. All of my dreams, all of my stupid, pointless goals—they were all meaningless now. I was nothing. I'd never be anything. All those fantasies about having powers, about being someone who could fight back? They were just that—fantasies. The kind of daydreams that kids have when they don't know any better.
I was never going to become strong. Never going to have a chance to change my life. My whole existence—everything I'd worked for—meant nothing.
And worst of all? No one was here. No one had ever been there for me. I'd lived alone, and now... I was dying alone.
Why did it have to be like this? I thought, my fingers digging into the pavement as I tried and failed to push myself up. The strength just wasn't there. I could feel it slipping away, draining out of me with every heartbeat, every drop of blood.
I had always been alone. No one ever cared. No one ever came to help me, not even now. I was just another forgotten face in the world. Another nameless body on the sidewalk.
Please... someone... anyone... help me. But there was no one. The streets were empty. The world was silent, except for the faint ringing in my ears.
As the darkness crept in, my tears fell harder. I started this life alone... and now I'm going to die alone.
The world around me began to fade. The pain that had torn through my chest was receding now, replaced by a creeping numbness. My hands, slick with my own blood, felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. Even my breath, ragged and shallow, was barely audible in my own ears. It was like I was slipping away, piece by piece, into the dark.
I knew I was dying.
My vision blurred, the streetlights above me fading in and out, replaced by memories—flashes of my life, dull and muted. Nothing joyful, nothing meaningful. Just... moments. Moments of loneliness. The orphanage. The empty streets. Working shitty jobs, getting by day after day with no one ever giving a damn about me. The endless grind of a life that never went anywhere.
But... was there anything? Was there anything good at all?
I tried to reach for something, anything—some fragment of happiness. A happy memory, a moment of joy. There had to be something, right? Something that made it all worth it. My mind strained, searching through the haze of disappointment and regret, and there it was, flickering like a weak candle in the storm.
I remembered...
Sitting in the library, alone, flipping through the worn-out pages of my favorite manga. For a moment, I was lost in another world, where heroes rose from nothing and became strong. I could almost feel the excitement, the awe I felt when reading those stories. A small, fleeting moment of joy. The kind of happiness I never found anywhere else.
That was it. That's all I had. But... it was enough.
I'm dying, I realized again. But fuck it.
If this was the end, I didn't want to go out crying. I didn't want to die with a look of fear or regret plastered on my face. No. Life had already taken everything from me—my family, my dreams, my future. I wasn't going to give it my dignity.
Even now, at the end, I could feel it—the unfairness of it all. Life had always beaten me down, kicked me around, and now, it was taking the one thing I couldn't get back. But if this was my last moment, I'd face it on my own terms.
So, I forced it. Through the pain, through the fear. I forced my lips to curl, trembling as they were. A small, crooked smile spread across my face.
Fuck you, life, I thought. I'm going out smiling.
As my vision dimmed, my body going heavy, I felt it. Peace, of a sort. My breath slowed, each one harder than the last. The street, the blood, the world—it all started to drift away. But then...
Just as the darkness began to take me, something flickered in front of my eyes. At first, I thought it was just my mind playing tricks, the last, desperate spark of consciousness before death claimed me. But it wasn't that.
A screen appeared. Floating, glowing, translucent. It hovered in front of me, right in my line of sight, like something out of a video game. The same kind of screen I'd seen a million times in the manhwa I'd read, in the RPGs I'd played.
[Initializing Player System...]
[Error... Error...]
The screen glitched, flickering wildly. For a moment, it stabilized, showing more text.
[Congratulations! You have been selected as...]
Then, more errors. The letters scrambled, the text flickering and breaking apart like a corrupted file. I squinted, trying to make sense of it, but my vision was already dimming. The screen blinked and flashed, as if the system itself was broken.
[Rebooting... Please wait...]
[Error: System Unstable...]
[Error: Beta Version Detected...]
The words didn't make sense. Beta version? Was this some kind of... test?
The screen flickered again, almost disappearing entirely before new lines of garbled text took its place. My chest heaved, blood still spilling from my wound, but I could barely feel it now. I couldn't even move. My eyes were half-lidded, watching as the system struggled to function.
[Restarting...]
[Error: Critical Failure Detected...]
I could barely focus anymore. My thoughts were fuzzy, slipping away like the blood pooling beneath me. But even in my final moments, a bitter smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. Of course, even in death, I'd get a broken system.
Figures.
As the light of the screen flickered one last time, my eyes closed. The darkness wrapped itself around me, and with it, the cold, final acceptance of what was coming. My last breath left me as a whisper, a single word slipping through my lips.
"...Help."
And then, everything went black.
The first thing I felt was pain.
A sharp, brutal jolt to the side of my face. My head snapped to the right, and for a moment, all I saw were stars. Pain exploded across my cheek, and before I could even process what was happening, my feet stumbled underneath me, sending me crashing to the cold, hard ground. My face scraped against the rough pavement, and I groaned, tasting blood in my mouth.
I blinked, my vision spinning, my ears ringing. I tried to pull myself together, but my mind was too clouded. My whole body throbbed with the aftershocks of the punch, and as I tried to lift my head, a wave of confusion hit me like a wall.
'What the hell is going on?'
"Still on the ground, huh?" A sneering voice cut through the ringing in my ears. "You really thought you could walk home without us catching up to you, huh, Kyungho?"
My eyes widened as the name hit me like another blow. Kyungho? That wasn't my name. It couldn't be. And yet, the moment I heard it, something in me stirred. Like the name had been mine all along, even if I didn't know it. I blinked again, squinting through the daze.
Three figures loomed over me. Blurry, but I could make out their grins—the mocking sneers on their faces as they looked down at me like I was dirt under their shoes. The one closest to me, the one who'd thrown the punch, was shaking his fist out, the knuckles red.
His lips curled into a smug smile as his gaze locked onto mine. "Aw, look at him," he said, glancing back at the other two, who were snickering. "Still as weak as ever."
I touched my face, my fingers trembling as they brushed against the swelling on my cheek. The pain was real. So real that it was almost blinding. My heart raced in my chest, thudding against my ribs. Fear clawed its way up my throat, and my breathing grew shallow.
But... I had died. I knew I had. I could still feel the cold from the sidewalk, the wet blood pooling under my body. I had died. I was sure of it.
'So why am I here?'
I tried to get up, my body trembling as I pushed against the pavement. My palms were scraped raw, and I winced, a sharp hiss escaping my lips.
"Aw, you gonna cry, Kyungho?" the guy sneered again, his voice dripping with mockery. Before I could steady myself, his foot shot out and slammed into my side. A gasp tore from my throat as the breath was knocked out of me. I collapsed back onto the ground, clutching my ribs as pain radiated through my chest.
My mind was spinning, trying to process everything. The pain in my body, the sound of their laughter echoing in my ears... and the fact that they were calling me Kyungho.
'Why are they calling me that?' I wasn't Kyungho. I wasn't...
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to focus, but memories—fragments of things I didn't recognize—started pushing their way to the surface. Like pieces of a puzzle clicking into place. This body... it wasn't mine. And yet, it felt familiar. Like the memories were mine now.
I forced my eyes open again, my vision clearing just enough to make out their faces. Seong-Ho. That was his name. Seong-Ho Lee—a face I knew. A face I recognized, though I didn't know how. The arrogant grin he wore was just as cruel as it had always been. Behind him, Minho and Taesun stood back, their eyes glinting with amusement, the same way they always had when they were watching me get hurt. The bullies from the orphanage.
My heart sank into my stomach. The realization hit me like another blow. These weren't just random attackers. They were the same assholes who used to torment me.
"You've always been weak," Seong-Ho said, leaning down slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me like I was nothing. His lips curled into a cruel smile. "And tomorrow, when I get my rank assigned, you'll see how much stronger I am than you."
I coughed, gasping for air, my hand still pressed against my ribs. My eyes flicked up to him, trying to hold his gaze, but my body was too weak, too shaky to get up. My mind was still reeling. This wasn't my life. This wasn't supposed to happen.
'But it is your life,' something whispered in the back of my mind. 'This is your life now.'
I squeezed my eyes shut again, but the memories of Kyungho Shin's life flooded my mind. This body's life. The orphanage. The beatings. Seong-Ho, Minho, Taesun—they had always bullied me. Always treated me like trash. My chest tightened as the memories clicked together, my head swimming in the flood of emotions.
"You should've stayed at the orphanage, Kyungho," Minho added, a cruel grin plastered on his face. "It's not safe out here for weaklings like you."
My fingers dug into the pavement beneath me. Weak. The word echoed in my mind, louder than anything else. My vision blurred with tears I refused to let fall, and I clenched my jaw, biting back the rage and fear twisting in my chest.
Another punch slammed into my shoulder, and I hit the ground again, coughing and choking on my own breath. The pain was unbearable, but it was the helplessness that hurt the most.
"I'm Awakened now, Kyungho," Seong-Ho sneered, standing over me, casting a long shadow across my face. "Tomorrow, I'm going to the Hunter Association to get my rank assigned. You? You're just trash. Nothing's changed. You'll always be weak."
My breath hitched in my throat, and I forced myself to look up at him, my vision swimming in and out of focus. My chest was burning, my body trembling, but my mind was fighting to piece everything together. 'Awakened? Rank assigned?' The words felt foreign but familiar at the same time. Like I should know what they meant.
And then it hit me—harder than any punch ever could.
'The screen.'
The screen I'd seen just before dying. The one that flickered and glitched, telling me I had been selected, but cutting out before I could make sense of it. Could this be it? Could this be what had happened to me? I wasn't just alive again. I was... somewhere else. In someone else's body.
"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," Seong-Ho said, leaning down closer to me, his breath hot against my face. He grabbed the front of my shirt, jerking me forward slightly. His eyes were glinting with excitement, like he was savouring every second of this.
"Maybe you should pray I don't kill you before I become a Hunter. Might do the world a favour."
My heart raced, the pounding in my chest so loud I could barely hear anything else. The pieces were all there now, but they were jagged, sharp, and confusing. I was Kyungho Shin now. In a world where Hunters existed, where people got Awakened.
And Seong-Ho—this piece of shit standing over me—had been Awakened too. He was stronger than me. Faster. And tomorrow, he'd be officially ranked.
I bit down hard, feeling the sting of blood in my mouth. I wasn't strong enough to stop them. Not yet. But I wasn't dying here again. Not like this. Not in this life.
'I don't know how I got here,' I thought, tears of frustration burning in the corners of my eyes. 'But I'm not dying again. Not like this.'
I wasn't going to win this. Not here. Not now.
Every instinct in my body screamed at me to fight back, to claw at Seong-Ho's face, to kick and thrash until he let me go. But I wasn't strong enough. Not yet. And right now, figuring out what the hell had just happened to me—how I ended up in the world of Solo Leveling, of all places—was more important than any petty fight with these guys.
I swallowed hard, tasting the blood in my mouth again. But I knew I had no other choice. Surviving was more important than whatever pride I had left. With a shaky breath, I looked up at Seong-Ho, his face smug and dripping with arrogance.
"I admit defeat," I muttered through clenched teeth. "Just... let me go."
Seong-Ho raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. "What's that? Admitting defeat so soon? Didn't think you'd give up so easily, Kyungho."
I forced myself to stay calm. Anger bubbled under the surface, but I couldn't afford to let it spill over. "There are cameras back there," I said, motioning weakly toward the back of the bar where I worked, the same place I'd just walked out of. "The Monitoring Division is going to be all over your ass if you get caught beating up a civilian."
Seong-Ho's grin faltered for a second. His eyes flicked toward the bar, then back to me, a hint of hesitation in his gaze. But he recovered quickly, laughing under his breath as if the thought of being caught barely phased him.
"You're not even worth the trouble," Seong-Ho said, waving me off as though I were nothing more than a nuisance. "Let's go, guys. He's not even fun anymore."
Minho and Taesun snickered, kicking dirt in my direction as they turned to follow Seong-Ho down the alleyway. "Stay weak, Kyungho," Minho called over his shoulder, his laughter ringing out into the night. "It suits you."
I waited until their footsteps faded into the distance before I allowed myself to breathe properly. My ribs ached with every breath, and my body screamed in protest as I pushed myself up off the ground. My hands were scraped raw, my legs trembling as I stood, but I didn't have time to focus on the pain.
I needed to figure out what the hell was going on.
'I died. I was shot. I was supposed to be dead.' And now, I'm in Kyungho Shin's body. In the world of Hunters and Gates. My head spun with the impossibility of it all, but I couldn't stay here in this alley.
I stumbled forward, letting my body move on instinct, guided by unconscious memories. Each step felt like I was walking through a fog, my mind still struggling to process the fact that I wasn't John anymore. I was Kyungho now, whoever that really was.
As I walked, I glanced around, taking in the world that was slowly coming into focus. Bright billboards lined the streets, some flashing images of big-shot Hunters—men and women dressed in expensive suits, holding weapons, their faces plastered on everything from energy drinks to luxury cars.
Hunters, in this world, were celebrities. That much was clear.
A few steps further, I spotted another billboard, this one flashing a warning in bold red letters:
"Attention Citizens: Report all Gates immediately. Do not approach unauthorized areas. Gates are highly dangerous."
The message flickered across the screen, cycling through images of hunters and Gates, the warning constantly flashing as a reminder to the public. I stared up at it, my mind racing with what I already knew about this world.
A bit further ahead, I nearly stopped in my tracks when I saw it.
Baek Yoonho. His familiar face glared down at me from a billboard, holding some new brand of energy drink. The same Baek Yoonho from Solo Leveling. His face was exactly how I remembered it from the manhwa—the S-Rank Hunter with the Beast-like abilities. Except... he was real. Standing there. Looking down at me from that giant screen as if he had always existed.
'Oh my God. What the hell?'
My heart skipped a beat, and I stared, wide-eyed, at the advertisement. I could barely think straight. I was already dealing with the shock of being in this world, but now seeing fictional characters—or at least, who were supposed to be fictional—alive, breathing, and apparently just going about their lives in this world... it felt like my mind was about to explode.
But it wasn't just Baek Yoonho.
Another billboard caught my attention just across the street. Two more faces I recognized: Choi Jong-In and Lim Tae-Gyu. S-Rank Hunters. Major players from the manhwa, except now they were real people, endorsing some product or other, their faces splashed across billboards like they were movie stars.
'What the fuck?!' Baek Yoonho, Choi Jong-In, and Lim Tae-Gyu—these were names I knew. These were faces I'd seen before. In the manhwa. In a story. But now, they were here. In front of me. Real people, living in this world alongside me.
I forced myself to keep walking, though my legs felt heavy, like I was moving through molasses.
This was real. I had known that, intellectually, the second I realized I was alive again, but this? Seeing them? It brought everything into sharp, terrifying clarity. This wasn't some far-off fantasy I was dropped into. I was living in Solo Leveling, with the same people, the same Gates, Monsters and Hunters.
But how? How did this happen? I racked my brain, trying to remember every detail I could about Solo Leveling. There had been no talk of reincarnation. No Player System until Jinwo. None of this made sense. Why me? Why was I here, now, living in this body of a nobody in the middle of it all?
Think, Kyungho, think.
It had been around seven or eight years since the Gates first appeared, since Awakened individuals started emerging to fight the monsters, if the memories of Kyungho were right. It's the time before Jinwoo's rise—three years before the Double Dungeon Incident. Which means...
I was in the pre-Jinwoo world. The world that had already changed, but not enough for me to know what was going to happen. I knew who the strong ones were. I knew who was in power now. Choi Jong-In was running the Hunters Guild. Baek Yoonho was a major player. And Lim Tae-Gyu was one of Korea's deadliest Rangers and also the head of Fiend Guild. But I was nothing in comparison.
I rubbed my temples, feeling the ache of the realization hit me even harder. I knew these characters' backstories, their abilities, and even some of their future moves... but what use was that knowledge to me now? I was nobody. I wasn't Awakened. I had no powers.
I glanced at another ad, blinking hard as the face of Jung Yiran, an A-Rank Hunter, flashed across the screen in a glamorous gown. She was smiling like she had just stepped off the red carpet, selling some new mana-based fashion line.
Hunters were celebrities here.
I felt a tightness in my chest as I thought back to the power structure in this world. Hunters didn't just fight monsters. They dominated the economy, the media, and the political landscape. And me? I was stuck in the lowest tier of society, fighting for scraps. Even Seong-Ho was Awakened.
I reached for my pocket, fumbling to pull out my phone. I needed information—anything that could help me figure out where I was, what year it was, and how this world compared to the Solo Leveling I knew from my past life.
But when I pulled my phone out, the screen stayed black. Switched off. I tapped the power button, hoping it would flicker to life, but instead, a small icon flashed across the screen.
Battery Low
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath. I gripped the phone tightly, frustration creeping up my spine. 'Why does this always happen?'
I forced myself to take a few deep breaths, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions tearing through me. No phone, no immediate answers. I'd have to figure this out on my own—for now, at least.
With my hands trembling, I shoved the phone back into my pocket and kept walking. I let my mind drift, focusing on memories that weren't mine but had become part of me.
'My name is Kyungho Shin.' I repeated it to myself, testing the sound of it, rolling it around in my mind as if it might unlock something. 'Kyungho. Kyungho. It means "strong and brave," doesn't it?'
A bitter smile tugged at my lips. Strong and brave. Two things I definitely wasn't right now.
I stumbled into the entrance of my apartment building, a run-down place with a faint smell of mildew clinging in the air. I let my body move on autopilot, pushing open the door to the small room that was mine.
The memories of this place came to me slowly—the hours I spent working to pay the rent, the empty nights spent in this lonely room. It wasn't much, but it was home. Or at least, Kyungho's home.
I shuffled to the kitchen, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer. My face stung, and my ribs ached, but I pressed the ice pack to my cheek, wincing as the cold seeped into my skin.
I needed to think, to gather my thoughts and dig through Kyungho's memories. I had to figure out everything I knew about this world, how far into the Solo Leveling timeline I was, and what the hell I was supposed to do next.
But first, I needed to stop my head from spinning.
With a long, slow breath, I collapsed onto the small couch, the ice pack still pressed to my face. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to let the pain fade, trying to centre myself before I dove into the memories swirling in my head.
I leaned back on the couch, wincing as the cool ice pack pressed against the swelling on my cheek. My whole body ached, and the adrenaline from the fight had finally worn off, leaving behind a dull, throbbing pain. I stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, my gaze unfocused, while my thoughts swirled like a storm.
This world. Solo Leveling. Fiction turned reality.
Hunters were real. Gates were real. The faces of S-Rank Hunters I'd only seen in the manhwa were now plastered on billboards like they were living, breathing celebrities. And me? I was a nobody. Unawakened. Weak.
I glanced over at the small, battered laptop sitting on the desk in the corner of the room. My hand reached up to rub my temples as the dull headache I'd been ignoring pulsed again. As soon as this swelling went down, I'd use it. I needed to collect as much information as I could. I needed to know everything—about the Hunters, the Gates, and how much of this world matched what I remembered from the manhwa.
I rubbed my fingers against my temples harder, trying to focus. But just as I was mentally mapping out what to do next, something hit me.
I sat bolt upright, slapping my forehead with a groan, the ice pack slipping from my hand and hitting the floor with a soft thud. I'm an idiot.
"Holy shit," I muttered, my voice thick with frustration. "I'm a total idiot."
I couldn't believe it. In all the chaos—the panic, the pain from the beating—I had completely forgotten. The screen I saw before I died. The Player System. I had remembered it the moment I reincarnated, and yet, I hadn't even thought about it since then. How the hell did I not connect the dots sooner?
I let out an exasperated breath, running a hand through my hair, pulling at the strands for a second before letting my hand drop.
"I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner," I muttered, shaking my head. Stupid.
My cheek still throbbed, the skin swollen and hot, but I pushed the pain aside and tried to focus. I straightened my posture on the couch, then leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees. My eyes were glued to the empty space in front of me.
Taking a deep breath, I called out into the air.
"Player System."
For a second, nothing happened. I blinked and frowned, suddenly feeling like a total idiot again. My heartbeat picked up a little. Maybe it wouldn't show up? Maybe... maybe it wasn't real?
But then—a faint flicker of blue light danced in front of my eyes.
I sat up straighter, my breath catching in my throat.
A translucent screen materialized in the air, hovering just a few feet in front of me. I stared at it, my eyes wide, hardly daring to breathe. It was exactly like the Player System I remembered from the manhwa. Floating blue text boxes, like something ripped straight out of a video game.
For a brief, shining moment, joy swelled in my chest. This was it. The Player System. It was real. It had followed me into this world. I wasn't completely helpless. I wasn't doomed to be a weakling forever.
But before I could relish the feeling, the screen glitched.
[System Error... Beta version detected.]
[Do you wish to reboot?]
I blinked. My grin faltered, confusion creeping into my mind. System Error? Beta version? What the hell?
This never happened to Jinwoo. His Player System just... worked. The system had activated when he was on the brink of death, and it had guided him every step of the way to becoming the strongest Hunter in the world. But this? A beta version?
I sat there, staring at the screen, my brows furrowing. Beta version. That meant something was incomplete. It was a test. An unfinished prototype, like a game that was still being developed. But what the hell was a beta version doing here?
I leaned back against the couch, rubbing my chin, my mind racing. 'Did the Architect—the one who designed the system—screw up the initial design?' Or was this... something intentional?
The system's text flickered again, as if urging me to decide.
[Do you wish to reboot?]
Reboot? The word sent a shiver down my spine. What the hell did that mean?
I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly nervous, a cold sweat starting to form at my temples. Was it asking to restart the system... or was it going to restart me? I swallowed hard, the back of my throat dry. The word reboot carried way too many implications.
I leaned forward again, my elbows resting on my knees, staring at the flickering screen. If I said yes, would it wipe me out? Reset me, like I was just another program? Would I be forced to die again, or start all over?
A wave of uncertainty washed over me, and I chewed my bottom lip, absently drumming my fingers against my knee. This was a dangerous gamble. I didn't know what would happen.
But then again... I'd already died once.
I ran a hand down my face, sighing heavily as my fingers brushed against the sore spot on my cheek. I had already been through hell—bleeding out on a cold sidewalk, feeling my life slip away... and then waking up in this new world, only to get beaten half to death.
I stared at the glowing screen again. What was I supposed to do? I wasn't strong enough to survive here on my own, not without help. The Player System could be my only shot at making it.
"What's the worst that could happen?" I muttered, my voice carrying a hint of bitter humor. I've already died once. Almost died again not long after. I was living on borrowed time, anyway.
If this was my only shot, I had to take it.
I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. My hands clenched into fists as I mentally prepared myself for whatever was about to happen.
"Fine," I muttered. "Yes. Reboot."
The moment the word "Yes" left my lips, the screen flickered. The text blinked away, replaced by a rotating circle symbol. The familiar icon, spinning lazily in the center of the translucent screen, indicated the system was rebooting.
[Rebooting Player System… Please wait.]
I let out a shaky breath, sinking back into the couch, but before I could relax, an unsettling sensation crept over me.
A wave of dizziness hit me.. My vision blurred, the edges of my sight turning fuzzy as if the room was spinning out of control. My body felt like it was slipping away like I was being pulled underwater.
No.
I tried to move, to reach out for something—anything—to anchor myself, but my limbs were suddenly heavy, unresponsive. Panic surged through my veins, and I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
I'm going to die.
I wanted to shout for the system to stop, to cancel the reboot, but my voice was locked somewhere deep in my chest. The world around me grew dimmer and dimmer until the room itself started fading from view.
No!
But it was too late.
I slipped into unconsciousness, the world disappearing into a dark, suffocating silence.
A shadow stirred in the room.
At the far end of the dimly lit apartment, a monstrous silhouette shimmered into existence, stepping out of the air like a ghostly apparition. Massive and imposing, the figure took the form of a stone statue, shaped like a hooded angel, its six massive wings spreading outward, filling the small space with an oppressive, unnatural presence.
This was Kandiaru, the Architect. His body was constructed of dark, weathered stone, the surface cracked and chipped as though he had endured millennia of decay. His glowing red eyes, nestled deep within the stone sockets, burned with malevolent intensity, and the black sclera around them only amplified their ominous glow. In the center of his forehead was a thin, oblong-shaped purple gemstone, gleaming faintly as it pulsed with a cold, sinister light.
The six wings on his back weren't merely wings—they were extensions of his body that could shift and transform. Two of them reshaped into additional arms, each one massive, with long, claw-like fingers that scraped the ground as he moved forward, giving him a total of eight arms.
Kandiaru's towering form dominated the room, his stone limbs moving with slow, deliberate grace, each step filling the air with a low, grinding sound, like ancient rock scraping against itself. His presence was suffocating, like a force of nature pressing down on everything around him.
He paused, his hooded head tilting slightly, his gaze falling on the blue screen flickering above Kyungho. His glowing red eyes narrowed in confusion, the light from his gemstone dimming as if in response.
But then his gaze dropped to Kyungho's unconscious form.
The confusion vanished, replaced by a sudden flash of alarm. Kandiaru's eyes widened, the red glow within them intensifying with a mix of panic and fury. The thin cracks running through his stone skin deepened, glowing faintly with an internal fire.
"No…" The word rumbled out of him like the grinding of stone against stone, laced with desperation.
He lunged forward, all eight of his arms extending, reaching out toward Kyungho and the screen hovering over him. The air trembled with the force of his movement, his stone fingers outstretched to tear the screen apart before—
Flicker.
Kandiaru's silhouette wavered, his form glitching as though reality itself couldn't hold him in place. Before his claws could reach Kyungho, his entire body vanished—disappearing in mid-air like a broken image, leaving the room silent once more.
A moment of quiet hung in the air.
Then, as if emerging from the very darkness itself, another figure appeared—this one even more imposing, radiating an overwhelming aura of authority and malice. Towering over everything in the room, his presence cast long, dark shadows across the floor.
This was the Absolute Being.
He was a giant of a man, standing at least twice as tall as any normal human. His long, silver hair cascaded down his back, shimmering faintly in the dim light, framing his face like a halo of moonlight. His skin was an unnaturally pale white, almost translucent, giving him the appearance of a ghostly figure carved from marble. His eyes—blank yellow orbs—were devoid of pupils, empty and endless like a void.
The Absolute Being wore silver robes, draped loosely over his massive frame, the fabric shimmering with an ethereal glow. Beneath the robes, pieces of light brown armour were visible, covering parts of his chest and arms. The armour looked ancient and worn, its edges chipped and cracked like it had seen the weight of eons. On his head rested a tall, light brown hat, its surface intricately detailed with strange runes and symbols, hinting at his once-godlike status.
His feet were bare, as if the earth itself had been too unworthy to hold his full might.
The Absolute Being's expression was one of twisted amusement, his thin lips curling into a cruel smile as his blank yellow eyes landed on Kyungho's still body.
The blue screen still flickered above Kyungho, showing the words Rebooting Player System… Please wait.
The Absolute Being's gaze shifted toward the screen for a brief moment, as though contemplating it. But then, his eyes returned to Kyungho, and the cruel smile on his face widened. He extended his hand—pale, long fingers tipped with sharp nails—toward Kyungho, as though about to claim him.
But just as his hand hovered inches above Kyungho's chest, a brilliant flash of light exploded from Kyungho's body.
The Absolute Being jerked back, his hand snapping away as if he'd been burned. A loud, vicious hiss escaped him, his expression twisting from amusement to shock and rage. His hand smoked where the light had touched him, the skin scorched and charred.
His eyes, once empty and emotionless, now blazed with fury.
"No… impossible!" His voice, low and filled with venom, vibrated through the air like a death knell.
Kyungho's body, still unconscious, was now bathed in a rainbow-colored glow—a shimmering, translucent aura that enveloped him entirely. The glow pulsed rhythmically, forming a protective barrier that shielded him from the Absolute Being's touch.
The Absolute Being stepped back, his chest heaving with fury. He reached forward again, but the moment his hand touched the edge of the rainbow light, it burned him once more, forcing him to retreat. His silhouette flickered, his towering form beginning to disintegrate, the edges of his body unraveling into wisps of light.
With one final, enraged scream, his entire form disintegrated, vanishing into the air in a flurry of sparks and flickers of light.
The room fell into a deep silence once more, the only sound being the soft hum of the rebooting system. The rainbow-colored glow surrounding Kyungho slowly dimmed, fading into nothingness as if it had never been there.
A few moments later, Kyungho stirred on the couch, his body shifting slightly as a groan escaped him. His eyes fluttered open, blinking in confusion.
He lifted his head, disoriented, still half-dazed from whatever had just happened.
"W-what…?" His voice was hoarse as he tried to process the lingering dizziness and the faint flicker of light from the Player System screen still hovering above him.
Kyungho sat up slowly, blinking again as he looked around the room, but there was no sign of the strange visitors. His heart raced in his chest, though he wasn't sure why. Something had happened—something strange—but his mind was still too foggy to fully comprehend it.
He glanced at the blue screen, its faint glow the only light in the dim room.
The words Rebooting Player System… Please wait blinked steadily in front of him, like nothing had changed at all.
The glowing message flickered in front of me, stuck in the same loop:
[Rebooting Player System… Please wait.]
I kept staring at it, but nothing new popped up. What did "reboot" even mean for a system like this? The concept felt bizarre—a game-like system in the real world, now rebooting like it was some faulty piece of tech.
The questions kept running through my head, but the answers… nothing. Only silence.
I let out a frustrated breath and began to pace around the room, my body tense with nervous energy. I glanced at the clock. I hadn't been out for long. A minute? Two at most?
Why did I pass out?
I could feel my heart beating faster, the unease bubbling under the surface. What if something's wrong with the system? What if it's broken? A Player System might be my only shot at surviving here, and the idea of it malfunctioning this early was terrifying.
I needed to clear my head. Focus.
The laptop on the table caught my eye. Right. I need to know exactly where I am in the timeline. If this really was the Solo Leveling world, understanding the timeline was everything. The only thing keeping me from spiralling was knowing I had some time before things went haywire.
I walked over to the desk, flipping open the laptop, and pressing the power button as I let out a slow, steadying breath. One step at a time.
The familiar sound of the laptop starting up grounded me, but just as I was about to sit down on the couch, I froze.
There was no pain. Not in my ribs. Not in my cheek. No soreness at all.
I blinked and slowly raised a hand to my face, touching my cheek where Seong-Ho's punch had landed. Nothing. The bruise I'd been expecting—the pain I had felt only minutes ago—it was just… gone.
My hand instinctively moved to my ribs, where the sharp ache had been gnawing at me earlier. I pressed down gingerly, expecting the pain to shoot back through me. But again—nothing. No bruises, no tightness. No pain at all.
It didn't take long for the realization to sink in.
The system healed me. That was the only explanation. The system had been rebooting, and somehow, in the process, my injuries had been wiped away.
I glanced back at the still-flickering message in the air, feeling a strange sense of both relief and uncertainty. What exactly is this Player System? I dropped onto the couch, letting out a sigh. Okay… at least it's helping me in some way. But that brought its own set of questions. Why a reboot? What was the system "fixing"? And what would happen when it finished?
I needed answers. I couldn't just sit here and wait for it to complete, especially if this was a world I barely understood.
With the laptop fully booted, I started browsing the internet, diving into articles, and searching for any information that could confirm the timeline. Kyungho's memories helped piece things together, but there was nothing like solid facts from the world itself.
A few clicks in, I stumbled upon what I had been looking for.
"Seven to eight years since the first Gate opened," I said out loud, my mind racing. That confirmed it. If the timeline stayed true to the manhwa, I had about three years before Jinwoo's Double Dungeon incident—before his rise to the Shadow Monarch. Three years sounded like a lot of time, but in a world this dangerous, with so many unknowns, it suddenly felt like a clock ticking down faster than I could process.
I clicked around, looking for any mention of Hunters or significant figures, my mind tracing the events I knew from the manhwa. Jinwoo's still a low-ranked Hunter at this point, I told myself. That meant there was no Shadow Monarch yet. No massive power struggle between the Monarchs and Rulers. At least not yet.
But then… there was someone else I needed to know about.
I typed in her name: Cha Hae-In.
To my surprise, what came up wasn't the S-Rank Hunter I'd expected. No mention of her powers. No mention of her being a Hunter at all.
Instead, she was listed as an athlete—a rising star in track and field who had been forced to quit after a severe injury. A broken ankle, apparently. Huh. So this was her life before awakening.
It made sense now. Her incredible reflexes and combat skills in the manhwa must have had roots in her past athleticism. But still, no Hunter yet. Three years, I reminded myself. She'll awaken soon if the timeline stays true.
I leaned back, rubbing my forehead. So far, everything was more or less falling into place as expected. But still, there was a nagging feeling in my gut—something was off.
I kept scrolling through the pages, more and more details filling in as I searched.
But the more I read, the more I realized how much the manhwa had barely scratched the surface. The real world of Solo Leveling wasn't just about monsters and Gates; it was so much more than that.
This world was an economic powerhouse, built on the back of mana, Awakened Hunters, and the resources they brought back from dungeons. But it wasn't just the Hunters at the top—even the non-combat Awakened played a huge role in shaping this world.
It didn't take long before I started seeing advertisements targeting Awakened people. Armor shops, potion makers, even artifact creators. Mana-infused weapons, custom gear tailored to specific Hunters, and potions—potions that, in the manhwa, had only been something Jinwoo accessed through his Player Shop.
Here? They were everywhere.
"Top-quality potions, approved by the Hunter Association!"
I read on, my brow furrowing as the details sunk in. The Hunter Association regulated the sale and distribution of potions, much like the way pharmaceuticals were handled in the real world. That meant potions were a thing here, publicly available, but strictly controlled.
It made sense, really. Potions, if misused, could cause all kinds of issues. Counterfeits, adulterated concoctions—there had to be a system in place to ensure safety and quality, especially when people were consuming mana-based products. And considering the importance of Hunters in this world, the last thing anyone needed was faulty healing potions or mana restoratives in the middle of a raid.
I kept reading, piecing it together. The Hunter Association played a larger role than I had initially thought. They weren't just overseeing Gates and Hunter activities—they were regulating the entire economic infrastructure around mana and its use.
Weapons, armor, potions, artifacts… it was all controlled.
Hunters weren't just powerful—they were clients. The entire system revolved around them. The Awakened were a new class of people who had their own set of rules, privileges, and challenges. Even the non-combat Awakened, those who couldn't—or wouldn't—fight in Gates, still found lucrative work in industries that supported the Hunter world. Potion makers, armor crafters, mana researchers—they were all part of this new, thriving economy.
I leaned back into the couch, exhaling slowly. This was bigger than I imagined. So much more complex than the battles and dungeons I had read about. This world had evolved around the existence of the Gates, and Hunters weren't just fighting monsters—they were economic players, part of a global system driven by mana.
And now I was part of that world.
Three years until Jinwoo's awakening.
Three years to figure out how to survive, how to grow stronger. But now, I understood more clearly than ever that this wasn't just about fighting—it was about understanding the whole world I was now living in.
I glanced at the screen again, still waiting for the reboot.
[Rebooting Player System… Please wait.]
But now, at least, I knew one thing for certain: This system, whatever it was, was my lifeline in this world. And when it finished rebooting, I would be ready.
As I scrolled through more articles, diving deeper into this world's structure, a soft ping caught my attention. I glanced up at the blue screen floating in the air.
[Rebooting Player System… 90% complete.]
A wave of relief washed over me. Finally. The system was almost done rebooting. For a while, I'd been worried it might be permanently glitched—stranded in some endless loop—but now it looked like I was just a few minutes away from seeing what it could do.
I took a deep breath, letting the tension ease from my shoulders. If the system could heal me without even being fully operational, who knew what kind of powers I'd unlock once it finished?
Just a little more.
I turned back to my laptop, deciding to keep myself busy while the system worked. I still had a lot to learn about this world, especially since the manhwa didn't cover everything. If I wanted to survive here, I needed to understand everything—not just the big battles or the Hunters, but the entire system that this world operated on.
As I skimmed through an article on Hunter classes, I felt a small flicker of recognition. Fighters, Mages, Assassins, Tankers, Rangers, Healers—they were all here, just like in Solo Leveling. Combat Hunters on the front lines, non-combat Hunters supporting them behind the scenes. Nothing new. The same categories as always.
"Fighters and Tankers take the hits. Mages and Rangers deal damage from a distance. Assassins sneak in for the kill, while Healers keep everyone alive." I said to myself as I read. Simple enough.
It was all familiar. The standard roles everyone played in raids and dungeons. But high-ranking Healers, like Min Byung-Gyu, were essentially combatants at S-Rank, able to hold their own despite their support role.
I felt a twinge of comfort in the familiarity. This was the Solo Leveling world I knew. But as I continued reading, something new caught my eye—a section I hadn't seen before.
"Special Rank Hunters: The Rise of Multiclass Awakened."
I blinked at the headline, feeling my curiosity spike. Multiclass? Special Rank? This was definitely not in the manhwa.
As I dove into the article, the words jumped off the screen.
"Special Rank Hunters are a rare breed of Awakened, capable of wielding the powers of two different classes. These hunters have the unique ability to combine skill sets from distinct combat types, making them far more versatile and powerful in battle."
I sat up straighter, my eyes scanning the details. Multiclass Hunters? I hadn't even considered that possibility. I kept reading, the implications of this revelation sinking in.
Most Hunters awakened with one class, like Fighter or Mage, and stayed within those boundaries. But Special Rank Hunters? They could combine two classes, switching between them or even blending their abilities into hybrid skills.
"Special E-Ranks" might combine weaker abilities like a Mage's fireball with an Assassin's stealth, giving them a unique edge in strategy despite their low mana output.
"Special C-Ranks" could merge roles completely—imagine a Mage-Tanker casting shields and absorbing hits at the same time. The flexibility alone could make them invaluable to raid teams.
I could feel my heart pounding faster as I kept reading.
"Special B-Ranks" could dual-class on the battlefield, shifting between roles like a Summoner-Assassin, sending creatures into the fray while sneaking in for the kill. At "Special A-Rank", these Hunters were terrifying—combining two high-level class abilities to dominate fights. A Fighter-Healer or Mage-Ranger could practically do it all.
I sat back, trying to wrap my head around it. Multiclass Hunters, capable of combining two class types. This wasn't just versatility—it was game-breaking. By the time they hit A-Rank, they weren't just strong—they were juggernauts. The idea of switching between long-range destruction and close-quarters combat on the fly? That could turn the tide of a raid in an instant.
And then came the Special S-Ranks.
"Special S-Ranks are legends. Combining two extremely powerful classes, they can become forces of nature on the battlefield—global assets. A Mage-Tanker could control the battlefield with spells while shrugging off attacks. A Fighter-Summoner could rip through enemies with their own strength, backed up by summoned creatures."
My mind raced. Multiclass S-Ranks. Stronger than regular S-Ranks, maybe even capable of rivaling multiple Hunters at once. The sheer power of it was hard to grasp. In this world, an S-Rank Hunter was already a celebrity, a national asset. But a Special S-Rank? They'd be unstoppable.
The rarity of it all sank in. Special Rank Hunters were incredibly rare—even rarer than regular S-Ranks in most cases. These weren't just Hunters who got lucky in their awakening; they had to have something else—something in their mana, their bloodline, or their exposure to dungeon magic that unlocked this potential.
I exhaled slowly, processing the weight of the information. Two classes... at the same time.
If I could do that… My thoughts trailed off as the possibilities filled my mind. Having access to two different classes, switching between them, or even combining their abilities? It wasn't just useful—it was game-changing. I remembered how Jinwoo had started as the weakest E-Rank, rising through the ranks by mastering his Shadow Monarch powers. But what if I could combine that kind of power with something else?
A dual-class system wasn't just about more options—it was about becoming something unstoppable. I bit my lip, trying to rein in my excitement. The Player System reboot was almost done, but I couldn't help but wonder—could it give me something like that? Could I unlock the potential to combine classes, just like these Special Rank Hunters?
I glanced at the system screen again.
[Rebooting Player System… 95% complete.]
Almost there. And if the Player System was really different, who knew what kind of power it would unlock?
Another ping echoed through the room, and I turned toward the blue screen.
[Reboot complete.]
A second screen flashed up immediately after:
[Welcome, Player.]
Relief flooded through me, and I jumped up from the couch, nearly tearing up in sheer excitement. "Finally!" I yelled, grinning like an idiot. After all the waiting, all the uncertainty, the system was finally working. I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and joy—I had my system.
But the real test had just begun. Was this system anything like Jinwoo's? I needed to know what kind of advantages I had in this world. It was time to see what cards I'd been dealt.
I took a deep breath and, with a mix of anticipation and nerves, spoke my first command. "Stats."
[Player: Kyungho Shin]
Level: 1
Strength: 1
Agility: 1
Stamina: 1
Intelligence: 1
Perception: 1
Vitality: 1
MPOT (Monarch Potential): 0
Health: 100/100
Mana: 10
Fatigue: 0
I stared at the screen, blinking in disbelief. Everything's at 1?
"Wait, what? Jinwoo started at 10 in all his stats," I whined while exasperatedly raising my hands, feeling a surge of annoyance. How is that fair? But after a moment of sulking, I realized the difference—Jinwoo had at least worked as an E-Rank Hunter before he got his system. I was just some guy who'd been dropped into this world without any prior combat experience. No wonder I was starting from scratch.
"Alright, fine," I sighed, letting go of the unfairness. I had to start somewhere. At least I had a system.
I went through the stats, each one clicking into place. Strength, physical power. Agility, speed and reflexes. Stamina, endurance. Intelligence, which likely governed my mana pool. Perception, for awareness and precision. Vitality, for health and resilience. All the basics were there, and the numbers made sense—even if they were pathetically low.
But then my eyes landed on something that didn't make sense.
MPOT (Monarch Potential): 0
"What the hell is that?" I stared at the MPOT stat, feeling a strange mix of excitement and confusion. Monarch Potential? That was definitely not something Jinwoo had in his system.
I tapped on the stat, and a detailed description popped up.
Monarch Potential (MPOT): Governs your ability to wield Monarch powers. The higher your MPOT, the more Monarch abilities you can safely use without suffering side effects or draining your core stats. This stat increases through Monarch-related quests and events. You can access powers from multiple Monarchs, allowing for diverse abilities.
I froze. Powers from multiple Monarchs?
My heart started racing again as I reread the description. Jinwoo had been confined to the powers of the Shadow Monarch—an insanely powerful skill set, no doubt—but this... This was on a different level. If what the system was telling me was true, I wasn't limited to just one Monarch's powers. I could potentially access the abilities of several Monarchs.
"Holy shit." My mind raced with the possibilities.
The Shadow Monarch's abilities alone were terrifying—summoning legions of shadows, controlling armies, manipulating the battlefield with darkness. But if I could tap into the powers of other Monarchs, like the Frost Monarch, the Beast Monarch, Querehsha, the Monarch of Plagues or even the Dragon King Antares...
I'd be unstoppable.
"So, I could potentially access all of that...?" I whispered, the weight of it hitting me. "I could use powers from different Monarchs… That's insane." the sheer scope of what this stat meant hitting me all at once.
This wasn't just about controlling shadows like Jinwoo. This was all the Monarchs. Fire, ice, plague, destruction— I could potentially unlock any of their abilities, depending on how much I increased my MPOT stat.
The sheer versatility of it made my head spin. If I could tap into multiple Monarch powers, that would give me abilities that no one else—not even Jinwoo—had access to.
My excitement soared. The potential of this stat was unreal. But there was a catch—of course, there was always a catch.
The system wasn't going to just hand me these powers on a silver platter. According to the description, MPOT didn't increase automatically like the other stats. No, I had to earn it by completing Monarch-related quests and unlocking fragments of their powers.
I'd have to fight for every bit of Monarch power I wanted. But the payoff... If I could get my hands on the abilities of multiple Monarchs, it would be worth the struggle. But I couldn't get ahead of myself. MPOT would only grow through Monarch-related quests. I wouldn't be able to spam Monarch abilities right away—it would be a slow grind, unlocking one piece at a time.
Still, this was a huge opportunity. Monarch powers from different domains. If I could master it, I could become an entirely new kind of Player.
"This stat… this is insane," I muttered to myself, feeling a grin spread across my face. "This changes everything."
Sure, it wasn't going to be easy. The stat started at zero, and I'd have to unlock it piece by piece, but the end goal... the potential was off the charts.
I couldn't help but laugh. The possibilities ahead were staggering, and I couldn't wait to dive in.
"Alright," I said aloud, clenching my fists. "Let's do this,"
That's it for now folks! I have already started writing the second chapter, so let me know what you think so far and don't forget to leave a review if you like my story!
Ja Ne
Anbustar16
