Ring! Ring!
Hearing the shrill alarm rapidly erupting from his smartphone besides him, Sonny scowled, shifted a bit and sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. For a fleeting moment, he wondered why he had set an alarm on a Saturday.
Then his mind corrected itself; it was a Monday, not Saturday.
He grimaced.
'Oh, that's right. Time to get ready… school first, then work later.'
As an orphan with no family to rely on, Sonny had to cover everything himself including his accommodation school fees, rent, utilities, and, most importantly, food. In his situation, there was no choice but to take on a part-time job. But unlike the Awakened, who ventured into dimensional gateways to hunt Hell Beasts for fortune and fame, the earnings of an ordinary worker were meager in comparison, let alone someone scraping by with part-time shifts.
So, on any given workday, his mood soured the moment he woke, reminded once again that he sat at the bottom of the barrel.
'What an awful way to start the morning. But hey, who am I kidding? It's not like the universe is about to throw me a bone.'
Sonny liked to think of himself as the universe's favorite punching bag, but even that felt a little arrogant.
Who was he to believe the universe would bother singling him out?
There were plenty of people worse off, such as the women who had experienced the horrors of the back alleys at night, or poor souls getting stretched out by some guy with a quite long flagpole in the confines of a prison cell.
In truth, his predicament wasn't as dire as it appeared on the surface. He was just like anyone else — ordinary in his suffering. After all, he wasn't the first to lose his parents, and he certainly wouldn't be the last.
But he hated the thought of being just another face in the crowd. The idea gnawed at him, more than the loss itself.
Maybe, he thought, there was something out there meant for him alone. Something to set him apart.
Of course, that was nothing more than weakness and desperate delusion. Such a thing didn't exist.
He wasn't 'special.'
Letting out a sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, joints popping from stiffness. The cold floor against his bare feet jolted him a little more awake.
Sonny shuffled over to the tiny bathroom in his equally tiny studio apartment and splashed water on his face, watching the tired-eyed reflection stare back at him.
And the reflected image displayed there was a midnight-blue haired, lean 21 years old young man, above the average height. Disregarding his bright green eyes that possessed a soft eyes and slightly handsome face, there was something truly special about his appearance that screamed 'uniqueness.' But he had already accepted that truth.
Though he was a bit bothered that he hadn't managed to land a girlfriend yet.
He sighed.
After a quick shower and changing into his worn school uniform, he glanced at the clock — 6:47 AM. Just enough time to scarf down whatever scraps were left in his fridge. He opened it and frowned. Half a carton of milk, a single egg, and two slices of bread that were starting to harden at the edges.
Perhaps this was the so-called 'breakfast of champions.'
He fried the egg while toasting the bread directly over the flame; a little trick he'd picked up to avoid buying a new toaster when the old one broke. As he ate, his eyes drifted to the news playing softly on his cracked phone screen propped up against a cup.
[—And in today's Awakened news, the Attack Squad had just conquered the 71st floor of the Labyrinth. It's a massive breakthrough for humanity considering the massive structure is theorized to have 100 floors! The Awakened guilds are already competing for rights to the floor's resources—]
Sonny clicked his tongue and shut it off. It was annoying.
He also wanted to hunt some Hell Beasts too, but due to his lack of talent, he was forced to watch the action behind the scenes.
They got fame, money, power.
He got stale bread and unpaid bills.
The gap between him and them was both incomprehensible and utterly impossible to reach. At the very least, he wasn't incompetent.
By 7:15, he grabbed his worn-out backpack and stepped outside. The morning air was sharp against his skin, but at least it chased away the last remnants of sleep. As he locked the door, he caught a glimpse of his neighbor, old Mrs. Kwon, struggling with a heavy bag of groceries.
Sonny jogged over without thinking. "Let me help you with that."
She smiled, revealing a row of missing teeth. "Such a good boy, Cain. You're definitely not like those ruffians at the corner store!"
He forced a warm smile. "Ah, thank you for the compliment."
He carried her bag to her door, exchanged a few polite words, and then hurried off toward the station, not wanting to miss the 7:30 train.
The station was already bustling when Sonny arrived, a chaotic sea of uniforms and suits all cramming together like sardines. He squeezed himself onto the packed train just as the doors slid shut with a metallic hiss. The smell of cheap cologne and sweat hung heavy in the air.
Sonny grabbed the overhead strap with one hand, his other clutching the worn strap of his backpack. As the train jolted forward, he let his body sway with the motion, mind already drifting elsewhere.
He wondered if today would be as uneventful as the others; school, part-time shift, sleep, repeat. Or maybe Mr. Han, his manager at the diner, would chew him out again for being a minute late. That was always a possibility.
Lost in irrelevant thoughts, he snapped out of his reverie as the train pulled into the designated stop. The entire ride had taken about thirty minutes.
A few steps later, Sonny arrived at the station exit, the crowd surging around him like a current. He adjusted his backpack, took a deep breath, and pushed forward into the morning rush.
The streets beyond were already alive with the usual chaos; vendors shouting their specials, delivery bikes weaving through narrow gaps, and students loitering near convenience stores, trying to stretch out the minutes before school started. Cain barely spared them a glance. He turned left at the corner, heading down a familiar side street that cut through a row of shabby apartment blocks and led straight to his campus.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, half-expecting a message from Mr. Han telling him to cover someone's shift later. Instead or perhaps much to his dismay, it was a notification from his bank.
[Your balance has dropped below the minimum threshold.]
Sonny scoffed under his breath. "Yeah, tell me something I don't know."
Pocketing the phone, he trudged on. The school gates came into view soon enough — tall, rusted iron bars that did little to hide the fact that the institution behind them was barely clinging to its reputation.
Eden Vocational College. A place where dreams went to die quietly.
Sonny crossed the gates just as the warning bell rang out. Even so, he was in no rush whatsoever.
What was the point of rushing?
He made his way across the courtyard, weaving between clusters of students who barely noticed him. Some were chatting about the latest Awakened celebrities, others about the flashy gear being sold by the top guilds. Sonny moved and kept his head down.
At some point, a commotion suddenly emerged.
"Oh my god! Is that White Demon, Freya Rosenkrantz?!"
"Haha! Nice try, but nobody is going to fail for your pranks!"
"No, I'm serious! She's literally over there! Look!"
Sonny's ears caught the name, and he paused mid-step.
White Demon? Freya Rosenkrantz?
That was, in fact, a very familiar name. Even a nobody like him couldn't avoid hearing about her. For that matter, if someone said they didn't know her, he would respond 'are you living under a rock?'
To summarize everything, Freya Rosenkrantz was one of the top Awakened in the country, notorious not just for her overwhelming strength, but for her cold, merciless approach in battle. The media called her "White Demon" because of the stark contrast between her elegant, almost noble appearance and the brutal carnage she left behind.
But what was so different about her that made her unique? After all, there were dozens of top-ranked Awakened in the country?
Well, the answer to that question lay in her lineage — the Rosenkrantz bloodline. The head of the Rosenkrantz household, Jin Rosenkrantz was no ordinary man; he was an SS-ranked Awakened, famed for slaying Vyzaroth, the Frost Dragon that once ruled the 70th floor of the « Black Tower ». After tearing out and devouring its Frost Heart, he gained absolute authority over deadly ice and frost.
Given the difficulty of the Tower, this was already an impressive feat in its own right. More importantly, there were only a handful of SS-awakened in existence, and due to their overwhelming power, humanity had come to revere them as Saints.
As the daughter of the Dragon Saint, Jin Rosenkrantz, Freya Rosenkrantz inherited the Aspect Ability to command ice and frost. Normally, an Aspect was a unique power, bound to a single individual and impossible to transfer or pass down. However, the Rosenkrantz bloodline was an unprecedented exception — their Aspect was hereditary and could be passed only through blood, a phenomenon never seen before.
In addition to being the daughter of the Dragon Saint, Freya Rosenkrantz also earned fame as the youngest person to reach A-rank awakened known as Masters. This remarkable achievement further boosted her popularity!
Students scrambled toward the courtyard entrance, phones raised, with their voices rising in an excited din.
Cain turned his head, more out of reflex than curiosity.
And there she was.
Walking beneath the morning sun, her presence seemed to cast a chill over the air. Tall and lithe, with platinum-blonde hair that fell like silk past her shoulders, and icy blue eyes. The young awakened was dressed casually, perhaps she was trying to conceal her identity because she was wearing a face cap and a face mask. However, her attempt failed miserably as someone recognized her still.
The students around her gawked, whispered, and snapped photos like she was some rare beast out on display.
Sweeping her gaze around and realizing the situation, Freya lowered her head, shifted her posture, adjusted the strap of her own bag and started walking, her gaze fixed ahead.
"So that's her…" he thought, a strange mix of admiration and resentment bubbling up. After all, someone his age — maybe even younger — who had already clawed her way up to the top, earning fame, power, and the kind of respect he could only dream about. Even then, the young lady herself didn't seem to enjoy the amount of attention she was receiving.
For a split second, her eyes flicked in his direction.
Their gazes met.
"!?"
Sonny trembled a little. Her stare wasn't hostile, nor was it curious. It was as though she were looking through him rather than at him. Like he was just another speck in the landscape.
The connection broke as she looked away, continuing her stride toward the main building, the students still buzzing in her wake.
Sonny blinked and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Yeah… people like her live in another world altogether."
He tore his gaze away and resumed walking, forcing himself not to care. He had his own problems to deal with.
Even so, deep down, a small voice whispered:What if you could cross over into that world?
Thatonly lasted for a fleeting moment before he bought his thoughts back into reality. A bit surprised, Sonny scoffed at his own thoughts.
'Haha! Was I really that desperate to escape my way of life that I started to become delusional? When could I afford such luxury? Delusion is for the rich!'