I wake up to a floating window in my face.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Black Lotus acknowledges your existence.
Welcome, slave of the petals.
"Slave?" That's a hell of a way to start a conversation.
I kick the mattress and pace the room like movement'll shake the damn thing off. Wave my hands through the air—nothing. It sits there, blinking at me like an unpaid debt that knows I'm not in the mood.
What the hell is going on?
Then the word changes, clean and clinical:
Press YES to enter mission.
I stare at it. Mission. Cute. I don't even know what that means in this setup, but one thing's obvious—the prompt isn't going anywhere by itself. It's not a polite suggestion. It's a contract with teeth.
My gut tells me this could end very badly. Bad and I are old acquaintances. We go on vacations together.
But bad has also been useful.
I press YES.
Mission: Bloom 1st Petal
Black Essence: 0/1000
Note: Complete within five days.
A small warning icon pulsed at the bottom. I touch it.
Warning: If mission fails, forced blooming will occur at the cost of… slave's possession.
"…What?"
Then I notice a little profile icon in the upper corner. I tap it. A new screen appears.
PROFILE – Michael (Slave)
Core Combat Stats
Physical Strength: 9
Agility: 9
Endurance: 9
Vitality: 9
Offensive Power
Base Attack Power: 0
Ability Amplification: 0%
Elemental Affinity (Black Essence): 0%
Critical Force: 0
Defensive Power
Damage Resistance: 0%
Corruption Resistance: 0%
Mental Fortitude: 0%
Regeneration Rate: 0
Essence & Ability Growth
Essence Absorption Rate: 0/sec
Lotus Synchronization: 0%
Ability Tier: None
Essence Capacity: 0
Petal Stage: 0/24
I stare at the pitiful numbers.
"Wow. Slave of nothing."
If this system wants me to be its chosen one, I mean slave one, it has picked the lowest bid. And somehow… I have a feeling that is exactly the point.
I'm still staring at the profile screen, everything at zero like some cruel joke, when—
Thud!
A sharp kick catches me from the side. I stumble, nearly hitting the wall. The pain feels… familiar.
I look up, and there she is.
Lily.
An outcast like me. My age. The most beautiful woman in this rotten slum. And right now, she's standing tall, eyes blazing with the kind of fury that could burn a house down.
She doesn't even give me a chance to breathe before snapping,
"Where the hell did you run to?"
I blink, still trying to process the sudden ambush.
"When I searched for you the whole damn night, I found you lying in the middle of the road—in a crater, Michael. For a second I thought a meteor struck!"
I stay silent. Not because I'm ignoring her, but because I genuinely don't have an answer. Even I don't know what happened.
Then—Smack!—her palm cracks across my face.
"What the hell was that for?!" I snap.
"For leaving the boss worried sick!"
I scoff, rubbing my jaw.
"No need to worry about petty things. I can take care of myse—"
Another slap.
"Oh, come on!" I growl.
She just stares at me. And in those eyes… yeah, there's anger. Enough to make a sane man keep his mouth shut. But behind it, there's something else—worry. Deep, gnawing worry.
She exhales sharply, then says,
"Let's meet the boss."
I grin faintly.
"Yes, of course. That's what I planned to do anyway."
Lily and I step out of the house.
Just outside, a solitary grave rests in silence—my mother's. Behind it, a large broken grave stone planted at the center and two rusted swords cross together. From one hilt, a necklace dangles, swaying gently in the stale wind.
My breath catches. Memories flood in—her laughter, her warmth, the way she pampered me as if I were the only light in her world. Then the vision twists, warped into a nightmare. A pool of blood. Her broken body. My own screams echoing in the dark.
Uniformed men. Shadows. Faces I can't quite recall.
The memory fragments, slipping away the harder I chase it.
My body trembles.
Lily's hand rests lightly on my shoulder, her touch hesitant but steady—as if to anchor me, to check if I'm still here.
I ignore it.
Instead, I step forward, leaving the grave behind, and walk into the cramped, rust-choked streets of the outcast slums.
Eyes follow me.
Not friendly ones—cold, judging.
I don't blame them, not really. They're the type who work with their heads down, clinging to scraps of dignity. I'm the type who scavenges, loots… survives by any means. In their eyes, that makes me filth.
Doesn't matter. In mine, they're just pig shits dressed in rags.
The murmurs start as soon as we pass. Little whispers, half-hidden sneers. Some of it is loud enough for Lily to catch.
She stops mid-step, turns to the crowd, and lets her glare do the talking.
"What? Do you have a problem?"
She cracks her knuckles slow, deliberate. The air shifts. Those whispers dry up fast. People look away.
We keep walking until the streets open up to the base of the Tower—a squat, iron-spined structure jutting into the grey sky like a watchtower for a prison that's long forgotten.
Inside, the air feels colder. Cleaner.
"Ele," Lily says.
A smooth synthetic voice answers,
"Yes. Voice recognition activated."
From the side wall, panels hiss open, revealing a retinal scanner and fingerprint pad.
"Please provide both retinal and fingerprint verification," Ele says.
Lily leans in, letting the scanner flash across her eye, then presses her fingers to the pad.
"Recognition successful," Ele intones.
As Lily puts her fingerprint and retinal imprint, the platform we're standing on begins to sink. Down, down, down—until it stops with a low thud. The doors slide open.
For me, it's nothing new. I've seen this a thousand times.
But for you? You'd probably think this was something out of a parallel-universe theory—a secret society operating deep beneath the surface.
Lily and I step out. The air is thick with the bustle of a hundred voices—shouting, bargaining, haggling over stolen goods. Weapons. Tech. Trinkets worth fortunes up above, traded here for scraps of credit. This is my world: scavenging, looting, and selling to whoever has the guts—and the coin.
Up in the slums, the outcasts glare at me like I'm dirt. Here, it's the opposite.
"Yo, Mike! Where've you been all these days?"
"I'm waiting for your next loot—don't just sell to the boss, man!"
I don't answer. They can cheer all they want, but I know the truth—most of them are just waiting for the day I slip and fall. That's the thing about my kind: we clap for each other's victories, but we live for the downfall.
We make our way to our designated spot—easy to find among the chaos. While the rest of the market looks like a pile of garbage on fire, our place stands out… though not by much. It's still noisy, cramped, and full of shouting—buyers scrambling for weapons and high-tech gadgets, most of them looted from C.O.S.M.O.S. And, yeah… most of those jobs are mine.
The first to greet me isn't Lily, or some customer. It's Raju. Twelve years old. Mouth like a sewer.
"Fucking bastards, keep in line—or shut your damn ass and get out!" he yells at the customers, then spots me. "Yo, Mike! Still alive, huh? Go see the boss. Pray you don't get a burn mark this time."
I shoot back, "Go drown, brat."
He turns to Lily, smirking. "Hey, fatass! What took you so long? Making excuses to skip your job?"
This is the last mistake he'd make today.
The moment those words leave his mouth, I know that brat's screams would come. And sure enough—seconds later—his wails echoes behind me as Lily went to work on him. Poor kid.
I step into the back room.
As Victor skt at his desk, his fingers rest lightly on the old, worn frame of that group photo—soldiers frozen in a moment of happiness I couldn't relate to. They looked like they belonged somewhere… like they fought for something real.
I don't know a single face in it, except for his. Boss Victor.
He don't even need to turn to know I am here. But when he finally did, that stare—cold, sharp, like it could skin me alive—locks onto me. It is the kind of look that made the air feel heavier.
And then this damn system starts to make fun of me.
From thin air, right in my vision, a glowing, black-edged window appears. Letters sharp as knives:
Mission: Defeat Victor.
Reward: Black Essence + 20,000
Bonus: +50% Core Combat Status
Proceed? [Yes] / [No]
My heart didn't beat faster—it stopped.
Is this System messing with me? Is it trying to bait me into fighting him—Victor—the man who could probably snap my neck before I blink?
And worse… why is it feel like it is smiling at me from inside my head?
And I was like," What the fuck!"