Lucian White had once been called a prodigy — a young man with potential, charm, and ambition.
Now, he was just a shadow of that promise.
The curtains in his small apartment were drawn, the air thick with the stale scent of instant noodles and hopelessness. The faint glow of his monitor flickered across the cluttered room, illuminating stacks of manga, unopened energy drinks, and a dusty camera resting on a forgotten tripod.
Lucian lay on the couch, his unkempt hair sticking out in all directions, his eyes glazed over as the opening of some obscure anime echoed through the room.
Once, he had a girlfriend who called him her "light." Now, he barely had the strength to keep the lights on.
It had been three years since that day — the day his life had been torn apart.
His girlfriend, May, had always been affectionate… maybe too much. When she saw him holding hands with another girl — a childhood friend, nothing more — something inside her had snapped. What followed was a blur of screams, tears, and pain.
And then, a knife.
Lucian still remembered the cold steel and the flash of agony. In one brutal motion, she had taken away the greatest treasure of mankind.
His manhood.
After that, Lucian wasn't really Lucian anymore. He stopped going out, stopped working, stopped dreaming.
He drowned his pain in anime marathons and fanfiction forums, seeking refuge in worlds where protagonists were rewarded for suffering — where trauma led to power, not pity.
He never realized that, somewhere beyond the walls of his loneliness, his ex-girlfriend had been released from prison — a year earlier than expected for "good behavior."
And she was furious.
That fury had brought her here, now, to the same apartment he had turned into a tomb of nostalgia.
The doorknob turned quietly. The hinges creaked.
Lucian didn't notice. He was halfway through an isekai episode about reincarnation via truck accident when the click of a safety switch reached his ears.
He blinked.
Turned his head.
And froze.
May stood there — older, thinner, her eyes wild and wet. She was trembling, not with fear but with hatred that had fermented for years. In her hand was a small pistol.
"May…?" His voice cracked. "W-What are you—"
"You ruined my life, Lucian." Her tone was eerily calm, yet every word dripped venom. "You made me a monster… and you moved on."
Lucian opened his mouth, but the click of the hammer silenced him.
"I just want us to be together," she whispered. "Forever."
The muzzle flashed.
For an instant, time shattered into chaos — a single bullet spiraling toward his skull.
And then…
Everything stopped.
---
The world froze in a surreal tableau. The smoke from the gun hung motionless in the air, the sound of the shot suspended in eerie silence.
Lucian couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't even blink. But his mind—his consciousness—remained painfully awake.
Then, a soft chime rang in his ears.
A digital voice, calm yet otherworldly, spoke within the stillness.
---
{Welcome to the Essence Gacha System.}
{You may roll a Gacha on every day that is 2^i where i = day (Whole Number). The day you received the System is considered Day 1.}
{In mundane terms, you may roll on: Day 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256… and so on.}
{Would you like to roll the Essence Gacha?}
---
It took Lucian several moments to process what he was seeing — or rather, hearing.
A translucent interface flickered before his frozen eyes, its design reminiscent of the RPG systems he'd spent countless hours obsessing over.
"So… let me get this straight," he muttered, voice echoing oddly within the timeless void. "My psychotic ex just tried to shoot me, and now I've got a… System?"
He would have laughed, but even his lips refused to move.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this was what dying felt like — your brain firing off one last delusional fantasy before it shut down.
Still, as far as final hallucinations went, it wasn't bad.
Lucian focused on the floating screen. "Fine. Roll the damn Gacha. I've got nothing to lose anyway."
---
{Rolling the Gacha…}
Soft chimes echoed like raindrops of light.
{You have obtained: Essence of the Nomad.}
---
Essence of the Nomad
By taking this essence, you take on the skills of the ultimate traveler.
You are granted infinite stamina.
Your body is rid of all minor aches and pains; minor wounds heal instantaneously.
Other living beings do not see you as a threat and will ignore you. (This can be toggled.)
You can teleport by any method you wish.
You can travel to alternate universes at will.
You are granted encyclopedic knowledge of all the most exciting places in the multiverse.
You always have enough money to get by.
You are immune to disease.
You automatically know how to drive, pilot, or ride any vehicle or mount.
You can survive in any environment, adapting as needed.
You can speak, read, and understand any language — verbal, written, or telepathic.
You always know where you are, where you've been, and how to navigate.
You can 'mark' any world to find it again.
---
Lucian's eyes widened. "...Holy shit."
This wasn't just a survival skill — this was a god-tier cheat.
His mind raced as he felt something ignite within him. The moment he mentally accepted the Essence, a surge of warmth flooded his body. The dull ache that had plagued him for years vanished in an instant. He could feel strength returning to his limbs, clarity to his thoughts.
It was as though the entire universe opened before him — endless worlds, infinite horizons, and the ability to explore them all.
But right now, there was one very specific world he wanted to leave.
Lucian could see, in the corner of his frozen reflection, the bullet suspended midair, inches from his head. He didn't know if this "time stop" would last, but he wasn't planning to test it.
"Alright, System," he thought sharply. "Take me somewhere safe. Anywhere."
And then — the world dissolved.
---
He reappeared standing upright, the smell of polished wood and faint incense replacing the metallic tang of gunpowder.
Before him stood a large wooden counter and a man behind it — or perhaps something more than a man.
The stranger was of indeterminate age, his features sharp yet oddly timeless. His smile was polite but faintly unsettling, like someone who had seen too much to be surprised anymore.
"Welcome, guest, to the Midnight Inn," the man said with an elegant bow. "Would you like to book a room?"
Lucian blinked, still dizzy from the transition. The Inn around him was… strange. The architecture didn't belong to any single culture. Japanese sliding doors blended with Victorian chandeliers. Windows showed not streets or cities, but a swirling void of stars and nebulae.
"Uh… sure," Lucian managed. "Preferably somewhere quiet."
"Of course."
Coins he didn't remember owning appeared in his hand — glowing softly, etched with runes. He handed them over without question, realizing this was part of his Nomad ability to "always have enough money to get by."
The innkeeper nodded approvingly. "Room 7, second floor. You'll find the atmosphere… accommodating."
Lucian took the key and started up the stairs, still reeling. He couldn't help but smile faintly.
"Well, at least I'm not dead. That's progress."
Obviously, he knew where he was — he'd realized it the moment he arrived.
The Innkeeper Verse. Specifically, the Midnight Inn.
---
Meanwhile, in a private chamber behind the reception desk, the innkeeper — Lex — was pacing.
He had seen countless guests from different worlds, but the moment Lucian had appeared, something in the Inn's system had gone haywire.
A warning flashed across Lex's interface.
---
[Alert: Sovereign-class Entity detected.]
New Quest:
A Sovereign is residing in the Inn. Cater to all their needs and ensure their stay is satisfactory.
Reward: 1-Minute Butter Knife Token
Remark: Better serve a Sovereign than a thousand Immortals.
---
Lex stopped pacing and stared at the message.
"A Sovereign? Here?"
The last time a Sovereign had appeared, the System had practically bent reality itself to fulfill their desires. That alone was enough proof of how influential they were.
His fingers drummed thoughtfully on the counter. He had dealt with gods, demons, and cosmic travelers, but a Sovereign was something else entirely — beings whose mere existence could distort universal laws.
He frowned. "That young man… he didn't feel like a Sovereign. Then again, I've only ever met one before."
In truth, the Inn's system had misclassified Lucian.
The Essence of the Nomad included the trait 'Other beings do not see you as a threat,' and to the Inn's detection matrix, that aura resembled the divine passivity of Sovereign entities.
Lex sighed, rubbing his temples. "Well… if the system says he's a Sovereign, I'd better treat him like one."
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"And maybe earn that Butter Knife reward while I'm at it."
After all, the last time he'd used the Butter Knife, a new religion had been born.
You couldn't just ignore a reward like that now, could you?
The air shimmered faintly around him as he began preparing for his mysterious guest's stay — unaware that this single misclassification would set off a chain of events spanning countless worlds.
---
Lucian, meanwhile, sat on the edge of his new bed, staring out the window at the cosmic sea beyond. He exhaled slowly, a ghost of a smile forming.
He'd been seconds from death. Now, he was alive — in a place beyond imagination — with the power to go anywhere.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the pulse of energy within. "Essence of the Nomad, huh? Guess I'm not just a couch potato anymore."
Outside, stars shifted in impossible patterns, and the Midnight Inn drifted silently through the multiverse — sheltering a man who, by all rights, should have been dead.
And somewhere deep within its walls, destiny stirred.