Ethan Hale never believed in fate.
He believed in spreadsheets, alarm clocks, and the predictable hum of fluorescent lights. He believed in microwaved dinners at eleven p.m. and the quiet satisfaction of finishing a report before the deadline. Fate, destiny, the grand cosmic planthose were stories for other people, not him.
That night, however, proved him wrong.
It was late. Too late. He had stayed behind to finish a report his supervisor dumped on him at the last minute—the kind of petty punishment given to those too polite to say no. His office had emptied hours ago, the elevator lobby echoing only with the faint buzz of fluorescent lights.
Ethan pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders. December's chill bit through his thin sweater, sending a shiver down his spine.
Five blocks to his apartment. Five blocks of predictable streets, familiar alleys, and quiet shops.
He passed the old bakery, its shutters down, the smell of stale bread still lingering faintly in the air. The pharmacy stood closed, its neon sign flickering like it couldn't quite decide whether to stay alive. And then the alley. The usual gathering spot for stray cats—this alley was harmless.
But tonight, it wasn't harmless.
A scream pierced the night. Sharp. Panicked. Human.
"MOM!!"
Ethan froze, instincts kicking in before rational thought. Across the street, near the alley, he saw them: a small girl clutching her mother's coat, wide-eyed and terrified, and a man standing before them. Tall. Hood up. Face shadowed. A metallic glint in his hand.
A knife.
Ethan's heart thundered.
The mother pressed herself in front of the girl, trembling. "P-please… take whatever you want. Just don't hurt her," she whispered.
The man stepped forward, relentless, expressionless, cruel.
Ethan didn't think. His body moved on its own.
"HEY!" he shouted, voice slicing through the quiet night. "STOP!"
The man turned, only for a second—too short to register what was coming.
Ethan lunged, pushing the mother and daughter backward. The girl fell into her mother's arms, burying her face in the coat.
"Run!" Ethan yelled.
The knife lunged. Pain exploded in his side.
It was sharp. Cold. But fleeting. He barely felt it over the surge of adrenaline.
He pushed the man back with every ounce of strength he had. The attacker stumbled into a dumpster, cursing, and then fled into the darkness.
Sirens screamed closer.
Ethan fell to his knees, vision swimming, lungs burning. The mother grabbed him, holding tight, tears streaming.
"You're safe," he whispered, forcing calm into his voice. He could feel warmth spreading in his chest—not from the wound, but from having done something meaningful, something that mattered.
The last thing he heard before darkness swallowed him completely was the girl's trembling voice.
"We won't forget you."
When he awoke, it wasn't in a hospital bed, nor an afterlife, nor anywhere he recognized.
It was a classroom.
Wooden desks lined up in perfect rows, sunlight filtering through tall, cathedral-style windows. Chalk dust floated lazily in the air. Twenty students sat staring at him. Not all of them looked scared—but all of them were alert, waiting.
Ethan blinked. He wasn't sitting. He was standing, behind a teacher's desk, long black robes brushing the floor. His hand gripped a stick of chalk.
A faint breeze ruffled the papers stacked on the desks.
And then the system appeared.
## **[Welcome, Ethan Hale]**
## **[You have been reborn as: Instructor (F-Rank) — Rowanveil Academy]**
## **[Blessing: Dangerous Aura (Passive)]**
Ethan read.
*Dangerous Aura?*
A note explained:
*Your presence radiates an overwhelming sense of threat. Others instinctively believe you are extremely powerful.*
*Effect is intimidation only. No actual combat ability.*
He stared.
"So… I look dangerous… but I'm… not?"
Several students flinched. One boy even shook visibly.
"Uh—I'm not going to hurt you—"
The boy fainted into his desk.
Ethan froze, heart pounding. *Perfect. Five minutes alive, and I've scared a child unconscious.*
He scanned the room. All twenty students were staring at him, wide-eyed, frozen in a mix of awe and fear. The aura wasn't something he could control—it existed simply because he existed. Like a predator in a herd of sheep.
*Think rationally. This is a game world. Rowanveil Academy… the starting tutorial… but a death trap for NPCs.*
Powerful monsters attacked. Students died in random events. Assassination attempts were frequent. Dark artifacts hid beneath the school.
*I need information. And I need to survive.*
A hand raised slowly in the back. Trembling.
"Uh… Instructor Hale… sir…?"
Ethan tried to smile. The aura turned it into a grim, almost terrifying expression.
"I-I… what will we learn today?"
Exhaling slowly, he mentally noted: "Stay calm. No unnecessary power flexing."
Another system notification appeared:
## **[Subject Assigned: Combat Theory & Monster Behavior (Beginner)]**
Ethan groaned. He knew nothing about combat or monsters.
He cleared his throat. "Today… we are reviewing basic safety protocol."
Students nodded eagerly, taking notes as if he were a seasoned expert.
*They're actually buying this?*
And then… chaos.
BOOM.
A loud crash echoed from the corridor. Hairs stood on his neck. A growl.
The door slammed open. A massive Fanghound—a twisted canine monster, level 8—leaped into the classroom.
Students screamed. Desks were overturned.
Ethan froze. He had no weapon, no spells, no fighting ability. Only… aura.
He tried to move, to think.
Then the system prompted:
### **[Dangerous Aura Activated]**
Target senses overwhelming threat. Fear + instinctive caution triggered.
The Fanghound froze. Its ears flattened. Tail tucked. Every muscle tensed.
Ethan swallowed. *Good boy…* he whispered.
The beast whimpered, turned, and ran.
The class stared at him like he had performed magic beyond comprehension.
*I just wanted a quiet life…*
He dismissed the class early. Students ran out whispering:
"He scared the monster with his aura!"
"He's legendary!"
"Rank S, maybe higher!"
Ethan listened, horrified.
*Legendary? I can't even run five steps without losing breath…*
After class, a system notification appeared:
**[Warning: Faculty Interest Increasing]**
**Rumors of your power are spreading.**
**Requests for meetings: 5 pending.**
**Label: Strongest Instructor in Rowanveil Academy**
He groaned. Attention. Exactly what he didn't want.
Walking to the staircase, he thought of the **Dreadborne Grimoire**, hidden beneath the academy. Dark, forbidden, terrifying. A source of real power.
*Maybe I need it… or I'll never survive here.*
He descended. Torches flickered. Shadows stretched across ancient stone.
A faint whisper brushed his ear:
"Come, Child of the Dark Aura… I have been waiting."
Ethan froze. But he stepped forward.
Peaceful or not… his journey has already began.