Chapter 1 — F-Rank Teacher
The chalk snapped in Lin Mo's fingers.
A sharp crack echoed across the classroom, followed by suppressed laughter.
He looked down at the broken chalk, then calmly placed both pieces on the desk as if nothing had happened.
"Page forty-three," he said. "The structure of monster cores. Read."
The room filled with the sound of flipping pages—slow, lazy, careless.
No one was afraid of him.
Why would they be?
Lin Mo was F-rank.
At twenty-six, he stood in front of thirty awakened high school students as their homeroom teacher, wearing a cheap gray coat and an outdated communicator watch. He didn't radiate spiritual pressure. He didn't have a cultivation aura. He didn't even have the basic instinctive threat that awakened humans unconsciously released.
To them, he was harmless.
Invisible.
At the back of the class, a boy leaned back in his chair and whispered loudly, "Why are we being taught monster theory by someone who can't even enter a secret realm?"
A few students snickered.
Another voice followed, deliberately careless. "Yeah. My cousin killed a D-rank Ironhide yesterday. What would he know?"
Lin Mo heard every word.
His hearing was normal, not enhanced by talent or energy—but humiliation had sharpened it over the years.
He didn't respond.
Instead, he picked up another piece of chalk and continued writing on the board, back straight, posture calm. The diagram of a monster core took shape under his hand, neat and precise.
Only his grip tightened.
Outside the classroom window, the sky was overcast. Heavy clouds rolled slowly over the city, dull and oppressive, like a bruise that hadn't healed.
A student near the window frowned. "Teacher… isn't the weather weird today?"
Lin Mo glanced outside briefly. "It's autumn. Focus on your lesson."
The student shrugged and returned to his book.
The bell rang ten minutes later.
Students rushed out, conversations loud and animated—talk of rankings, secret realm schedules, and whose family had secured access to a new black hole that had appeared near the southern district last week.
Lin Mo remained behind, erasing the board slowly.
When the classroom emptied, silence returned.
He stood there for a moment longer than necessary, then exhaled and gathered his materials.
In the hallway, two teachers were talking.
"…can't believe the school still keeps him," one said in a low voice. "F-rank. It's embarrassing."
"At least he's obedient," the other replied. "Doesn't complain. Doesn't ask for realm access. Knows his place."
They stopped talking when they saw him.
Awkward smiles appeared.
"Teacher Lin."
"Heading home?"
Lin Mo nodded politely. "Yes."
They stepped aside to let him pass.
Their relief was obvious.
---
The city of Jiangzhou was loud in the evenings.
Buses roared past. Digital billboards flashed rankings of top hunters. Screens replayed footage of elite teams clearing secret realms—fire, lightning, blades glowing with spiritual energy.
Lin Mo walked through it all like a ghost.
His communicator vibrated.
A message.
Liang Xue: We need to talk.
He stopped walking.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Then another message came through.
Liang Xue: I'm at the café near your apartment.
Lin Mo stared at the screen for a long moment before replying.
Lin Mo: Okay.
The café was small, modern, and expensive—too expensive for a teacher's salary. Liang Xue was already seated when he arrived, her posture straight, her clothes neat and fashionable.
She didn't stand up when she saw him.
"You're late," she said.
"I came straight from school."
She looked at him, eyes scanning him from head to toe, then sighed.
"Lin Mo… do you know what people say about us?"
He didn't answer.
"They say I'm wasting my future," she continued. "That I'm dragging myself down by staying with someone who can't even cultivate."
Her words were practiced.
This wasn't spontaneous.
"I got accepted into a C-rank exploration team," she said. "They're entering the Red Fang Realm next month."
"That's good," Lin Mo replied sincerely.
She laughed softly, but there was no warmth in it. "You don't get it. People there… they look at you like a burden. Like a joke."
She leaned forward. "I can't keep pretending."
Pretending.
Lin Mo nodded slowly. "So this is goodbye."
"Yes." She didn't hesitate. "Honestly, you were just… convenient. Always helping. Always supporting. But that's all."
She stood up, grabbed her bag, and added lightly, "Don't follow me anymore, okay? It's embarrassing. I don't want people thinking you're my licking dog."
Then she walked away.
The café noise rushed back in.
Lin Mo remained seated for a few seconds, then stood up and left without looking back.
---
Night had fallen by the time he reached his apartment district.
Streetlights flickered weakly. The clouds overhead had thickened, swirling unnaturally, forming a slow, circular motion that made his chest feel tight.
His communicator buzzed again.
This time, it was his sister.
Lin Yan: I'm staying at my friend's place tonight.
Lin Mo: Did something happen?
A pause.
Lin Yan: Nothing. Just busy.
He stared at the message.
She used to call him bro every day. Used to cling to him, asking him to tell stories about the old days before the mutation, before rankings, before power decided everything.
Now her messages were short. Distant.
Like everyone else.
A low rumble echoed across the city.
Lin Mo stopped walking.
The streetlights flickered violently.
People screamed in the distance.
He looked up.
The clouds were no longer just swirling—they were collapsing inward, folding into themselves like water draining into a sink.
At the center of the sky, a black vortex formed.
Not a secret realm entrance.
Not a known phenomenon.
Something deeper. Darker.
The air grew heavy, crushing. Lin Mo's knees buckled slightly as pressure bore down on him.
"What the hell…?"
Lightning flashed—but it wasn't white or blue.
It was black.
The vortex pulsed.
Then the thunder came down.
Straight onto him.
Pain exploded.
Lin Mo felt his body lift off the ground, nerves screaming as something tore through him—not flesh, but something deeper. His vision shattered. Sound vanished.
In that instant, memories flashed that weren't his.
Heat.
Sharpness.
Speed.
Talents.
Then darkness swallowed him whole.
---
When Lin Mo opened his eyes, he was lying in a cracked section of pavement.
Rain fell lightly.
The vortex was gone.
His body trembled as he forced himself upright. Every nerve burned—but he was alive.
He laughed weakly.
"Of course I survive," he muttered. "Even lightning doesn't want me."
Instinctively, he reached inward.
To the place where his talent should be.
Something answered.
Not empty.
Not F-rank.
Detected: Borrowed Talent — Low-Grade Lightning Affinity
Lin Mo froze.
His breath caught.
He focused again.
The sensation sharpened, stabilizing, as if something was being refined.
A shadow stirred deep within him—silent, watching.
Lin Mo stared at his trembling hand as faint sparks danced briefly across his fingertips.
For the first time since 2003, since the world abandoned him—
He smiled.
Talent was no longer sacred.
And neither was fate.