I don't like systems that pretend to understand people.
They reduce you to numbers, letters, and neat little categories—as if power is something you can measure without consequences.
My name is Kent Salvador.
According to the Buddy System, I'm a Class D Attacker.
Sounds about right.
At least, that's what everyone thinks.
I stood in the grand hall with my hands in my pockets while whispers followed me like shadows.
"D-class?"
"He doesn't look special."
"Probably just brute force."
If only it were that simple.
I learned early on that some abilities aren't meant to be shown. Mine was one of them. The first time it manifested, half a training field disappeared. The second time, I nearly did too.
After that, I stopped trying.
That's how you survive in a world that fears destruction more than weakness—you hide.
So when the system labeled me low-tier, I didn't argue. I didn't care. Expectations are chains, and D-class chains are easy to break.
What I didn't expect was this.
"Assigned buddy: Marcus Lee."
The hall went dead silent.
I turned around and spotted him instantly. The healer. The one the system couldn't match.
He looked… tense. Like someone constantly bracing for impact. Sharp eyes, clenched jaw. Not weak—but not dangerous either. The kind of guy people overlook until they need fixing.
A support.
Of all people.
I laughed under my breath.
"So that's how it's gonna be," I muttered.
After the ceremony, we were ushered out in pairs. Or rather, most people walked together willingly. Marcus and I stood a few steps apart, neither of us saying a word.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"…You're Kent, right?"
I glanced at him. "That's what the system says."
He frowned. "You don't talk much."
"Neither do you," I replied.
That shut him up—for about five seconds.
"They said you're a D-class attacker," he said carefully. "What's your ability?"
I stopped walking.
For a brief moment, I considered lying. It would've been easier. But something about his eyes—curious, guarded, but not judgmental—made me answer honestly.
"I destroy things," I said.
He blinked. "That's… vague."
"Good."
We reached the dormitory corridor, the lights flickering faintly overhead. Nameplates hovered beside each door. Buddy Dorm — Room 314.
Our room.
Marcus hesitated before entering.
"You don't have to worry," I said casually. "I won't blow the place up."
"…You say that like it's an option."
I smirked.
Inside, the room was plain—two beds, a shared desk, lockers, and a wide window overlooking the training grounds. The silence stretched again.
Marcus sat on his bed, rubbing his palms together.
"Look," he said finally. "I know this pairing isn't ideal."
"Not ideal?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm a walking red flag and you're a healer nobody wants."
He winced but didn't deny it.
"I just need this to work," he continued. "I have something important I'm trying to find. And to do that, I need to climb the rankings."
I watched him closely.
Ambition.
Desperation.
Dangerous combination.
"I don't care about rankings," I said.
He looked surprised. "You don't?"
"Nope."
"Then why are you here?"
I turned toward the window. Outside, students trained—fire, blades, shields, explosions. Power everywhere. Controlled. Celebrated.
"I'm here," I said quietly, "to make sure I never lose control again."
Marcus didn't respond.
That night, we were assigned our first evaluation mission—a low-risk dungeon sweep. Standard procedure for new pairs.
Easy. Safe. Boring.
That's what they called it.
The next day, inside the dungeon, things went wrong immediately.
A corrupted beast burst from the shadows—stronger, faster than expected. Marcus reacted first, casting a healing barrier around us.
"Stay behind me!" he shouted.
The creature struck anyway.
Too fast.
Too strong.
The barrier shattered.
Marcus was thrown back, slamming hard against the stone wall. I heard the crack before I saw the blood.
Something snapped inside me.
Not anger.
Fear.
My ability surged, hot and violent, clawing its way up from deep inside my chest.
Don't.
Not again.
The dungeon floor began to fracture.
The beast froze—then screamed.
Marcus looked up at me, eyes wide—not in fear.
In realization.
"Kent…" he whispered. "What are you—"
I stepped forward.
And let the world break.
The creature didn't just die.
It ceased to exist.
Stone, air, space itself warped and collapsed inward, as if reality had been erased in front of my hand. The force stopped inches from Marcus's body—perfectly controlled.
Silence followed.
The dungeon trembled.
Marcus stared at me, breathing hard.
"You're not a D-class," he said.
I clenched my fist, blood dripping from my palm.
"No," I replied.
"I'm the reason the system lies."
And for the first time, I saw it in his eyes—
Not fear.
Not doubt.
But excitement.
The Healer had found his Destroyer.