"You call this competence? I call it a waste of oxygen!"
The scream didn't just vibrate in Leo's ears; it was a physical assault. Manager Gunt's face was a mottled purple, veins throbbing against his collar like trapped worms. Leo stood rigid, his spine locked in the parade-rest of the defeated, staring at the synthetic knot of Gunt's cheap tie.
"Sixteen hours, Leo! I gave you sixteen hours to format the logistics pivot tables, and you missed the decimal on the Shanghai shipment!"
Gunt lunged forward, barking the last word. A microscopic spray of spittle flew from his lips, landing high on Leo's right cheek, just under the eye. It was warm. It was disgusting. Leo could feel the droplet sliding slowly down his skin, tracking through the grime of a day spent staring at blue-light monitors. He didn't wipe it. Moving his hand would be interpreted as attitude.
"Pack your trash," Gunt hissed, stepping back and smoothing his suit jacket. "Security will escort you out. You're done."
The metal door to the service alley slammed shut behind him with the finality of a coffin lid. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the hum of the building's massive AC units expelling heat into the narrow passage.
Leo stood there, clutching a cardboard box that contained a cracked coffee mug, a stapler he didn't own, and a half-dead cactus. He set the box down on the wet concrete and wiped the drying spit from his cheek with the sleeve of his hoodie.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. Screen cracked. Battery at 12%. He tapped the banking app. The loading circle spun, mocking him, before vomiting up the number.
Balance: $12.40
A notification banner dropped down from the top of the screen: Rent Reminder: $800 due in 24 hours. Late fees apply.
Leo stared at the screen until the backlight timed out and the alley went dark. He was twenty-four years old. He had no savings, no family, and as of five minutes ago, no job. The hunger he'd been suppressing with caffeine for the last two days suddenly clawed at his stomach walls.
He looked at the metal trash can bolted to the brick wall opposite him. It was dented, rusted, and overflowing with the office's refuse. It looked exactly how he felt.
"Useless," Leo muttered.
The anger hit him all at once—a hot, sharp spike in his chest. He spun around and kicked the trash can with everything he had left.
CLANG!
The metal buckled inward. The impact jarred his ankle, sending a shockwave of pain up his shin. It hurt, but the pain felt real. It was the only real thing that had happened to him all day.
He leaned his forehead against the cool brick wall, eyes squeezed shut. "God, I wish this was a game," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I wish I could just... grind. Kill ten rats. Fix a sword. Get paid. None of this office politics bullshit."
He opened his eyes.
The world flickered.
At first, he thought it was a migraine aura—a jagged tear in his vision caused by low blood sugar. But the blue light didn't fade. It sharpened. A semi-transparent pane of glass materialized in the air, hovering six inches from his nose.
[SYSTEM ALERT]Psychological State: CRITICAL.Desperation Threshold Met.Initializing...[Hardcore Grinder System v1.0] ONLINE.
Leo waved his hand through the text. His fingers passed through the light like smoke, but the words remained, anchoring themselves to his retina.
"Okay," Leo breathed, backing away. "Okay, I'm hallucinating. Starvation. It's happening."
He turned to grab his box and run, but as his gaze swept across the alley, a new text box popped up, tethered by a thin white line to the trash can he had just kicked.
[Target: Dented Trash Can]Condition: DamagedAction Available: FixReward: 5 XP
Leo froze. The text pulsed gently, waiting.
Fix?
He looked at his hands. They were shaking. Not from fear anymore, but from a strange, electric curiosity. He had spent ten thousand hours in MMOs before he sold his rig to pay for his deposit. He knew a quest marker when he saw one.
Slowly, Leo approached the can. He dropped to one knee. The dent was deep, the galvanized steel folded in on itself.
"Fix," he said aloud. Nothing happened.
Right. Not voice command. Manual input.
He jammed his fingers inside the rim of the can, finding leverage against the dented metal. He pushed.
It didn't budge.
The resistance was absolute. His muscles, atrophied from months of desk work, screamed in protest. He gritted his teeth, planting his feet against the pavement. He imagined Gunt's face on the metal. He imagined the eviction notice on his door.
"Come... on!"
He groaned, sweat beading on his forehead. He threw his entire body weight into the leverage point. The metal groaned back.
POP.
With a sound like a gunshot, the steel snapped back into its original convex shape. Leo stumbled back, gasping for air, clutching his bruised fingers.
A golden chime rang out—not in the alley, but inside his skull.
[Task Complete]Reward: +5 XPCurrent Status: Unemployed Vagrant (Lvl 0)XP: 5 / 100
Leo stared at the floating text. The dopamine hit was immediate and potent. It was better than coffee. Better than sleep. It was progress.
He looked down at his hands. They were dirty and throbbing, but for the first time in years, they felt capable.
Rain began to fall. It struck the hot asphalt of the alley, instantly vaporizing into a low mist. The smell hit him hard—the scent of wet rust and old copper coins, sharp and metallic in the back of his throat.
Leo picked up his box of office trash, but he didn't leave the alley. He looked up.
The world had changed.
Floating above a puddle of stagnant water was a small grey bar: [Resource: Dirty Water - Toxic]. Above a sleeping stray cat curled on a dumpster: [NPC: Stray - Neutral].
And then, his eyes locked on the neon sign flickering in the window of the greasy diner at the end of the alleyway. The sign read HELP WANTED.
But the blue box overlaying it said something else entirely.
[Dungeon Detected: The Grease Pit]Difficulty: Very HardLoot Potential: High (Currency / Sustenance)Entry Requirement: Desperation
Leo adjusted his grip on the box. He touched his pocket, feeling the emptiness where his wallet should be.
"Very Hard," Leo whispered, a corner of his mouth twitching upward.
He started walking toward the light.