The notification popped up on Rama Kusuma's phone at 6:47 AM.
[Guild Notice: Emergency Raid - D-Rank Gate - Participants Needed]
He stared at it for exactly three seconds before deleting it. Not because he didn't want to go. But because he knew what would happen if he tried.
"Darling~"
Rama nearly dropped his phone.
Sekar's voice came from behind him, sweet as honey and sharp as a blade. Her arms wrapped around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder as she peered at his screen.
"What are you looking at so early in the morning?" she purred.
"Nothing important," Rama said, keeping his voice steady. "Just spam."
Her grip tightened. Just slightly. Just enough.
"Mm. Good. Because you know how I worry when you look at guild notifications." She pressed a kiss to his neck. "You're not thinking about joining another raid, are you?"
"Of course not."
"Good boy."
She released him, gliding toward the kitchen in her silk nightgown. Even first thing in the morning, Sekar Aditya was breathtaking. Long black hair cascading down her back. Flawless skin. Eyes that could melt steel—or freeze your soul, depending on her mood.
Rama's wife. The S-Rank Hunter. Guild Master of Eternal Bond, one of Indonesia's top five guilds.
And Rama? He was an E-Rank Tank. The man famous for being her husband and absolutely nothing else.
"I'm making breakfast," Sekar announced, already pulling ingredients from the refrigerator. "Your favorite. Nasi goreng with extra eggs."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to." She glanced back, smile radiant. "Besides, you need your strength. You're going to the market today, remember?"
Right. The market. His weekly assignment. While other Hunters cleared gates and fought monsters, Rama Kusuma bought vegetables.
"I remember," he said.
"Perfect. I'll make you a list." She turned back to the stove, humming softly.
Rama watched her cook, this beautiful, terrifying woman who somehow loved him. Who'd married him when they were both ordinary people, before the Gates changed everything.
Before she became a goddess and he became a joke.
His phone buzzed again. Different notification this time.
[Hunter's Forum - New Post]
Subject: "Why Does the S-Rank Stay With That Trash?"
Rama should have ignored it. He always ignored it. But his thumb moved on its own, clicking the link.
The comments loaded instantly.
"Seriously, Sekar Aditya could have anyone. Why stick with an E-Rank? He can't even clear a D-Rank gate without a full party babysitting him. It's embarrassing. She's literally carrying his dead weight."
"Money, probably. Living off her income like a leech."
"I heard he failed the last three raids he joined. THREE. How do you fail a D-Rank raid?"
"Because he's USELESS. Eternal Bond should kick him out. He's making the guild look bad."
Rama's jaw clenched. His fingers tightened around the phone until the case creaked.
"Rama?"
He looked up. Sekar was watching him, spatula in hand, eyes narrowed.
"Your aura spiked," she said quietly. "What's wrong?"
Even his emotions leaked. Even his frustration was something she could sense. S-Rank Hunters had perception abilities that made hiding anything nearly impossible.
"Nothing," Rama said.
"Don't lie to me." She set the spatula down, crossing the kitchen in three steps. Her hand cupped his face, thumb brushing his cheek. "Who do I need to kill?"
She said it so casually. So sweetly. Like she was asking what he wanted for dinner.
"Nobody," Rama insisted. "Just forum trolls. It's fine."
"Show me."
"Sekar—"
"Show. Me."
He handed her the phone.
Her expression didn't change as she read. Didn't flicker. Didn't shift. But the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees, and Rama felt her aura—that overwhelming S-Rank pressure—leak out like poison gas.
The windows rattled slightly. The lights flickered.
"I see," she said softly.
She handed back his phone, returned to the stove, and continued cooking as if nothing happened.
But Rama knew better.
Somewhere in Jakarta, three people had just made a terrible mistake. By tonight, their accounts would be deleted. By tomorrow, they'd probably lose their jobs. By next week, if they were Hunters, they'd find themselves blacklisted from every major guild in Indonesia.
Sekar Aditya didn't tolerate disrespect. Especially not toward her husband.
"Breakfast is ready," she announced, plating the food with practiced grace.
They ate in comfortable silence. Or rather, Rama ate while trying not to think about the forum posts. About the truth in them.
He was weak. He was useless in raids. He was the S-Rank's worthless husband.
Every word they wrote was accurate.
"I have a meeting at noon," Sekar said, breaking the silence. "Guild business. High-rank gate discussion with the Jakarta Hunter Association. I should be home by eight."
"Okay."
"You'll be safe?" Her eyes locked onto his. "You won't do anything dangerous?"
"I'm going to the market, Sekar. The most dangerous thing there is overpriced mangoes."
She didn't laugh. "Promise me."
The weight in those two words was suffocating. This wasn't a request. This was a command wrapped in concern, backed by the kind of power that could level city blocks.
"I promise," Rama said.
Only then did she relax. She stood, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Good. I'll see you tonight, darling. I love you."
"Love you too."
She left in a swirl of expensive perfume and lingering threat, her guild coat materializing around her shoulders as she headed for the door. The emblem of Eternal Bond—two hands clasped together surrounded by chains—glinted gold on the back.
Rama sat alone in their penthouse apartment—paid for entirely by her money—and stared at his reflection in the black screen of his phone.
Twenty-two years old. Reasonably fit. Not bad-looking. Completely, utterly powerless.
He pulled up his Hunter status. The official one. The one registered with the government.
[HUNTER STATUS - JAKARTA BRANCH]
Name: Rama Kusuma
Age: 22
Rank: E
Class: Tank
Guild: Eternal Bond (Affiliate Member)
STATS:
Strength: 12
Agility: 8
Vitality: 47
Intelligence: 10
Mana: 15
Skills:
[Taunt - Rank F]
[Iron Skin - Rank E]
[Last Stand - Rank E]
The numbers mocked him. His only decent stat was Vitality—HP pool. Perfect for a punching bag. His Strength was pathetic. His Agility worse. His skills were the bare minimum for a Tank-class awakener.
Every other stat was what you'd expect from someone who awakened and got the absolute worst possible outcome.
Rama closed the status window and stood.
The market could wait.
He had something else to do first.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER - JAKARTA HUNTER'S DISTRICT
The Hunter's District was alive even at this early hour. Guilds occupied massive buildings that towered over the old city infrastructure. Digital billboards advertised dungeon clearing services, potion shops, and recruitment drives.
Rama walked through it all, invisible.
Nobody looked at E-Ranks. Especially not E-Rank Tanks.
He reached his destination: The Iron Gate—a mid-tier guild hall that occasionally hired freelancers for low-level raids.
"Kusuma!" The raid leader, a C-Rank warrior named Darma, grinned when Rama approached. "Didn't think you'd show up. Your wife finally let you out of the house?"
The other Hunters laughed. Five of them, all C-Rank or higher. All looking at Rama like he was a charity case.
"I'm here," Rama said flatly. "What's the job?"
"D-Rank gate. Goblin nest. Easy money." Darma clapped him on the shoulder. "We just need a Tank to soak up hits while we do the real work. You're perfect for it."
A meat shield. That's all he was to them.
"Payment?" Rama asked.
"Split six ways. Should be about 200,000 rupiah for you."
Pocket change. A single D-Rank gate core sold for millions. But E-Ranks didn't get cores. They got scraps.
"Fine," Rama said.
"Great! Let's move out."
The gate stood in an abandoned warehouse district in East Jakarta. A shimmering purple portal, six meters tall, pulsing with energy.
D-Rank. Officially "safe" for C-Rank parties.
For an E-Rank, it was suicide.
But Rama had done this before. Dozens of times. He'd survive. He always did.
They entered.
The moment they crossed the threshold, the world changed. The warehouse vanished, replaced by a dark cavern that stank of rot and blood. Torches flickered along stone walls. Somewhere in the distance, goblins chittered and shrieked.
"Standard formation," Darma ordered. "Kusuma up front. Soak the damage. Everyone else, DPS and support."
Rama moved to the front, summoning his shield—a battered piece of metal that materialized from his inventory. His armor was barely better, leather and iron plates that had seen too many fights.
The goblins came fast.
Small, green, vicious. Armed with rusty knives and crude spears.
Rama activated [Taunt].
The skill pulsed out, drawing aggro. Every goblin's eyes locked onto him, hatred burning in their yellow pupils.
They charged.
Rama braced himself.
The first goblin's knife slammed into his shield. The impact rattled his arm. The second goblin went low, blade scoring across his thigh. The third jumped, aiming for his face.
He blocked. Deflected. Absorbed.
Behind him, the real Hunters unleashed hell.
Fireballs. Ice spears. Arrows wreathed in mana. The goblins died screaming, and Rama stood there, bleeding, his job complete.
"Good job, meat shield!" someone called out.
They pushed deeper.
More goblins. Then goblin warriors. Then a hobgoblin mini-boss that nearly caved in Rama's ribs before the party burned it down.
Rama's HP dropped to 30%. Then 20%. The healing potions he'd bought with his own money kept him alive.
Nobody else wasted potions on the Tank.
Finally, they reached the boss chamber.
A Goblin Chief. D-Rank boss. Three meters tall, wielding a spiked club the size of a tree trunk.
"Kusuma, lock it down!" Darma shouted.
Rama charged.
The Chief's club came down like a meteor.
Rama raised his shield.
The impact shattered his shield into fragments, launched him backwards, and slammed him into the cavern wall hard enough to crack stone.
His HP bar plummeted to 5%.
Everything hurt.
Through blurred vision, Rama watched the party destroy the boss without him. Watched them celebrate. Watched them collect the loot.
He lay there, broken, wondering the same thing he wondered every raid.
Why am I even here?
"Kusuma! You alive?"
Rama coughed blood and forced himself to stand.
"Yeah," he rasped. "I'm alive."
"Cool. Here's your cut." Darma tossed him a small pouch. "Good work today, meat shield."
They left through the gate.
Rama followed, limping, bleeding, clutching 200,000 rupiah that wouldn't even cover his medical potions.
He checked his phone.
One message from Sekar: "How's the market, darling? Don't forget the mangoes! ❤️"
Rama stared at it.
Then he laughed.
A bitter, broken sound that echoed in the empty warehouse.
This was his life.
This was all he'd ever be.
Unless…
His eyes drifted back to the gate, now closed, the quest complete.
What if he didn't go home?
What if he tried something impossible?
What if he finally stopped being weak?
Rama Kusuma made a decision.
And it would change everything.