My name's Kazuki Ryuo.
I'm 5,213 years old.
Well… in there, I was.
Here? I'm just 18. No family. No friends. Just me.
Three years ago, the sky turned black. I'm not being poetic—it literally cracked. Like glass. Then came the portals—blue, shimmering, beautiful if you didn't know what was coming.
We thought it was a dream. A nightmare at worst.
Until monsters started pouring out. Ogres the size of trucks. Two-headed wolves that moved like shadows. And a giant bird—a male—carrying two massive eggs. They weren't his.
And while the world screamed, a portal opened behind me. No warning. No light. Just a pull—and I was gone.
Sucked into the Abyss.
That's where my hell began.
No guidance. No tutorial. Just a voice and a screen telling me I had one skill: Doppel.
Stats? Trash.
Equipment? None.
Class?
Faceless Monarch.
Sounds impressive, right? Yeah, I thought so too—until the monsters came.
I wasn't chosen. I wasn't blessed. I wasn't even noticed.
So I learned to survive. Every kill, I stole a piece. A face. A skill. A body. Doppel wasn't flashy—it was brutal. I became what I killed, even if it broke me inside.
And I climbed.
For years that felt like centuries, I fought, bled, and became a monster just to return here—to the world that forgot me.
But I'm back now.
And I didn't come empty-handed.
It's just another morning for me.
Day 1 of coming back from hell.
First thing I did? Stole some clothes.
Not proud of it, but come on—my Abyssal armor looked like it belonged to the King of Hell himself. Black plate, glowing veins, a cape made from shadows and bone? Yeah, not exactly subtle. I needed to blend in, not announce my return like a final boss.
So now I'm in a baggy hoodie, old jeans, and sneakers one size too small. I look normal. I feel... not.
The sun stings. The wind feels fake. The ground doesn't rumble beneath my feet. It's too quiet. Too peaceful.
Five minutes into my walk through the city I once called home—
A scream.
High-pitched. Real. Terrified.
I stop dead in my tracks.
It's been 5,213 years since I last heard a human scream. Not a monster's roar. Not my own.
A human scream.
My heart doesn't skip. It pounds.
I follow the sound without thinking. Not because I'm a hero. Not because I care. But because after centuries of fighting, running, and killing—I don't hesitate anymore.
And deep inside, something in me is... excited.
Because even if I made it back, this world might still need someone like me.
I round the corner.
Blue light flickers—unstable, wild. A Gate. Open. Pulsing.
And stumbling out of it?
A hulking C-Rank Armored Goblin, dragging a rusted cleaver and drooling like a rabid dog. Its armor's patchwork—bones, metal scraps, maybe even a license plate. But it's fast, and it's hungry.
Pinned against a wall is a girl. Teenager. Torn uniform. Blood on her shoulder. Wide eyes, frozen in terror. Beautiful, even in the chaos.
The goblin raises its cleaver.
I don't think.
I move.
CRACK!
My foot slams into the side of its ugly face. Armor or not, it goes flying like a trash can lid in a hurricane.
"Ugly piece of shit," I mutter, brushing dust off my jeans.
The goblin groans, half-buried in a vending machine. Still alive—for now.
I turn to the girl. "Hey. You okay?"
She's shaking, clutching her side, cheeks flushed—whether from fear or embarrassment, I can't tell. Her shirt's ripped across the chest.
"Cover your tiddies," I say, voice flat. "Hurts like hell looking at 'em like that."
She gasps, face going red as she covers herself with both arms.
Then she glares at me like I kicked her instead of the goblin.
"What?" I raise a brow, smirking. "I saved your life. Least you can do is forgive my blunt delivery."
The goblin stirs behind me.
"Oh right," I say, cracking my knuckles. "Let me finish trash day real quick."
The goblin, its face mangled by my kick, struggles to get back on its feet, growling low. It's not done yet, but it won't be able to do much for long.
I glance back at the girl. She's still clutching her torn shirt, trying to cover herself, and I can't help but roll my eyes.
"Cover your tiddies," I say without missing a beat. "It's not like I need the extra distraction right now."
She glares at me, probably wishing she hadn't been saved by a freak like me. Fine by me. I wasn't here for gratitude.
The goblin lets out a warbled scream, swinging its cleaver wildly. It's not a real threat, but I guess it thinks it is.
"Yeah, about that," I mutter under my breath. "Thanks to Arcane Vault, I can store just about every spell I come across. No need to memorize books, scrolls, or those cheesy magic apps. Just a mental library that's always open. It's tough being a genius, right?"
I flick my fingers, and the air around me shimmers, as if something ancient is stirring deep within. Arcane Vault hums in my mind, pulling up hundreds of techniques in an instant. This one—Inferno Cannon—I've burned into my soul. A bad-ass skill I'm itching to use.
The goblin charges.
"Alright, time to give you a proper send-off," I mutter.
I extend my palm, and my body ripples with heat. A massive ball of fire forms in my hand, swirling, crackling with red and black flames. I feel the weight of the attack like a power I've always known—Inferno Cannon.
"Scorch, Shatter, Incinerate…" I mutter as the flames begin to swirl faster, building strength. "Just one cannon should be enough for this trash."
The goblin tries to swing its cleaver one last time, but I don't give it the chance.
"Inferno Cannon!"
A massive burst of flame erupts from my hand, tearing through the air like a dragon's breath. The blast is focused, a single concentrated burst of pure destruction. It slams into the goblin, the force of the blast so intense that it vaporizes the monster in an instant, leaving nothing but ash.
I lower my hand slowly, watching the smoke swirl. It's over. The goblin's done.
I turn to the girl, who's now wide-eyed, mouth slightly open.
"See?" I say with a smirk, dusting off my hands like I just took out a fly. "That's Arcane Vault for you. It's a living grimoire fused to my soul. So I can memorize all the skills I want. Pretty sweet, huh?"
I let her stare at me for a few more seconds before I glance at the horizon, where another gate is flickering. "Anyway, good luck, kid. You might wanna get out of here before the next thing comes through."
I turn away without waiting for a response, already moving toward the chaos.