"Walk straight, you bastards..."
"You should be thankful, you little shits."
A heavy iron door loomed ahead, vibrating with tension. The dim corridor echoed with the clank of chains and the growl of the vehicle carrying them. Ten boys marched forward, trembling under the weight of fear. At the front, a scar-faced man grinned, his bloody smile a twisted badge of cruelty.
He was a monster in human skin — rough, vulgar, and dangerous. His presence alone made the boys' stomachs churn, but none dared vomit. The motion beneath their feet was relentless, rumbling like the belly of a beast. They weren't walking on land; they were being transported — to gods knew where.
"Brace for it, shits," the man barked. "That door opens, and either your life gets some goddamn meaning — or you're thrown to the dogs to work like the trash you are."
Alex remained silent, head low, blending in among the trembling crowd. He wasn't trembling — not out of fear, anyway. He was calculating.
It had been five days since he had reincarnated into this world.
And while the others were drowning in panic, Alex was observing. He could see things others couldn't— floating above each person's head were RPG-style tags: names, levels, and roles. A game-like interface, unreal yet vividly real. A virtual world? No... this world was real. Bloody, cruel, terrifyingly real.
Back in his previous life, such a system had never existed. Not in reality — and not in any game he'd ever known. But here, it was baked into the fabric of existence.
From whispers and cruel laughter shared by the guards, Alex had pieced together a few truths.
His old self had been sold — bartered away by his own family, bought, and shipped here like livestock. His destination? The front lines. A forsaken island swarming with monsters, where boys like him were tossed to survive or die.
The organization that ran this world had a simple system: tame monsters, kill threats, and complete assignments. Earn credits. Stay alive. Work like a dog for scraps of freedom.
"A job system... in a world built like hell."
Alex narrowed his eyes as the iron door began to hiss open. Cold, salt-laced air rushed in, carrying the cries of distant beasts and the scent of blood-soaked earth.
Welcome to the Island of Lust. Welcome to the game you never asked to play.
Suddenly, a blast of cold wind howled through the hall. Sharp droplets of rain stung their skin, forcing the boys to cover their faces with trembling hands. Through the gaps in their fingers, they saw the sky split open — a chaotic storm twisting above, hurling down hail and icy rain in furious torrents.
The clouds churned like an angry beast, and in the distance, vague outlines emerged — ship-like structures suspended in the storm, floating across the skies like forgotten titans.
A flicker of realization tugged at Alex's lips — a smile, small but sharp.
They weren't sailing the sea… They were flying.
The trembling under their feet wasn't the roll of waves — it was the unstable drift of some boat-like vessel, suspended mid-air by unknown forces. The platform jerked and tilted slightly, rain cascading sideways through the open gate. Palm-sized hailstones smashed against a glowing dome-like barrier, shattering harmlessly as water poured through.
"A magic shield?" Alex mused, eyes narrowing at the strange glow.
It lets rain through but deflects the impact... Interesting.
As the iron gate clanged open fully, the boys were herded out into the open — onto what looked like a suspended air dock. The wind roared around them, and beyond, chaos ruled.
Below and ahead, a battlefield unfolded — tamed beasts clashed with wild ones, monstrous creatures being subdued by elite tamers. Creatures of all kinds—scaled, winged, clawed, and armored—snarling and shrieking, forced to their knees by magical restraints and glowing seals.
Good timing!" one of the armored officers barked, gesturing toward a lineup of half-defeated beasts. "Go. Pick one. They're weakened — all you need is a strong enough spiritual imprint, and you can tame them. But hurry. The weak hesitate — the smart act."
No one moved.
Fear gripped the group like a noose. Ten boys frozen at the edge of the storm, staring at the monsters that were meant to be their companions — or their killers.
But Alex?
He stepped forward, calm and composed, while the others faltered behind him.
His eyes swept over the line of weakened monsters. Information flowed before his vision like a HUD — names, levels, status, and a faint "tameable" tag on some of them.
"Strongest… but still tameable," he whispered to himself.
A feline monster caught his eye — low to the ground, its body sleek and black as shadow. Despite its limp and faint tremble, Alex saw through the act.
Level: High 2.
But it was resisting — faking weakness, watching. It was smart.
Too smart.
"Not that one," he muttered.
He scanned further — most were Level 1s, barely worth a second glance. Then—
There.
A flying beast — sleek wings, feathered body, talon-tipped limbs.
Level: Mid 2.
Still weakened, but with a tameable tag pulsing faintly.
"That one…" Alex's pupils dilated slightly.
"That's mine."
He stepped forward toward the beast, ignoring the storm and ignoring the stares. Around him, chaos reigned — but within him, clarity surged.
The game had begun. But he wasn't here to play by their rules.
He was here to win.
"That one's mine," Alex said, stepping forward.
The words left his lips with quiet confidence. Behind him, murmurs rose. He ignored them.
As a lifelong Pokémon fan, a thrill ran down his spine. The creature in front of him looked eerily familiar — not identical, but close enough to remind him of a certain avian from the first generation.
He couldn't recall the name… but the resemblance stirred something deep in his memory.
The creature — about 1.3 meters long — lay injured on the ground. Its sleek, dark-brown body shimmered under the stormlight. A feathered crown arched like talons from its head, trembling as it breathed. Once proud and powerful, it was now beaten, humbled by whatever trainer had subdued it earlier.
Its bright eyes flicked up to Alex as he knelt nearby.
Chirp!
A soft, sharp sound escaped its beak — not aggressive, but alert. Maybe even curious.
Alex tilted his head, meeting its gaze.
"I don't know if you understand me," he said softly. "But… we're both in a shitty spot right now. Maybe we can get out of it — together."
Snickers erupted behind him. The other trainees — still frozen in fear — mocked the exchange with ugly grins. But none dared step forward.
Then—
A faint glimmer blinked into existence before Alex's eyes: [TAME].
Without hesitation, he thought the word.
The panel pulsed. A sudden burning sensation seared into his palm as a mystic seal bloomed like wildfire. Threads of mana surged outward, connecting him to the wounded bird. The creature didn't resist.
It had already made its choice.
From his chest, Alex's grimoire burst into existence — ethereal yet solid, floating and glowing with strange glyphs. A page flipped open. The bird's body shimmered, blurred, and then collapsed into a beam of light, which was sucked directly into the grimoire.
[Swift Phalanx—C1, has been tamed.]
[Swift bloodline registered.]
[Grimoire Type: Null-Type.]
[Tamed Partner Affinity with Null-Type: Increased.]
[Wounds Healing in: 1 hour, 0 minutes, 0 seconds.]
Name:None
Species:Swift Phalanx
Type:Wind/Null
Skills:
Aerial Wind Tail – Lv.0 [1/10]
Swift Dive Cleave—Lv. 0 [4/10]
Mana Core:Level 2—Mid
Alex staggered. His breath caught.
A spike of raw mana pierced through his chest like a lightning rod. His knees gave out — he nearly collapsed, but a hand caught him from behind. One of the trainers, expression unreadable, helped steady him.
The pain wasn't injury — it was initiation.
"Heh... You've crossed the threshold," the man said with a rare smile.
"Welcome to the Mana Tier, kid. You're a Tamer now."
The world shifted. The sky still raged above, monsters still howled in the distance — but something inside Alex had changed.
"Haha! See that?" the head instructor barked, his voice booming over the storm.
"A guy your age just did it. What the hell are you all waiting for?"
He sneered at the remaining boys, his scarred face twisted with amusement as he gestured toward Alex, who was now being carried off to the side by one of the support officers.
Alex's body trembled slightly, soaked in sweat, but his eyes...
They were calm — distant — like he was already somewhere far ahead.
From where he lay, he watched the others approach their chosen beasts.
Most of them failed.
Hesitation. Weak will. Lack of spiritual resonance.
Whatever the reason, one after another, the bonds failed to form.
Only two others managed to succeed.
Ten had entered. Three had bonded.
"This is good. This is good..." the instructor muttered, grinning to himself.
"Three out of ten. Not bad at all."
He paced in front of the group, arms folded behind his back like a soldier inspecting new weapons. His gaze swept over the three new Tamers but lingered on Alex for a long moment.
The boy who tamed first. The one who recovered fastest.
Alex sat up slowly, wiping his forehead. His breath had steadied. The pain in his chest had dulled to a quiet throb — a reminder, not a burden.
The instructor narrowed his eyes slightly, as if weighing something in his mind.
"He's recovering too quickly... either he's lucky — or dangerous."
Either way, Alex had already shifted the scale of the group.