The same white ceiling and the bright lights that never seemed to turn off greeted Kyn as he woke from another nap. It had been three days since the Bureau first showed up, three days of this room, this bed, this endless question rattling in his skull.
How am I going to pay for this?
Nervous, he paced from the foot of the bed to the door and back again. He had no money, no parents, and no guardian. He couldn't possibly dump the hospital bill on the orphanage. They barely had enough to keep the roof from falling in. The caretakers don't even eat enough, just so the children can barely have something to feed themselves.
He slumped onto the mattress again, burying himself in the soft sheets. It was the first bed in his life that didn't squeak or smell like mold. A bed he could sink into and pretend he didn't exist. Like the world paused, and there was only him in it.
But even there, his thoughts drifted back to the orphanage. The kids there weren't cruel— just distant. Nobody talked to him unless they had to. Even the caretakers kept it polite and shallow. He had no ill intentions for them, but he had no fondness either. It was a roof over his head, but it wasn't his home.
He never had a home.
"I'm here in warm blankets", he thought bitterly, "While they're sleeping on cardboard."
A sharp stab of guilt dug into his ribs. He clenched his fists against the sheets.
"I have to visit them when I can," he whispered to no one.
The days in that room dragged on. He spent hours prodding at the system — poking it like a dead animal to see what would twitch. The first notice still sat there, blinking:
'Notice: You are a registered Player.'
'Sponsor: !ERROR!'
No name. No blessing. Just blank.
But somehow, someone picked him. Something gave him just enough to rip an A-grade Demon apart. The log confirmed it, the kill dumped a mountain of EXP in his lap. It was large enough to skip twenty levels in one shot.
Only it didn't feel like he'd leveled up. His Inventory stayed locked. Whenever he tapped the rewards, the same message spat him out:
'Level too low.'
He didn't need the old lectures to tell him what that meant. E-Grade. Lowest of the low. He'd heard teachers say it kindly, "You can work your way up from anywhere!", but everyone knew. Starting at E meant crawling through the mud while people like Kris got to fly.
A B-grade awakening like Kris's was good enough to flip a city upside down. And now he'd jumped to SS? It wasn't fair. It never was. While Kris had the entire school on his lap, teachers, students, and staff, Kyn had nothing. He was the outcast, the target of bullying, and the loser.
When, at some point, his father's money wasn't enough. He had to awaken, and even now, he reawakened into someone who's extremely powerful. He currently rivals most of the Players who poured years into fighting Demons. Kris had it easy, so easy that it felt unfair.
"The gods' favorite," Kyn scoffed to himself, tracing his finger along the sunbeam cutting across the window. "And I'm the gods' scrap."
The thought made him laugh— a hollow, ugly sound that stuck in his throat.
"If they can do it… so can I," he whispered. His reflection in the window didn't look convinced.
"That's the spirit."
The voice nearly killed him on the spot. He jolted, nearly launching off the bed, only to find Claire standing there, grinning, her hair loose down her back instead of tied up like before.
"Hey, Claire," Kyn managed, heart punching his ribs. "Didn't hear you come in."
"You were mumbling to yourself," she teased, plopping down beside him like they were old friends. "You look good. Sleep helping?"
Kyn shrugged. Sleep was just another word for waiting.
Claire crossed her legs, pulled a pen from her pocket, and started clicking it on and off.
Click. Click. Click.
She crossed her legs and started a staring contest with Kyn, her dark green eyes locked intently in his own. Her smile never slipped.
"Too wide," Kyn thought. "Too practiced."
"So," she said sweetly. "Captain wants me to keep an eye on you. He's not buying Kris's little hero story."
"What's wrong with his story?"
"A lot, apparently," Claire said, leaning in. The clicking stopped. Her eyes flicked sharply for just a second. "The Demon's Gate opened at 10:18. It attacked the school, the announcement was carried, and the distress signal was received. Everyone was dead by 10:21, just three minutes after it arrived. Then Kris shows up at 10:21 in Mr. Davis's office, standing for a second in front of the door before opening it. The Demon follows him into the office. By 10:23— poof. Dead lion."
She mimed an explosion with her fingers, smirking. The pen started clicking again. For some reason, the sound irked Kyn. It wasn't the constant beeping of the machine, but a rather ragged ticks that was uneven and eerie. He was going to comment about it, but kept his thoughts to himself.
"Then, what's the issue?" Kyn said. "You clearly said that Kris entered the room before the lion, meaning they were at the same place at the same time."
"At the same time, yes, but no. Kris reawakened at 10:27— after the kill. So, B-grade boy walks into a room with an A-class Demon, takes a hit that should've split him in half… and walks out SS-grade?" She gave him a playful shove on the shoulder. "Does that sound right to you, Kyn?"
His mouth went dry. He opened it, then closed it. His pulse jumped. She was too close. Too sharp.
"Maybe it was luck," he croaked. "Maybe he… blocked it."
Claire's laugh was bright and fake. Click click click.
"If you ask me, I think we've got a Demon Slayer on our hands." She leaned back, spinning the pen between her fingers like a toy. "One of those vigilante Players you hear about in the blogs. Shows up, cleans up when the Bureau's too slow. Shadow capes. Cool nicknames. I love it."
She pulled her phone out, flicked through photos, their blurry shapes, half-fake monster corpses, fan theories. Kyn watched her ramble, nodding at the perfect moments while his heart settled. Her brain was sprinting in circles, nowhere near him.
"Manga makes it sound cool, huh?" she giggled. "Ah, anyway, sorry. Rambling. The Captain hates my theories. Says I should stick to my job, not detective work."
She tucked her phone away. In one motion, she popped a small white box from her bag and dumped it in Kyn's lap.
"Speaking of my job — congrats, kid. The Captain wants you as a Probie."
Kyn blinked at the box. "A what?"
"Probie. Lowest rung in the Player Affairs Division. You'll run errands, carry gear, smile for the cameras— you know, Bureau mascot stuff. Don't panic, it's not official recruitment. You can say no," Claire teased. "But if you ask me, he wants to keep a closer eye on you. His intuition is sharp since it is what he used to climb from E-grade to S."
Bob started from E-grade, too.
She popped her pen in her pocket, grinning like they'd just agreed to share lunch. "Inside's your starter kit. Phone, uniform, badge, dorm key, meal card. Just enough to not starve, not enough to run away to the tropics."
Kyn stared at her, mouth half-open. "Claire, I—"
"Keep the card even if you say no, okay? The captain calls it a goodwill thing. You've been through hell. You deserve a soft bed more than the cardboard you have back home."
She ruffled his hair. Kyn froze. Nobody had done that since he was a child. He wasn't sure if he liked it.
Before he could ask why, Claire was already halfway to the door.
"Anyway, think about it. I'll come back tomorrow. Try not to break the ceiling or grow demon wings in the meantime..." Claire opened the door, and just when she was about to close it behind her, she smirked. "Demon Slayer."
She winked. Gone. The door shut behind her with a soft hiss.
Kyn stared at the box in his lap, then at the blank white wall across the room. He pressed his palm over his chest where that voice still coiled — quiet now, but waiting.
"What the hell are they thinking?" he muttered.
No answer. Just the beep of the machine. Same ceiling. Same cracks.