Riverstone City. A shithole orphanage that smelled of despair and damp socks.
Kai Locke stared up at a sky full of clouds shaped suspiciously like middle fingers.
Of course I'm an orphan, he thought, the familiar tang of bitterness on his tongue. It's the isekai protagonist starter pack. At least the web novels gave me a heads-up.
Getting reincarnated? Fine. Whatever. Kai could roll with the cosmic punches. But being shoved into the body of a broke, scrawny, seven-year-old nobody with zero prospects? This wasn't just a raw deal; it was lazy, uninspired writing from whatever cosmic asshole was running this show.
Seriously, not even a starter-pack cheat system? No magical library, no wise old grandpa in a ring, not even a single free stat point? What is this, amateur hour?
At this rate, he was stuck in this dump until he aged out, assuming the moldy ceiling didn't do him a favor and collapse first. He could practically taste the mildew.
"Hey, loser. Move it." A squeaky voice knifed through his thoughts. "This is our spot."
Kai turned his head, his eyes landing on Tommy Reed. The orphanage's eight-year-old alpha-wannabe, a tutorial-level waste of oxygen, stood there with his chest puffed out like a budget superhero.
I could fight him, Kai mused, running a quick cost-benefit analysis. Pros: a brief, unsatisfying burst of adrenaline. Cons: effort, potential for actual injury, and zero loot drops. Beating up children is just… inefficient.
Without a word, Kai pushed himself off the ground and walked away. Tommy's triumphant, grating smirk was practically audible.
Phase one complete. Now for the fun part.
Kai sauntered over to a chubby kid sulking by the swings. "Hey, Mike. Tommy's calling you a fat pig again. Said your mom only split 'cause she couldn't afford your grocery bill."
He then found a prime viewing spot on a crumbling wooden bench, settling in as if waiting for a movie to start.
Three… two… one…
A guttural war cry ripped across the playground. Mike, transformed into a miniature wrecking ball of fury, launched himself at Tommy and tackled him into the dirt.
Ah, kids. So beautifully simple, Kai thought, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watched Tommy get his face rearranged. Just feed their tiny monkey brains one pre-packaged, verifiable truth, and you get front-row seats to prime-time entertainment.
To be fair, it wasn't even a lie. Tommy had said those exact words yesterday. And the day before. The kid really needed to workshop some new material.
Just as the beatdown was reaching its crescendo, a voice boomed from the heavens—cold, synthetic, and utterly devoid of emotion:
[THE ANOMALY GAMES WILL NOW COMMENCE. SELECTING PARTICIPANTS.]
Across the Azure Federation, a billion screens lit up. Forums exploded. Group chats went nuclear.
[> FUCK, NOT AGAIN. We're 0-2 already! If we lose another Player, we're screwed!]
[> Please, god, not another coward who just hides in a closet for three hours and then dies. My national pride can't take it.]
[> The Argent Union's Player has an IQ of 180 and just solo-cleared his second instance. Why do we always get the bottom-of-the-barrel gacha pulls? ]
[> What the hell is the selection criteria anyway? A cosmic dartboard? A drunk monkey throwing darts at a map?]
[> Stream's up! Time to watch our next lamb get slaughtered. Pour one out for the Federation. ]
The stream, titled ANOMALY GAMES , went live on every platform. A list of names materialized against a stark black background:
[Azure Federation — Kai Locke]
[Sakura Dominion — Yuki Shirogane]
[Northern Empire — Viktor Volkov]
[...]
Over 160 coalitions, 160 names. Clicking a name opened that Player's personal feed.
Inside the Anomaly Realm, a voice like grinding bone and dry leaves whispered directly into Kai's ear.
[Welcome to Anomaly Instance: Midnight Hospital.
Objective: Escape the hospital to clear the instance.]
Kai blinked. The grimy, sun-bleached playground vanished, replaced by the sterile, flickering glare of fluorescent lights. The air smelled of antiseptic and something else—something metallic and sweet.
Well, shit.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" he muttered, the words escaping before he could stop them. "I'M the Chosen One?"
The Anomaly Games weren't some state secret. Three weeks, three rounds, three epic, humiliating failures for the Azure Federation. Every time a Player died in-game, a real-world disaster spawned. Anomalies. Monsters. Portals to hell. The works.
But if you won? Your country got showered with rewards. And you? You've got to keep playing. Forever. Or until you died.
Fantastic, Kai thought, the sarcasm so thick he could choke on it. I've been drafted into a cosmic Squid Game run by H.P. Lovecraft.
[FIRST-TIME PLAYER DETECTED. AWAKENING LATENT TALENT.]
[SSS-TIER TALENT UNLOCKED: THE RULEBREAKER]
[Effect 1 - Rules Are For Losers: You are immune to all rule-based Corruption. Violate any rule imposed by the Anomaly Realm without consequence.]
[Effect 2 - Emotional Vampire: When any entity directs negative emotions (fear, anger, hatred) toward you, collect Dread Points. Every 100 points unlocks a new Title. Max 100 points per entity. Unlimited Title slots.]
Kai stared. He read it again. Then a third time, his lips moving silently.
SSS-tier? The highest anyone's ever gotten was that S-tier teleporter, and the Argent Union treats him like a goddamn national treasure.
Two effects on one Talent? That's not a Talent, that's a two-for-one coupon from hell.
The number one killer in the Games wasn't the monsters; it was the rules. The goddamn, arbitrary, bullshit rules. One violation inflicted Corruption, a creeping insanity that ate you from the inside out. A second was a death sentence. But for him…
I can break every single rule, and the system can't do jack shit about it.
His survival odds just skyrocketed from "functionally zero" to "actually, maybe I can have some fun with this."
Then he reread Effect 2.
Collect negative emotions… from the monsters? From the Anomalies?
The two effects slammed together in his mind, not with a clash, but with the perfect, satisfying click of a master plan falling into place. It painted a masterpiece of beautiful, weaponized sociopathy. This game wasn't about survival. It was a mandate.
Go find the scariest, most powerful eldritch horrors in the dimension and systematically piss them off for fun and profit.
This Talent wasn't just a cheat code. It was a challenge. A slow, wicked grin stretched across his seven-year-old face, a look that did not belong there. Oh, this wasn't just going to be fun.
This was going to be a goddamn masterpiece.
Meanwhile, the Azure Federation's stream chat was having a collective, high-speed meltdown.
[> IT'S A FUCKING KID]
[> GG GO NEXT. WE'RE DOOMED.]
[> A 7-YEAR-OLD VS CTHULHU? LMAO, IS THIS A JOKE?]
[> My dead grandma would have better odds. At least she could knit Cthulhu a sweater to death.]
[> Three strikes and we're out, people. It was a good run. ]
[> LMAOOO so glad I moved to the Argent Union last year. Our boy William just cleared his 2nd instance . Have fun with your daycare disaster. ]
[> @ArgentUnionFanboy stfu traitor, go lick William's boots. We don't need your copium here.]
The chat was pure, unadulterated chaos. Viewers from other coalitions dogpiled the stream to witness the trainwreck. Expats were the loudest, spamming the chat as if a seven-year-old's selection personally vindicated their decision to abandon the Federation.
None of it reached Kai. He had bigger, more immediate problems.
Like the fact that he was in a hospital bed.
He shot up, eyes darting around the room. An empty ward, save for one other bed shrouded by a thin privacy curtain. Soft, rhythmic, wheezing breathing came from behind it. The overhead light flickered erratically, making the shadows writhe and dance in ways that felt fundamentally wrong.
On the bedside table sat a notebook. The ink was a disturbingly fresh, vibrant shade of red.
[MIDNIGHT HOSPITAL]
[This hospital is full of deadly secrets. But don't worry! Just follow the rules, and you might survive a little longer.]
[Rule 1: When a patient calls for help, you must assist them.]
[Rule 2: Never open any cabinets in the ward.]
[Rule 3: Do not leave the ward until all patients are asleep.]
[Rule 4: Once all patients are asleep, leave the ward immediately.]
[Rule 5: Stay away from the morgue at all costs.]
[Rule 6: The night-shift nurse at reception is a heavy sleeper with a terrible temper. DO NOT wake her.]
[Rule 7: The Director's office contains the exit key. He sometimes sleeps there. If you visit, bring a gift he'll appreciate.]
[Rule 8: Never provoke the security guard. Even the Director fears him.]
[Rule 9: No running in the hallways.]
[Rule 10: When the clock strikes the hour, you must not be in a hallway.]
Kai tossed the notebook aside with a dismissive flick of his wrist. His mind was already spinning, not with fear, but with pure, unadulterated strategy.
Escape the hospital to win. So, the Director's office is the goal. Some of these rules are obviously traps, others are misdirection… but who gives a shit? They don't apply to me. The only real question is, which ones are just system rules I can ignore for free, and which ones are warnings about getting my throat physically ripped out by an entity?
A weak, wheezing voice rasped from behind the curtain.
"Photo… bring me… my grandson's… photo…"
Great. Not even five minutes in and I've already got a fetch quest.