Chapter 4: Starter
"Hoohoo~"
The air in the strength-testing chamber was thick with dust and smoke. Cracks splintered across the reinforced floor tiles, as though an earthquake had shaken the foundations of the Asura Guild.
Michael Willson stood at the center, fists still trembling faintly, breath even and steady.
Before him, the red "advanced" puppet lay in ruins. Its alloy body was crumpled like cheap tin, its combat core shattered into glittering fragments. The faint glow of the spirit stones inside flickered once… then died, leaving only silence.
Michael brushed a bit of plaster off his shoulder and muttered, almost disappointed,
> "Can't even take three punches… and they called you advanced?"
For a moment, he simply stood there, chest rising and falling in calm rhythm. His knuckles stung pleasantly, a reminder of impact — but there was no real fatigue.
Inside his mind, the system line floated faintly, like a whisper only he could hear:
[Strength Amplification: +1 kg/min]
[Total Strength: 1260 kg]
The numbers ticked upward even now, slow, steady, infinite.
Michael's lips curved into a faint smirk. So this is my reality now.
---
The heavy metal door creaked.
"Crack—!"
The receptionist burst in, already mid-sentence, scolding in a weary tone:
"Hey kid, I told you! You're a support type, but you insisted on—"
His words cut off.
His jaw dropped.
The sight before him — the shattered puppet worth millions, the floor cracked, Michael standing calmly amid the wreckage froze him in place. His clipboard slid from his fingers with a clatter.
"Y-you…" His throat worked, words strangled. "You broke… the advanced puppet?"
Michael blinked, brushing dust from his sleeve.
"Yeah. Sorry about the mess."
"S-sorry?!" The receptionist's eyes bulged. He staggered forward, clutching his head. "That puppet was imported from Kyoto! The Guild President bought it for eight million Ū! Do you have any idea—?!"
Michael's heart skipped. Eight million? For this tin can?
He scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"Uh… we're not gonna talk compensation, right? Because if you're asking me to pay… I don't even have one million, let alone eight."
The receptionist stopped pacing, turned slowly, and stared at Michael as if he'd just asked whether the sun rose in the west.
Then — laughter. A strained, hysterical laugh.
"Pay? Kid, you're insane. Who in Aurion City could casually pay for a Kyoto-grade puppet? Even I couldn't afford a bolt from that thing!"
His expression shifted, fear replaced with something like awe.
"No… this isn't a disaster. This is history." He jabbed a trembling finger toward Michael. "Do you even realize what you've done? An advanced puppet, destroyed by a newly awakened student. You— you're a monster."
Michael tilted his head.
"I prefer 'talented'."
---
Minutes later, in the Guild lobby.
The receptionist shoved papers across the counter, practically vibrating with excitement.
"From this moment on, you're no ordinary applicant. Congratulations, Michael Willson — you're now a Junior Deacon of the Asura Guild!"
"Deacon?" Michael frowned. "That sounds… bureaucratic."
"It means," the receptionist leaned in, voice hushed but reverent, "you receive five million Ū as an entry bonus. And a monthly stipend of one hundred thousand just for breathing."
A notification pinged on Michael's bank card.
[Funds Transferred: +5,000,000 Ū]
Michael's hand twitched. In his past life, slaving away in a 996 job, he wouldn't have seen this much money in twenty years. Yet here it was, filling his account in a heartbeat.
He exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
Five million. Enough to buy potions, scrolls, equipment… but still finite. In this world, resources vanish like water through your fingers.
His eyes narrowed, already scheming.
And if every guild offers this kind of reward to newcomers… why tie myself down to one? Why not collect them all?
He slipped the form he'd filled out earlier off the counter, tucking it away casually into his jacket.
The receptionist didn't notice. He was too busy staring at Michael like a devout believer glimpsing a god.
> This kid… this freak. We awakened an S-level fire mage yesterday, and today, a support-type with raw strength like this? Moonveil Academy… what in the heavens are they feeding their students?!
The receptionist swallowed hard, resolve firming.
No. This isn't just a talent. This is a future pillar of the Guild. I have to report him to the Young Miss immediately.
---
Meanwhile, at the Guild entrance.
A sleek red sports car purred to a stop. The passenger door opened, and a tall young man with sharp eyebrows and an arrogant smirk stepped out.
James Stonefang adjusted his leather gloves, flexing his hands with practiced bravado. His aura rippled faintly — the pressure of an A-rank talent.
"Time to show them what Berserker Power can do."
Inside, a ponytailed receptionist bowed slightly.
"Young Master Stonefang, right this way. We've prepared the training chamber."
Unbeknownst to James, a pair of figures observed him from the second-floor balcony.
Maria Frostheart, clad in a tailored black coat, elegance wrapped around steel. Beside her, her younger cousin Aurelia Frost, still radiant, the air around her faintly shimmering with heat, her awakened Fire Phoenix aura flickering at the edges.
Maria skimmed James's report, lips curling in approval.
> "Physical Warrior. A-rank. Berserker Power. Not bad. With proper training, he could challenge intermediate puppets before the college entrance exams."
Aurelia crossed her arms, her gaze distant.
"He's… adequate."
Maria smirked.
"You didn't used to dismiss him so quickly. Has your standard risen, little cousin?"
Aurelia's eyes clouded for a moment. Michael Willson. His name flickered through her mind like an ember refusing to die.
Before she could answer, Maria's communicator buzzed.
She read the message once, then again. Her usually calm eyes widened.
"The advanced puppet in the strength chamber… has been destroyed."
Aurelia froze.
"Destroyed? That's impossible. Even level ten warriors struggle against it."
Her gaze sharpened, fiery curiosity blazing.
And the one inside right now… is James?
She felt a tug in her chest a rare spark of respect. Could he truly have risen so far already?
For the first time, a smile touched her lips.
"Perhaps I've underestimated him."
---
The two descended swiftly, heels clicking against stone, arriving just as the training chamber doors opened.
Inside, the red puppet lay in pieces, scattered across the floor like a slaughtered beast.
James Stonefang stood at the center, chest puffed, lips curling in smug pride though his eyes betrayed faint confusion, as if even he didn't understand what had happened.
Aurelia stepped forward, her voice soft, almost gracious.
"James Stonefang… I misjudged you. For this, I owe you an apology."
James's heart leapt. Aurelia Frost the proud lady , untouchable Aurelia apologizing to him? The warmth of her words was sweeter than any victory. He opened his mouth, eager to respond—
"Wait!"
The receptionist stumbled forward, waving his arms.
"No! It wasn't him!"
Aurelia's head snapped around. Maria narrowed her eyes.
"Explain."
The receptionist gulped, sweat dripping down his temples.
"Young Miss, the advanced puppet wasn't destroyed by James Stonefang. He only just entered the Guild. It… it was another. A Moonveil Academy student."
The silence was absolute.
Aurelia's pupils contracted, flames flickering in their depths.
"A student… from Moonveil?"
Maria's expression hardened.
"Who?"
James's world tilted. The pride swelling in his chest turned sour, curdling into humiliation. He clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened, his triumph crumbling before it could even take root.
Aurelia was no longer looking at him. Her attention had already shifted elsewhere searching for the unknown figure strong enough to annihilate an advanced puppet.
Her voice, cool and decisive, rang out:
"Find him. Now."
Maria's tone overlapped hers, sharp as a blade:
"Get me his name and his file immediately. Such talent must belong to the Asura Guild."
The receptionist paled, fumbling for the paperwork. His fingers pawed desperately through the stack of forms and froze.
The form was gone.
"Huh…? Where's his information?!"
His whisper was barely audible.
But to James, it was thunder in his ears.
To Aurelia, it was a spark catching flame.
And to Michael, already walking calmly down Aurion's crowded streets with a faint smile on his lips, it was the beginning of something far greater.