The sound of cicadas filled the summer air outside the windows. Inside the classroom, the hum of voices overlapped—students joking, gossiping, arguing over notes. Sunlight poured lazily across desks, painting the rows with golden warmth.
For most, it was just another day of youth.
For Daichi Kurogane, it was another day of being invisible.
He sat near the back, his gaze drifting beyond the glass to the sky outside. His classmates laughed without him, his name rarely on anyone's lips unless they needed something. A pencil to borrow, an answer to a test question, an errand.
Forgettable. Replaceable.
That was who he was.
Still… some small part of him longed, just once, to be chosen.
---
The world shifted.
At first, it was a tremor—so subtle he thought it was just his imagination. Then the floor shook harder. Students gasped, grabbing desks.
"E-earthquake!?"
"Under the tables, quick—!"
But Daichi knew this was no earthquake.
Golden light seeped from the cracks between the tiles, swirling upward in twisting, intricate runes. The air roared, pulling like a vacuum.
"What the hell is this!?"
"Wait—it's magic! This is like—"
Before anyone could finish, the entire classroom drowned in light.
---
When the glare receded, the world had changed.
The students stood not in their school but in a vast hall of marble and crystal.
Colossal pillars rose like spears to a golden dome painted with constellations. Mosaics of angels battling demons stretched across the walls. Light cascaded through stained glass windows, filling the chamber with an almost sacred radiance.
At the far end, on a dais, sat a man in regal crimson robes and a golden crown—King Aldebrand. His posture was heavy with authority, his beard streaked with gray, his stern eyes sweeping over them like a general surveying soldiers.
Knights lined the chamber, armor polished, hands resting on swords.
And then, descending gracefully from above—
An angel.
---
Wings unfurled, scattering motes of silver light. She alighted upon the marble, bare feet silent as snow.
Her beauty struck like lightning.
Hair like moonlight flowed down her back. Sapphire eyes blazed with radiance. A gown of sheer white clung to her body, glowing faintly so that curves and smooth skin were outlined in dangerous clarity. When she moved, the gown shifted, catching the light just enough to make boys flush red.
Gasps filled the chamber.
"She's… gorgeous…"
"An angel… a real angel…"
"She looks like a goddess herself."
The woman smiled, divine and serene.
"Welcome, chosen ones. I am Seraphiel, messenger of the Goddess. You have been summoned to Althreya."
Her voice was music, every syllable dripping warmth. It echoed through the vast chamber like bells from heaven.
---
The king rose, spreading his arms.
"Heroes from another world! Our kingdom trembles before the Demon Lord's armies. We cannot win alone. We begged the Goddess for salvation—and she sent you!"
The students exchanged frantic whispers.
"Demon Lord…?"
"Is this… is this seriously happening?"
"It's just like a video game…"
Excitement spread, drowning fear.
Seraphiel lifted a hand. Radiance spilled, wrapping each student in warmth.
"Fear not. You are blessed with the System. To see it, speak: [Open Status]."
---
Eager voices rang:
"[Open Status]!"
Screens of glowing text bloomed before them.
Gasps followed.
Hiroshi, the class athlete, laughed proudly. "Sword Saint! I knew I was destined for greatness!" His body glowed faintly, the phantom of a blade flickering at his side.
Rina, the honor student and idol, covered her lips in awe. "Archmage…? Truly me…?" Light swirled around her fingers, sparks of arcane flame.
Takeshi, Daichi's childhood friend—once—smirked. "Paladin. Heh. Figures." His body shimmered with a faint golden aura, his confidence swelling.
Others shouted their classes: Spirit Caller, Healer, Ranger. Each title lit faces with joy, purpose.
The king's eyes gleamed. "Splendid. Truly, the Goddess has sent us heroes!"
---
Daichi's breath hitched.
Maybe… just maybe…
He whispered: "[Open Status]."
The screen flared.
Name: Daichi Kurogane
Level: 1
Job: Rotten Soul
Stats: STR 3 / AGI 2 / INT 4 / LUK 1
Skills: None
Traits: Trash, Worthless
His blood froze.
"…Rotten… Soul?"
---
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then laughter erupted.
"Rotten Soul!? What kind of garbage is that!?"
"Hah! Even slimes are stronger than him!"
"The Goddess really hates you, huh?"
Hiroshi sneered, puffing out his chest. "Figures. Trash here, trash there."
Rina's eyes turned cold, her beauty sharpened by cruelty. "Pathetic. I can't believe we were summoned with him."
Even Takeshi smirked. "Always dragging us down, huh? Guess some things never change."
Daichi's chest tightened until he could barely breathe. "N-no, it's wrong—maybe a bug—"
But Seraphiel's voice rang out.
---
"There is no mistake."
Her sapphire eyes gleamed, radiant and merciless.
"The Goddess has judged. Rotten Soul is not a gift—it is a curse."
She glided closer, her perfume of lilies overwhelming, her gown sheer as it caught the light. Her lips curved sweetly, but her words were venom.
"You are unworthy. A blemish among heroes. Trash."
Her whisper brushed his ear, soft as a lover's confession, cruel as a dagger.
Daichi's breath shattered.
The laughter still rang. Some students tried to stifle it, others didn't bother. Hiroshi threw his head back, cackling. Rina covered her smile with delicate fingers, her shoulders trembling with amusement. Even those who once nodded politely to Daichi looked away, as if ashamed to breathe the same air as him.
King Aldebrand's expression hardened. "If the Goddess herself brands him worthless, then he has no place among the chosen. We cannot waste resources on trash."
Seraphiel's radiant smile never faltered. "Indeed, Your Majesty. The Goddess does not err. A Rotten Soul is not merely useless—it is dangerous. Corruption festers in weakness. Best to discard it before it festers further."
Daichi's eyes widened. "W-wait! I can still fight! Give me a chance—"
But his plea was drowned in laughter.
---
Seraphiel glided toward him, her wings trailing light, her gown whispering against the crystal floor. She leaned down, lips brushing his ear as if whispering affection.
"You were born trash. You will die trash. Even the Goddess has no use for you."
Her perfume—sweet lilies—invaded his senses, but beneath it lay rot, a stench only he seemed to notice. Her words carved into his chest deeper than any blade.
"You will perish here, and no one will mourn you."
She straightened, her tone bright, almost cheerful, as she addressed the king. "Cast him into the Abyssal Pit. Let his rotten soul feed the dungeon."
The knights saluted. "As you command."
---
Strong hands seized Daichi's arms. He thrashed, but their grips were iron.
"Let go of me! Don't do this—!"
Hiroshi sneered. "Still whining. Figures."
Takeshi crossed his arms, smirking. "Guess you'll finally stop dragging us down."
Rina turned away, her voice cold. "Disgusting."
Even the few who weren't openly cruel stayed silent. Silence that screamed louder than laughter.
Daichi's heart pounded. His chest felt hollow, like something was being carved out of him.
So this is it. No one… not even one person…
---
At the center of the hall, a circle of black fire roared to life. The floor split, forming a yawning maw of darkness. Screams echoed from within, inhuman and endless. The air reeked of decay, of something far older and crueler than death.
The knights dragged him forward. He dug his heels into the floor, but it was useless. The pit swallowed light, and his reflection twisted in its surface—pale, broken, already half-dead.
"No! Please! I can—"
Seraphiel raised her hand, silencing him.
"The Goddess has spoken. Let him fall."
---
They hurled him.
The floor vanished beneath his feet. Air whipped past him as the pit swallowed him whole.
Above, his classmates leaned over the edge. Hiroshi's laughter boomed. Takeshi's sneer gleamed in the light. Rina's face was cold, beautiful, merciless.
And above them all, Seraphiel.
Her wings spread, her smile radiant, her eyes filled with cruel amusement.
The image seared into Daichi's soul.
---
Darkness consumed him.
His body tumbled, bones cracking against unseen stone. The stench of rot thickened until it filled his lungs. His scream tore from his throat, raw, animal.
Why… why me?
The last thing he heard before the abyss swallowed all sound was laughter.
The laughter of classmates. The laughter of an angel.
And then—silence.