The day began like any other for Jae-hyun. High school in Seoul was a routine of noise, boredom, and the faint smell of instant ramen in the cafeteria. His backpack sagged with the weight of textbooks and a tablet where he spent half his life reading webtoons. He knew the schedules like the back of his hand — get up, attend classes, barely survive math, complain about lunch, scroll through memes, survive until the bell. Predictable. Safe. But he'd never imagined something like this would happen.
He slouched in his seat in the back of Room 3-B, earbuds dangling loosely, ignoring Ms. Kim's lecture on some boring historical war he barely remembered the name of. His classmates leaned forward in their seats, scribbling notes with serious expressions — or staring into the window. Jae-hyun, however, stared at his tablet screen, laughing softly at a ridiculous comic panel. He smirked. "Man… these heroes are so predictable. Always 'Chosen One.' Always dramatic speeches. Yawn."
He tapped his earbud out and glanced at the clock. Two minutes until third period ended. He sighed. Another day. Another yawning day. And then, as though the universe had decided to rip the script out of his hands, the air shifted.
It happened suddenly. A ripple. Like heat haze, but sharper. The light in the classroom began to distort — the white fluorescent lights warping, the chalkboard shimmering. Students blinked. Murmurs rose. Somewhere in his brain a comic trope alarm went off. "Okay… definitely not normal."
Then the light exploded.
Not like a sparkler. Not like a flashbulb. This was a deep, golden brilliance that filled the entire room. It wasn't sunlight. It was warmer, alive. The walls seemed to dissolve in light. There was no sound except for a hum — low and deep — like an organ note from the depths of the world. Every breath felt heavier. His ears popped.
And then she appeared.
A goddess.
Not a trick of light, not a hallucination. A real goddess. She stepped through the shimmering air like she had walked out of a dream. She was breathtaking — silver hair flowing in slow waves that seemed to glimmer with their own light, skin glowing like polished pearl, eyes so deep they seemed to pull him in. Her robe shimmered with an ethereal glow, draped perfectly over her divine form. She smiled — but not kindly. More like… knowing something no one else did.
Every student froze, eyes wide. Even Ms. Kim, mid-sentence, stopped speaking mid-word. Phones clicked open. Someone whispered. Is this a dream? A VR thing?
Jae-hyun blinked. He swallowed. His heart beat like a drum. This was absurd. This was insane. But he knew… instinctively… that this was real.
Her voice rang out. Deep, melodic, and unshakably powerful. "You have been chosen."
The words rolled over the room like thunder. The hum grew louder.
"All of you will be granted a skill," she continued. "And be brought to a world in need of heroes."
A ripple of excitement went through the room. Jae-hyun noticed his classmates stiffen with awe. Phones were pulled out. Whispers turned to murmured cheers. Students began looking at each other with wide-eyed anticipation. Skills. Heroes. New world. This was… something out of a webtoon.
Wait. That's exactly what I read last week. Holy crap this is insane.
The goddess raised her hands. A radiant light poured from her palms. It fell over the students. One by one, the air around them shimmered and glowed. Magic crackled softly. For each student, a unique aura blossomed. Skills appeared. Stat panels hovered beside them — glowing numbers and skill names floating like fantasy displays. Jae-hyun saw classmates flexing powers already, laughing or gasping in awe. A fire mage raised a blazing hand. Another student summoned glowing arrows midair. Someone else grinned as shimmering wings sprouted from their back.
And Jae-hyun? He was leaning forward to sneeze.
A tiny "Ah-choo!" escaped. He froze. It was pathetic. A simple, innocent sneeze. But in that moment… the goddess's eyes narrowed. Her entire aura shifted. She tilted her head. "You… sneeze?" Her voice was sharp now. Annoyance laced her tone.
Jae-hyun blinked. "Uh… yeah? Sorry?" He coughed awkwardly, wiping his nose. "Allergies?"
She exhaled like a sigh that echoed across dimensions. "Of course. You are the one to sneeze at such a critical moment."
A flicker of golden light passed her fingertips. A spark of light shot toward him. His classmates barely noticed — they were too busy staring at their own glowing stat panels. But Jae-hyun felt something odd. Weak. Strange. A strange coldness rolled over him. His chest tightened.
Suddenly, a neat stat panel appeared in front of him, floating in midair:
Name: Jae-hyun
HP: 100
Mana: 50
Strength: 10
Agility: 12
Luck: 0.1
Skill: Minor Copy (F Rank)
Description: Ability to copy any skill within level range for 24 hours. Efficiency: 15%. Skill storage available.
He blinked at it. Luck? 0.1? That sounded like a joke. Beneath it, the skill note glimmered faintly. His classmates looked over. They smirked, some giggling. Their auras burned brighter. Their stats screamed power. They looked like chosen heroes. And he… looked like a joke.
The goddess shook her head. "Take him away."
And before Jae-hyun could ask what the hell was happening, the world tilted, twisted, and exploded in light.
He woke up lying face-first in dirt.
He coughed. His throat was dry. His clothes were torn, his uniform ripped in places. His backpack gone. His tablet gone. His room gone. His classroom gone. Gone were the sounds of chatter and the smell of ramen. Instead, there was silence. Thick, living silence. His ears rang faintly.
Where was he?
He rolled over slowly, wincing. His knees dug into hard dirt. His body felt heavy. He sat up. Around him stretched open fields, distant forests with trees that pulsed faintly, and mountains painted with strange hues unlike anything in Seoul. The air smelled earthy, alive. Somewhere far away, a howl echoed — low and bone-chilling. It was not human. Not entirely beast.
He staggered to his feet, brushing dirt from his torn uniform. His body ached. Hunger gnawed at him. His stomach growled loud enough to embarrass him.
"This is… a joke, right?" he muttered aloud. "Some kind of weird dream? I'm gonna wake up and it'll be Tuesday morning again. Yeah… definitely Tuesday morning." He looked down at himself, then around the endless expanse.
"Nope. Not Tuesday."
Another neat stat panel appeared before him:
Name: Jae-hyun
HP: 100
Mana: 50
Strength: 10
Agility: 12
Luck: 0.1
Skill: Minor Copy (F Rank)
Description: Ability to copy any skill within level range for 24 hours. Efficiency: 15%. Skill storage available.
He stared at it. Blinked. Laughed nervously. "Minor Copy… F Rank. Yeah. This is garbage." He kicked at a clump of dirt. "Gods hate me. My life is officially a sad comic. Awesome."
A rustle in the bushes pulled his attention. His stomach clenched. His brain screamed "Run!" but curiosity won. Slowly, he stepped forward. From the trees emerged a beast unlike anything from his world — a Razor Wolf. Sleek black fur shimmering with unnatural light, claws sharper than steel, eyes glowing crimson.
Oh crap. This is real. I'm dead. I'm dead. This is how I die. In a forest eating contest against a glowing wolf.
He froze, his mind racing. "Okay… okay… breathe… don't panic… don't panic… I'm the main character, right? In every webtoon, the main character always survives the first monster attack… but do I even have a skill worth anything?"
He glanced at the panel again:
Name: Jae-hyun
HP: 100
Mana: 50
Strength: 10
Agility: 12
Luck: 0.1
Skill: Minor Copy (F Rank)
Description: Ability to copy any skill within level range for 24 hours. Efficiency: 15%. Skill storage available.
That still looks sad.
The wolf crouched. Its breath steamed. Its teeth glistened. The air vibrated. And then it charged.
Jae-hyun panicked. He activated Minor Copy. Words flashed briefly in his mind: Razor Charge. His hand tingled, light shimmered faintly over it. His body moved on instinct. He rolled sideways. The wolf slammed into the ground where he had been standing. Dirt exploded around him.
He coughed, staggering upright. His stat panel shimmered faintly.
Skill stored — 23 hours remaining.
He blinked. "Wait… what? That worked?" He staggered backwards, breathing hard. His heart beat like mad. His mind buzzed with confusion and—against all odds—a tiny spark of excitement. "So… maybe… this isn't useless?"
A deeper growl echoed from the forest. His stomach knotted. Somewhere in the distance, mountains rose like jagged teeth. Somewhere out there, his classmates were fighting for glory. Somewhere… Goddess Elyra was still watching, annoyed and amused.
He clenched his fists. "Alright… if I'm going to survive in this world, I'll have to make this useless skill work. Even if it kills me."
And so began his path.
The path of the so-called weakest hero in history.