After humans first unlocked the mysteries of essence and created the technique to wield it, they soon stumbled upon another roadblock; not everyone could use those techniques.
Only a select few were capable of drawing essence into their bodies, and even among them, some possessed a stronger connection than others.
This innate difference became known as Talent; a unique trait that determined how efficiently one could absorb essence.
With time, as humanity delved deeper into the study of essence, the term evolved into Cultivation Talent, especially after the discovery of rarer forms known as Special Talents.
To quantify them, talents be it cultivation or special, were ranked from G at the lowest to SSS at the peak; a hierarchy that dictated one's potential and future in the martial world.
There was also the Rankless category for special talents.
It was lower than G-rank, yet far rarer.
Anyone could randomly awaken a talent after they turned sixteen; there was no fixed rule or method to predict when it would happen.
Yet, despite centuries of research, there remained no known way to increase the chances of awakening except, being born into one of the prestigious martial clans, where heritage and bloodline often seemed to bend the odds.
Standing before the mirror of his cramped one-room apartment, his reflection stared back at him, showing the faint traces of frustration on his expression.
"I was in way over my head, thinking I could go far with a G-rank cultivation talent."
He let out a dry laugh and shook his head.
The new memories had given him a different perspective on the choices he had made so far.
A weary sigh soon escaped his lips as his expression softened.
And in the next instant, a faint shimmer of light flickered before his eyes.
A translucent blue panel materializing before him.
╭───────────╮
〖Name: Adam〗
〖Rank: None〗
〖Cultivation Talent: G〗
〖Special Talent: Equip〗
〖SLOT〗
↳ BODY (5): Empty
╰───────────╯
This was the panel Adam received after awakening his special talent.
Yes, he had awakened a special talent as well, but it wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he imagined one.
"At least it helps keep track of my growth," Adam murmured, scanning each detail.
Adam focused on his Rank first.
"Six months of training, and my rank didn't increase at all," Adam muttered, a faint trace of understanding flickering in his eyes.
Before receiving those new memories, Adam had been filled with ambition from the day he awakened.
Awakening not only a Cultivation Talent but also a Special Talent was something many could only dream of.
Convinced that destiny had finally smiled upon him, he poured everything he had into chasing that dream.
$15,000.
This was two years of his savings, plus a risky loan.
And all of it was spent on a standard Essence absorption technique, a dirty bronze grade knife and a yellow grade martial technique.
It was a reckless decision, but an understandable one.
For him, becoming a martial artist wasn't just about status or power.
It was about killing those damn monsters that had taken everything from him.
But reality didn't bend to passion.
Without the proper resources or talent, even the best techniques were useless.
The meager money he had set aside for necessities began to dwindle, and the weight of the accumulating loan interest crushed what little hope he had left.
So, In a desperate gamble, he entered an unranked Level 1 Rift and the outcome was inevitable.
He'd been injured by a poisonous monster, and though he managed to escape, the toxin quickly spread through his body, knocking him out cold.
Due to the abysmal state of his wallet, the only thing he could do then was hope his body would recover naturally.
Although it did, there was nothing natural about it.
Now that Adam thought about it, his life was nothing short of pitiful, from beginning to where it was now.
Nearly dying to the very creatures you despised so much.
His reflection stared back at him with quiet disdain.
He didn't quite know how to describe the feeling swelling in his chest, it wasn't pity, but it wasn't indifference either.
He exhaled softly and shook his head.
The fact that he was still alive and had gained new memories in the process, was another matter entirely.
Adam knew he wouldn't figure anything out by overthinking it; he'd only end up giving himself a headache.
Pushing the thought aside for later, Adam turned his attention back to the faint blue panel still hovering before him.
His gaze lingered on the line that read.
[Special Talent: Equip].
After a few seconds of focus, a small text box materialized beneath it.
[Equip: Allows the bearer to equip any item].
The description was so bland it almost felt like an insult.
But the real disappointment came from what it actually did.
"In all honesty, not awakening a special talent would've made no difference."
The Equip talent was true to its name, it did nothing more than let him equip items.
A sword, a dagger, a piece of armor… anything that could be worn or held could be "equipped" through it.
But there was no real advantage to doing so. Whether he used [Equip] or just picked the weapon up with his hand, the result was the same.
Well, almost.
There was one difference.
When Adam used the Equip talent, the item became stuck to his body, as if fused by invisible threads, and couldn't be dropped or removed unless he consciously unequipped it.
The only real restriction was that he could only equip up to five items at once.
"What's the point of never dropping a weapon if you're not even strong enough to swing it properly?"
The idea was mind-boggling.
The new memories made him realize just how naïve he had been.
He rubbed his temple in frustration, as his gaze suddenly darkened.
He wasn't optimistic.
He knew how brutal this world was, and the new memories only made it clearer, it was a place where talent dictated everything. Without anything special about him, survival was nothing more than wishful thinking.
Hard work, dedication and determination, were all meaningless in the face of overwhelming power.
And even if he wanted to live quietly, that path was already sealed.
The debt hanging over his head would crush him long before old age ever could.
Before he could spiral deeper into his grim thoughts, however.
Ding!
A crisp notification tone echoed in his mind, and a new line of text blinked into existence on his panel.