The heavy rain washed the grit and grime from the gray, unforgiving streets of the Outer Ring.
Ben, a thin and poorly dressed young man, shivered in the cold, his worn and threadbare jacket offering little protection. He hugged his arms tightly to his chest, the biting wind cutting through him as he stood in the seemingly endless line.
Before him loomed the Tower, a colossal, enigmatic structure that pierced the dark, churning clouds. Its sudden, unexplained appearance had fundamentally altered the world's power dynamics.
"Next!" a guard bellowed, his voice sharp and impatient.
The line shuffled forward, each step a mixture of dread and desperate hope. Ben looked at those around him. They were clad in expensive, insulated jackets and sturdy shoes, their faces resolute and strong. They were ready for the challenge.
Ben, however, was running on empty. He hadn't eaten since yesterday; there had been no money left for breakfast after paying for rent.
"Please," he whispered, a silent prayer aimed at the indifferent heavens. "Give me a Warrior class. Let me be strong like them."
If he could just become a Warrior, he could join a powerful Guild and earn gold. That gold could buy the life-saving medicine his mother desperately needed. She was at home, trapped in a coughing fit, running out of time with every passing hour.
"Next!"
It was his turn.
Ben climbed the cold stone steps and passed through the massive doors into the Tower's great, echoing hall. The air inside was sterile and cold. In the very center, a crystal stone floated, pulsating with a soft, inviting white light.
An examiner, looking utterly bored with the endless procession, stood beside the crystal, a clipboard tucked under his arm.
"Name?" the examiner asked, not even bothering to look up.
"Ben," he replied, his voice barely a murmur.
"Touch the stone. Don't move until the light stops."
Ben nodded, his hand trembling not just from the cold, but from sheer terror. This singular moment would define the rest of his existence. Failure meant a slow, impoverished death for both him and his mother.
He reached out and made contact with the crystal's smooth, icy surface.
Hummmmm.
A low sound filled the hall. The light flared, turning a vivid, almost unnatural green—the color of life, of the forest. Text materialized in the air above his head for everyone to see:
[Name: Ben]
[Potential: High]
[Class: Farmer]
A deafening silence descended upon the hall.
The examiner stared at the text, blinked once, and then erupted into harsh, derisive laughter.
"A Farmer?" he roared, the sound echoing off the high walls. "In the Tower? Kid, are you planning on planting corn for the goblins?"
The people still waiting in line heard the ridicule and joined in, their laughter mocking Ben's shattered dreams.
"Look! He's a gardener!"
"Go home and dig a hole!"
"What a waste."
Ben's face burned with shame, the humiliation a physical weight on his shoulders.
"Is there a mistake?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Can I change it?"
"No," the examiner said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "The System is never wrong. Accept your fate, kid. Now, get out. You're blocking the line."
Ben stumbled back as the green light faded. He turned and walked out of the hall, the sound of the rain outside now mingling with the hot tears running down his face.
He looked at his hands, calloused and rough from years of labor, not the smooth palms of a hero.
"A Farmer," he repeated bitterly to himself.
He kicked a small stone in frustration. The wet dirt gave way, revealing something unusual buried beneath—a strange, black seed that pulsed with a faint, weak light.
Ben picked it up, and a blue informational box materialized in his field of vision:
[Item: Ancient Seed]
[Grade: Unknown]
[Skill Detected: Fast Growth]
[Do you want to plant it?]
Ben stopped and glanced back at the monolithic Tower.
"What is this?" he wondered aloud.
He slipped the seed into his pocket and continued his walk home through the relentless rain.
...
...
The city was starkly divided into two distinct worlds.
Near the epicenter, where the Black Tower stretched toward the heavens, the streets were pristine and brightly lit. Gleaming buildings of glass and steel housed expensive vehicles that glided smoothly on wide, perfect roads. The air was perfumed and smelled of rich, sweet food. This was the domain of the high-ranking Warriors and Mages, a place of safety and light.
As Ben walked further away, the world drastically shifted.
The streetlights dimmed, the roads became cracked and muddy, and the shining skyscrapers gave way to small, broken-down houses made of crumbling brick and old wood.
This was the Outer Ring, the place of the weak.
Ben pulled his soaked jacket tighter around his shoulders. The rain was still falling, cold and hard. The faces of the people he passed were hollowed by exhaustion. They were factory workers, cleaners, and laborers who kept their eyes fixed on the ground as they walked, having long abandoned any hope of climbing the Tower. To them, the Tower was nothing more than a shadow that blocked the sun.
He reached his home, a tiny, single room on the ground floor of a decaying building. He opened the door quietly. The air inside was stale and cold, illuminated only by a weak yellow lamp in the corner.
"Ben?" a frail voice asked from the bed.
Ben froze, then forced a smile as he approached the bed where his mother lay under a thin blanket. Her face was deathly pale, her breathing shallow and ragged.
"Hey, Mom," Ben said softly, taking the chair beside her.
"Did you go to the test?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with a fragile hope. "Did you get a Class?"
Ben looked at her tired, trusting eyes. She had worked herself to the bone her entire life to provide for him, falling sick because she had pushed herself too hard in the brutal winter. She desperately needed expensive medicine to survive.
He couldn't crush her spirit by telling the truth.
"Yes," Ben lied, the word heavy with guilt. "I got a… Support Class. It's rare. I can help the team from behind."
A weak, happy smile spread across her face.
"I knew it," she whispered. "My son is special. You will be a great hero."
She closed her eyes, peace settling over her face as she drifted off to sleep.
Ben stood up, his chest heavy with the weight of his deception. He was no hero; he was a punchline.
He walked to the small, grimy window. Across the street, a large screen on a shop wall was broadcasting the evening news.
[Breaking News: The Golden Guild clears the 10th Floor!]
On the screen, a group of young, beautiful people in shining gold armor waved to the camera, looking like gods with their magic staffs and giant swords.
"The loot was amazing," the Guild leader boasted to the reporter. "We found a rare ring worth ten million."
Ben looked at the screen, then back at his desperately sick mother. Ten million. That money could save her a hundred times over. A fire ignited in his stomach, the heat of pure anger. Why did they have everything? Why was he left with nothing?
His hand instinctively went to his pocket. His fingers brushed against the Ancient Seed. It felt warm now.
"The System said I have a skill," Ben thought. "'Fast Growth'."
He scanned the small room. On the windowsill sat an old, cracked pot containing some dry soil and the remains of last year's dead flower. He pulled out the wilted stem and dug a small hole in the dirt with his finger.
He took out the black seed. It was now pulsing with a faint green light, seemingly alive with potential.
"Let's see what you are," Ben whispered to the seed. He dropped it into the hole, covered it with soil, and poured a small amount of water from a nearby cup onto the pot.
Then, he concentrated, focusing on the ability mentioned in the blue box.
"Skill: Fast Growth."
A strange energy drained from his body, flowing from his core, down his arm, and into his finger, which was still touching the damp soil.
[Skill Activated]
[Energy Consumed: 10 Points]
Suddenly, the dirt moved.
Crack.
A green shoot burst from the earth. It didn't grow; it exploded into existence. In one second, it was an inch tall; in two, a foot.It was no ordinary plant. The stem was thick and dark green, covered in sharp, menacing thorns. The leaves were the color of fresh blood. A large bud formed at the top and instantly burst open.
Ben stumbled back in shock. It wasn't a flower. It was a mouth, lined with jagged, white teeth. The plant hissed like a snake and turned its "head" toward Ben. It didn't look like a vegetable; it looked like a predator.
A new blue box appeared:
[Name: Man-Eater Plant (Baby)]
[Status: Hungry]
[Loyalty: Low]
[Demand: Feed me.]
Ben stared at the plant, which snapped its teeth at him—Snap. Snap. It was dangerous, a literal monster growing in his mother's flower pot.
But for the first time all day, Ben didn't feel weak. He looked at the monster plant, and a crazy, desperate idea took root in his mind.
He smiled, a dark glint in his eyes.
"You are hungry?" Ben asked the plant. "Good. So am I."
The true work was about to begin.