Chapter 2: Trials of the Trash King
The next morning, the Trial Forest buzzed with excitement. Word of Arin's exploits with the wolves had already spread among the other students, though most still believed it was beginner's luck.
"Seriously, a Scavenger?" scoffed Kael, a hulking warrior with a gleaming sword strapped to his back. "I've trained my whole life for the Trial Forest, and some kid picks up scraps and beats wolves? Hah. I'll show him what real strength is."
Arin didn't respond. He only adjusted the straps on his backpack, which was already packed with pieces of broken gear he had scavenged the night before. Each item seemed to hum with energy now, responding to him in ways he didn't fully understand.
The Trial Master, a towering figure clad in golden armor, blew a loud horn. "Today, each student faces a dungeon challenge. Survive. Adapt. Succeed. Your performance will determine your rank among the new generation of heroes."
The first dungeon was small, meant to test basic combat and creativity. Most students stormed in, swinging swords and hurling magic, cutting down monsters in flashy displays. Arin took a deep breath and entered carefully, scanning the room.
It was dark. Piles of broken crates, rusty barrels, and scraps littered the floor. Most students would ignore the junk, seeing only obstacles. Arin smiled.
"Potential…"
He began assembling pieces. A cracked shield here, a broken sword there, even fragments of a shattered lamp. With a flick of his wrist, the shards floated, rotating in a protective barrier around him.
Then the dungeon monsters appeared—a swarm of goblins, their claws sharp, eyes glowing red. The other students fought recklessly, some already wounded. Arin stayed calm. He tossed a sharpened plank, which sliced through the lead goblin, then rolled a pile of barrels toward the others. As they exploded in a cloud of dust and debris, the goblins were momentarily blinded.
Arin moved swiftly, combining scraps into improvised traps. A broken mirror reflected sunlight to dazzle the goblins, a cracked pipe sprayed boiling water at those who got too close, and a shattered sword became a spinning, deadly wheel.
When the monsters finally fell, the other students stared in shock. The flashy warriors and mages had struggled, some barely surviving. Arin, the "useless" Scavenger, had cleared the dungeon alone, using nothing but discarded junk and clever thinking.
Kael stepped forward, his face red with anger. "You… you're cheating somehow! There's no way a Scavenger can do this!"
Arin laughed lightly, brushing dust off his hands. "Not cheating. Just… thinking differently. You call it trash, I call it opportunity."
From somewhere deep in the dungeon, the Trial Master's booming voice echoed. "Interesting… very interesting. A Scavenger who adapts and thrives. You may yet surprise us all."
As Arin left the dungeon, he felt a new energy coursing through him. Every item he had used now seemed to bond with him, growing stronger. Even though he was just starting, he could feel the passive skills of his class unlocking.
And somewhere in the shadows, Kael muttered under his breath, "This isn't over… The Trash King? I'll make sure he regrets this."
Arin didn't hear him. He was already thinking ahead—what he could scavenge next, what traps he could prepare, and how he could turn the world's scorn into unlimited potential.
For the first time in his life, he felt unstoppable.
The Trash King had truly begun his rise.