Noen stood up from the dinner table, his chair scraping against the floor. "Now?" he asked, his voice hesitant.
"Yes," the older gentleman replied firmly.
His mother stepped forward, blocking the path slightly. "Now, wait just a minute. Slow down. Can you identify yourselves? And where exactly are you taking my son?"
"My name is Ignaz von Kuhlmann," the man said smoothly. He reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a sleek, heavy business card, and handed it to Noen's mother.
She scrutinized the card, her eyes narrowing as she read the embossed text. "So... you are from Sender Foundry?"
"Exactly," Kuhlmann replied with a practiced nod. "My associates here are Viktorius and Balthazar. We simply wish to take young Noen here to Auralburg, the city a few hours from here. We'll ask him a few questions, and then he's free to come home. We would be happy to drive him back ourselves, but of course, you are more than welcome to pick him up if you prefer."
"Something like this isn't usually handled on such short notice, is it?" his mother asked, her hand tightening on the edge of the door, her concern growing.
"My apologies, but we can't—"
"It's okay, Mom," Noen interrupted, joining them at the door. He looked at the men, his mind racing. "This is probably something from the government because of my system."
His mother turned to him, her face etched with worry as she searched his eyes. "And are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes, Mom," Noen said, trying to sound braver than he felt. He stepped forward and gave her a tight embrace, kissing her on the cheek before pulling away.
The men in black didn't say another word. They stepped back, gesturing toward a sleek, tinted vehicle idling at the curb. Noen followed them out, the cool evening air hitting his face as they escorted him to the car.
A few hours later, they arrived at a massive building, its windows pulsing with vibrant, multicolored lights that cut through the night sky. The car came to a halt, and the men led Noen inside. They stopped in front of a door with a piece of paper taped to it. On it, his name was written in bold letters.
"This is your dressing room. Put on what's inside, and we'll call for you when it's time," Ignaz said.
"I—I can't prepare for this?" Noen asked, his hand pressing down on the door handle.
"You'll be fine," Ignaz said, giving him a quick wink.
Noen stepped inside. "Looks like a school locker room..." he muttered.
"See you later!" Ignaz called out, walking away with Viktorius and Balthazar trailing behind him.
Noen looked around and spotted a suit hanging on a hook. "A red suit with a red tie?" he asked out loud. He turned around, locked the door, and began to change. Standing in front of the mirror, he frowned. "This looks... weird. And the size isn't even right," he said, tugging at the slightly oversized sleeves. He sat down on a bench and started scrolling through his phone to kill the time.
Three hours later, a sharp knock hit the door. "You're on, Noen! Come out!" Viktorius called.
"Finally!" Noen thought. He opened the door and followed Viktorius through several dark, winding corridors until they reached the mouth of a tunnel. At the far end, he could see the brilliant lights he had seen from the outside. The sound of a roaring audience—clapping and laughter—washed over him.
"And now, our guest of honor..." the host shouted, throwing his hands up. The audience followed his lead. "NOEN!"
"Go, quickly! This is your entrance!" Viktorius said, giving him a firm nudge.
Noen smiled, feeling a brief surge of adrenaline. "Thanks!" he said, glancing back as he stepped forward.
He emerged from the tunnel and was greeted by a wall of sound—cheers, clapping, and... was that laughter? Noen's smile faltered, replaced by an awkward expression.
"Come on in, have a seat, Noen!" The host pointed to two plush red chairs. He sat down in one of them immediately. Noen thanked him and took the other, feeling the heat of the stage lights on his skin.
"So, Noen!" the host began, leaning in with a wide, gleaming smile. "The world has been waiting for this. We've seen A-ranks, we've seen the legendary S-ranks... but today, we have something truly unique."
A massive screen behind them flickered to life. Noen's heart stopped. There it was—his system interface, projected for the whole world to see.
[System-Class: Noen]
[Title: The Absolute Zero]
[Role: 0]
[STR: -49.5 / 0]
[AGI: -50 / 0]
[END: -50 / 0]
[VIT: -50 / 0]
[FOC: -50 / 0]
[AFF: -50 / 0]
The audience erupted. Not in cheers, but in a wave of hysterical laughter.
"I mean, look at this!" the host chuckled, pointing a finger at the screen. "Usually, when people see a minus sign, it's on their bank account, not their muscles! Noen, tell me—do you fall over just by thinking about walking? Is gravity your greatest enemy?"
The crowd roared. Noen felt the blood rush to his face. "I... I'm trying to train," he stammered.
"Train?" the host wiped a tear from his eye. "What do you do? Lift balloons? Be careful, folks, if he punches you, you might actually feel stronger from the impact!"
The jokes kept coming, each one sharper than the last. The host poked fun at his clothes, his "Absolute Zero" status, and the sheer impossibility of his existence. Every time Noen tried to speak, he was cut off by another punchline. He looked out at the sea of faces, and all he saw were people pointing and laughing at the "glitch" in the red suit.
His vision began to blur. A hot, stinging sensation filled his eyes. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't a guest of honor. He was a circus act.
"And look at the Affinity! Negative fifty!" the host cried out. "The system doesn't just hate him.. It's actively trying to delete him! It's like the universe's way of saying 'Return to Sender'!"
A sob escaped Noen's throat. He couldn't take it anymore. He stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the stage floor.
"Whoa, easy there! Don't break a leg—literally!" the host laughed, but Noen didn't hear him. He turned and ran, tears streaming down his face, disappearing back into the dark tunnel as the sound of the audience's mockery followed him like a haunting echo.
The host stood up, looking genuinely confused as he watched Noen flee. He blinked at the camera, a small, awkward smile on his face. "A bit sensitive, isn't he?" He smoothed his suit and gave a thumbs up to the lens. "Quick commercial break, everyone! We'll be right back!"
Noen stumbled through the dark, winding corridors, his breath hitching in ragged sobs. He couldn't see through the tears, his hands frantically feeling along the cold walls.
"Ignaz! Viktorius! Balthazar!" he screamed, his voice echoing hollowly. "Where are you?!"
He sprinted around a sharp corner and slammed straight into a solid, unyielding figure. The impact sent Noen crashing to the floor. His head snapped back and his forehead scraped against the ground, a sharp sting flaring up immediately.
"Ignaz...?" he whimpered, clutching his head.
He looked up, his vision a watery, blurred mess. He saw the silhouette of a tall man standing over him, draped in a dark coat. For a second, he thought his ride home had finally found him. But as he blinked the tears away and his vision cleared, the air in the hallway seemed to freeze.
The man wasn't Ignaz.
Noen's heart stopped. "J-JORIS... G-GANTZ?"