The memory tasted like rust and cheap synthetic rain.
Yuto was ten years old the day he learned that the universe punished the desperate. He and his older sister, Mai, had been surviving in the Ash-Tribe slums, scavenging scrap tech from the outer rims of the Babel Tower. When Mai contracted Ash-Lung, her death was supposed to be a slow, quiet certainty.
Then, Yuto found it in the mud: a flawless [Silver Healing Core].
"Just wait, Mai," little Yuto had begged, clutching the glowing orb. "The black market broker comes in three days. We can trade this for a permanent cure and enough rations to leave the slums forever. Just hold on."
But the Ouroboros Guild lackeys—the local gang that taxed the slums—found out. They kicked the door of their shack off its hinges. Panicking, terrified for Yuto's life, Mai didn't wait. She swallowed the core, hoping the temporary surge of raw stats would let her fight them off.
The burst of power lasted exactly two minutes. It wasn't enough. The gang killed her, took their meager savings, and left Yuto bleeding in the dirt next to his sister's cooling body.
Taking the first scrap they offer you will get you killed. That was the lesson burned into Yuto Kurosawa's soul. Instant gratification was a trap designed to keep the weak exactly where they were.
Eight years later, eighteen-year-old Yuto stood in the rain-slicked courtyard of the Neo-Tokyo Awakening Shrine. Today, the Babel System would scan his soul and brand him with his destiny.
"Next. Scum from the Ash-Tribes," a heavily augmented Ouroboros Guild guard barked, pointing a chrome finger at Yuto.
Yuto stepped up to the massive, monolithic black stone. He didn't flinch. He pressed his palm against the cold surface. A jagged, barcode-like tattoo—the Babel-Stigma—seared itself into the back of his right hand.
[System Initializing...]
[Scanning Host: Yuto Kurosawa]
[Analyzing Soul Trauma... Match Found.]
[Innate Talent Acquired: F-Rank - Delayed Gratification]
A synthesized voice broadcast the result across the courtyard. Snickers erupted from the crowd of Guild initiates.
"F-Rank? Delayed Gratification?" the cyborg guard wheezed, laughing so hard his synthetic lung clicked. "What does that do? Make you wait in the ration line faster? Have fun dying in the scrap heaps, rat."
Yuto ignored them. He pulled his hand back, staring at the dull grey text in his retinas. F-Rank was the lowest tier in existence. But as he focused his eyes, the grey text glitched. A secondary, hidden window flickered into existence, glowing a dangerous, deep crimson.
[Hidden Passive Unlocked: The Tension Protocol]
Description: Any unconsumed Code Fragment, Loot, or Stat Point can be 'Vaulted'.
Effect: Vaulted items enter quantum flux. Their value increases exponentially for every day they remain unclaimed.
Formula: $Vaulted Power = Base Reward \times (1.05)^{Days Unclaimed}$
Warning: Holding unspent potential causes severe physical and psychological pressure. If the Host dies before claiming, the Vault is permanently erased.
Yuto's dark eyes widened. A slow, terrifying smile crept onto his face. He wasn't garbage. He was a walking time bomb. He just had to do the one thing no greedy, power-hungry Hunter in the history of the Tower had ever done.
He had to wait.