The first goblin didn't see Phong.
It stood ankle-deep in a gutter of black water, picking at something that might once have been a diver. Its ears twitched. Its yellow eyes scanned the broken street.
They slid over him.
Phong adjusted the straps of his canvas backpack and walked past the creature like he was late for class.
A translucent panel hovered at the edge of his vision.
Name: Phong Tran
Class: Farmer
Level: 1
EXP: —
No bar. No numbers. Just a dash. Like the system itself had shrugged.
A year ago, when the first Gate opened over the Hudson and the sky cracked like glass, people had screamed. Governments had fallen over themselves. Influencers had live-streamed their own near-death experiences for sponsorship deals.
Now? It was Tuesday.
The Gate on Canal Street pulsed like a soap bubble stretched across reality. Divers in mismatched armor and branded tactical gear moved in and out, laughing too loud, bleeding too much. Drones hovered near the perimeter, streaming feeds to research departments and news networks hungry for the next miracle mineral or pre-collapse relic.
The era had a name already.
Modern Day Gold Rush.
Gold just happened to bite back.
Phong stepped through the Gate.
The world inverted, not with light or thunder, but with a soft, nauseating tug, like being pulled through warm syrup.
Then he was standing in the ruin-town again.
Floor One. Eastern Habitat Cluster 7, according to Columbia's Dungeon Cartography Department. To everyone else: "Goblin Block."
Crumbling stone buildings leaned over narrow streets. Moss swallowed rooftops. Faded murals depicted a civilization no Earth historian recognized: tall, antler-crowned figures carved into sandstone, faces chiseled away by time.
No skyscrapers. No wires. No tech.
Just bones of something old.
Goblins skittered through alleys. Three feet tall, green-gray skin, crude blades. They hissed and bickered.
They ignored him.
A goblin bumped into his leg, glanced up, blinked… and scurried away.
Phong didn't smile. He'd stopped finding it funny months ago.
Being invisible to low-level mobs was the only thing his class gave him.
No active skills.
No passives.
No stat boosts he could feel.
Just this strange, system-blessed irrelevance.
He walked into the central square, where a half-collapsed fountain served as a makeshift trading post. A cluster of divers were farming respawn points: pulling goblins from a side street, cutting them down, waiting for the trickle of system notifications.
A girl in mismatched leather armor wiped her blade on a rag.
A guy in a varsity jacket was arguing about loot rights.
Phong dropped his pack onto the fountain ledge.
"Battery packs," he called out. "For flashlight and fans. Two for ten. Thick socks, moisture-wicking. Battery banks. Energy drinks, cold sodas... yes, still cold."
Heads turned.
Not because he was important.
Because he was convenient.
A lanky diver jogged over. "You got electrolyte tabs?"
"Cherry or lime."
"Lime."
Transaction complete. Cash app pinged. Modern problems, modern dungeon.
Phong worked quickly, trading small comforts for small margins. It wasn't glorious, but it paid rent to his aunt and uncle back in Queens. It helped him finish a degree he already knew was useless.
Three years into Urban Planning.
Now entire cities were studying dungeon zoning permits instead.
A shadow fell across his goods.
"Yo."
Phong didn't look up immediately. He recognized the voice.
Josh. University golden boy. Father was a big sponsor of the uni they attended.
He finished handing a pack of AA batteries to a diver before raising his eyes.
Three of them.
Branded armor with sponsor patches. Fresh gear. Clean blades. The kind of divers who'd farmed goblin zone enough times to think that meant superiority.
Josh cracked his knuckles.
"You setting up shop in our farming spot again, Tran?"
Phong kept his tone even. "Public square."
The guy grinned. "Public my ass. We keep this area safe. Goblin density stable. That's infrastructure."
"Didn't know goblin murder came with zoning rights."
A few divers nearby snorted.
The grin vanished.
"Protection fee," the second one said. "Twenty percent."
Phong looked at his backpack. At the thin stack of bills he'd earned so far.
"I can't afford that."
The tallest one stepped closer. "Then you can't afford to be here."
A goblin darted between them, shrieking.
None of the three bullies noticed it.
Phong did.
He also noticed how it didn't notice him.
Josh punched the goblin head clean in, skull cracking, green blood splashing all over. Intimidation tactic.
Then he grabbed Phong's collar.
"Maybe we'll take payment in merchandise."
A blade of light slid between them.
A slender rapier, translucent and humming, pressed gently against the bully's wrist.
He froze.
A woman's voice, calm and edged like glass.
"Let him go."
She stood behind them, dark hair pulled back, leather coat cut like something between fencing attire and vigilante cosplay. A slim domino mask concealed her eyes. It didn't hide the authority in her posture.
The psychic rapier shimmered in her hand.
A second flicker of force tugged at the bully's collar. Telekinesis, subtle but unmistakable.
"Mind Blade," someone whispered.
One in ten million.
One of the rarest class ever surfaced in human population.
The tallest bully swallowed. "This isn't your business."
"Harassment inside an active dungeon?" she said lightly. "Seems like everyone's business."
Her rapier tilted slightly.
The message was clear.
They backed off.
Muttering. Pride wounded but survival instincts intact.
When they were gone, the rapier dissolved into motes of light.
She turned to Phong.
Up close, he recognized her.
Alexandra Vogel.
Campus queen. Med school. The kind of person professors referenced in speeches.
Here, she wore a different name, but he'd seen enough livestream clips to know it was her.
"You're going to get killed," she said bluntly.
"Statistically likely," Phong agreed.
She studied him. "What class?"
"Farmer."
She blinked. "You're joking."
"I wish."
Her gaze flicked to a goblin perched on a rooftop behind him. It stared at her with murderous intent.
It didn't look at him.
"…Huh," she murmured.
"You should hire security," she said after a moment. "Or join a team."
"I can't afford a bodyguard."
"That wasn't a joke."
"Neither was I."
For a second, something in her expression softened. Then the mask of the vigilante slid back into place.
She picked up a can from his cooler. "Energy drink."
"Four."
She tapped her phone. Payment pinged.
As she turned to leave, she paused.
"Next time," she said. "I might not be around."
Then she vanished down a side street, goblins scattering before her psychic blade.
Phong exhaled.
She was probably right.
He had been naive to think that an ordinary dude like him can be shovel vendors in gold rush. Turn out... positions like these are saved for influential people... People like Josh.
But the pride he felt when bringing his earning home, paying back his aunt and uncle care and support all these years make Phong hesitate.
Maybe just a while longer...
Maybe until he paid of his student loan... then he'll stop.
He packed up after another hour. Sales were decent. The bullies didn't return.
The deeper streets of floor 1 were quieter.
He wandered, not toward the farming clusters, but toward the outskirts of the ruin-town, where the stone buildings gave way to fields of knee-high silver grass.
Wind moved through it like breath.
He felt it then.
Not danger.
Not a notification.
Just… something.
The soil beneath the cracked cobblestones near the edge of town looked darker than usual. Richer.
He crouched.
Pressed his palm against it.
For a split second, the world sharpened.
He could feel moisture levels. Density. Nutrients.
Then it was gone.
No system window. No skill unlocked.
Just a phantom sensation, like remembering a dream.
"Hey, farmboy!"
A booming voice snapped him out of it.
Phong looked up.
A massive man in reinforced gauntlets and street-legal boxing boots strode toward him, armor scuffed, grin wide. He carried a tower shield like it weighed nothing.
Dominic Torres.
Class: Judgenaut.
Semi-pro boxer turned dungeon diver. Built like a tank. Smiled like a golden retriever.
"Tell me you saved me one," Dominic called out.
Phong straightened slowly.
"…Depends."
Dominic pointed dramatically at the cooler.
"Pepsi Max. Please tell me you didn't sell out."
Phong reached into the ice.
Pulled out a single cold can.
Held it up.
Dominic's eyes shone like he'd found treasure.
"Brother," he said reverently, "you are a saint."
Phong tossed him the can.
As Dominic cracked it open, the metallic hiss echoed across the empty field.
Somewhere beyond the silver grass, something massive shifted.
The ground trembled.
Dominic paused mid-sip.
"…You feel that?"
Phong did.
This time, when his palm brushed the earth.
The soil pulsed back.
Phong knew that tremor.
Shifting event.
The dungeon didn't obey tectonics. It didn't care about conservation of mass. It didn't even pretend to be accquainance with Earth physics.
Sometimes Floor One would "burp": vomiting a slice of some lower biome upward, swallowing part of itself down like a bovine burping up grass to chew again.
Tropical marsh became frozen tundra overnight. Ruin-town turned into coral forest. Divers who didn't move fast enough disappeared into places their levels had no business surviving.
The ground heaved again.
Silver grass rippled violently, then flattened as if something enormous had rolled beneath it.
Dominic's grin vanished. "Oh hell no."
"Run," Phong said.
He didn't need to say it twice.
The air warped. The skyline of crumbling sandstone flickered... half the buildings phasing into jagged obsidian spires before snapping back. A fissure tore open through the square behind them, goblins shrieking as they tumbled into a red-glowing abyss that hadn't existed seconds before.
Divers screamed.
System notifications cascaded in the air, glitching, overlapping.
WARNING: ENVIRONMENTAL RESTRUCTURING
WARNING: FLOOR INSTABILITY
Phong ran.
Not toward the Gate, that would already be clogged, but toward the outer ridges where terrain tended to settle instead of collapse.
The soil buckled under his feet.
Dominic swore, then simply scooped Phong up one-handed like he weighed nothing.
"Bro you are NOT dying over twenty-dollar batteries!"
Phong's world tilted as Dominic slung him over his shoulder like a sack of rice.
The sky tore.
There was no other word for it.
Blue fractured into something darker. A shadow passed overhead, too large to be a creature, too deliberate to be random.
Then the roar came.
Through the air.
And through bone.
It ripped across the landscape like a god dragging a blade over glass.
Every diver in sight dropped.
Dominic staggered mid-stride. His shield fell from his grip.
Phong felt it hit him a heartbeat later.
Sound became pressure. Pressure became knives.
He didn't hear himself scream.
Blood burst from his nose first.
Then his ears.
His vision exploded red as capillaries in his eyes ruptured.
His mouth filled with copper.
He tasted iron, bile, and dirt.
Something warm ran down his neck from his scalp. His lungs convulsed. Even the corners of his vision seemed to bleed.
It felt like the roar had reached inside him and tried to wring him dry.
He was aware, dimly, that Dominic collapsed, still trying to shield him with his body even as unconsciousness took the giant.
Phong hit the ground.
The earth beneath his cheek felt… alive.
For a terrifying instant, he thought the dungeon was swallowing him.
His thoughts fragmented.
This is it.
Level 1.
Farmer.
No exp bar.
No skills.
No...
Silence.
The roar cut off as abruptly as it began.
No aftershocks.
No echo.
Just wind over silver grass.
Phong lay there, twitching, blood seeping from eyes, nose, ears, lips. Even the tear ducts burned. He tried to inhale and felt something tear in his chest.
A hair away.
One more second of that sound and he would have popped like an overripe fruit.
Footsteps approached.
Slow. Careful.
"Look at that," a familiar voice said.
Josh!
Phong couldn't move. Could barely see. One eye was swollen shut; the other painted the world in smeared red.
"Told you he'd get what's coming," another muttered.
"Mind Blade bitch is out cold somewhere," the third said. "Whole floor dropped. Perfect timing."
A boot nudged his ribs.
He felt it distantly, like it was happening to someone else.
"Still breathing."
"Shame."
They didn't hesitate this time.
A kick to his stomach.
Something cracked.
A stomp to his shoulder.
Another to his face.
Pain flared bright and vanished, drowned under the greater agony already flooding his nerves. He tried to curl up but his body wouldn't answer.
They grabbed his backpack, ripped it open.
Cans spilled into the grass.
"Protection fee," the tall one sneered.
A fist slammed into his jaw.
That one he felt.
White light exploded behind his eyes.
Another punch.
Another.
Blood sprayed the silver grass dark.
"You think you're special?" the bully hissed. "Walking around like mobs don't see you? Freak."
A heel ground into his hand.
Something snapped in his fingers.
Phong wanted to laugh.
Special?
He was a Level 1 Farmer who sold socks.
A distant part of him registered heavy footsteps.
Fast.
Angry.
"HEY!"
Dominic's voice... ragged but thunderous.
The bullies froze.
Too late.
The first one flew sideways as Dominic barreled into him like a freight train, gauntleted fist driving into ribs with a wet crunch.
The second raised a blade.
A shield smashed into his face.
The third tried to run.
Dominic caught him by the back of his sponsor-branded armor and drove him into the ground hard enough to crater stone.
"YOU," Dominic roared, eyes bloodshot, blood still leaking from his own ears. "TOUCHED. MY. FRIEND?"
Each word punctuated by another impact.
Somewhere beyond the haze, Phong thought he saw a flicker of translucent light... like a rapier forming in shaky air. Alexandra, maybe, dragging herself upright through the aftermath.
But the world was fading.
Sound tunneled.
Dominic's shouts grew distant.
The sky above him flickered again.
For a split second, as consciousness slipped, Phong felt the soil beneath his body pulse once more.
Warmth seeped into him from the ground itself, threading through cracked ribs and ruptured vessels like roots searching for water.
Then everything went black.