Clink! Clank!
The sound of metal clashing against metal echoed through the desolate subway tunnel.
The air was thick with the smell of rust, damp concrete, and something else... something foul and vaguely sweet, like rotting fruit.
This was the inside of an E-rank dungeon.
A 'Goblin Nest'.
The most basic, most common type of dungeon there was.
Perfect for a training session.
"Ron! Left!" I called out, my voice calm and steady.
I was leaning against the graffiti-covered wall of the tunnel, watching him with a critical eye. I was in my angelic form, with my silver-white hair and silver eyes, but my new black leather suit made me look like a creature of the night.
Ron, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of desperate, clumsy motion.
He was wearing the leather armor I'd bought for him, which was a bit too big for his slender frame, making him look like a kid playing dress-up in his father's clothes. He was clutching the steel dagger I'd given him, his knuckles white from the force of his grip.
At my command, he spun around, his eyes wide with panic.
A goblin, a small, green-skinned creature with pointed ears and yellowed fangs, was lunging at him from the side, a rusty, jagged sword in its grubby hand.
Ron yelped, a high-pitched sound that was more suited to a scared kitten than a fledgling warrior. He swung his dagger wildly, his eyes squeezed shut.
He missed by a mile.
The goblin cackled, a high, grating sound, and lunged again.
"Open your damn eyes, you idiot!" I roared, my patience wearing thin.
Ron's eyes snapped open. He saw the goblin's sword gleaming in the dim light, mere inches from his chest.
He reacted on pure instinct.
He dropped to the ground, the goblin's sword swishing harmlessly over his head. He then kicked out with his leg, tripping the creature.
The goblin yelped as it tumbled to the ground, its sword clattering out of its reach.
Ron scrambled to his feet, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked at the stunned goblin, then at the dagger in his hand.
He took a deep breath, raised the dagger with both hands, and plunged it down into the creature's chest.
Squelch!
The sound was wet and sickening. Green blood, thick and viscous, sprayed onto Ron's face and clothes. He stared at the goblin's corpse, its lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling of the tunnel, his chest heaving, his stomach churning.
"Pathetic," I said, my voice flat. "You were lucky. A real warrior would have ended it in one clean move. You flailed around like a headless chicken."
"S-So-sorry," he stammered, wiping the goblin blood from his face with the back of his hand. He looked green, like he was about to be sick.
"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," I said, pushing myself off the wall. "You're the one who almost got himself killed. Now, get up. We're not done."
Ron slowly got to his feet, his movements stiff and clumsy. He looked at the dead goblin, then at the blood on his hands, and a shudder ran through him.
I could see the conflict in his eyes. The revulsion, the fear, the self-doubt. He was a gentle soul, forced into a violent world. And I was the one who had pushed him in.
'Good,' I thought. 'Let him struggle. Let him suffer. Let him break. Only then can he be rebuilt into something stronger.'
I have to admit, this world is much more interesting than my old one.
These dungeons come in all shapes and sizes. A dungeon like this one, an E-rank Goblin Nest, is a pocket dimension that is connected to a specific location in the real world, in this case, an abandoned subway tunnel. They spawn monsters, and if left unchecked, those monsters could spill out into the city.
That's where adventurers like us come in.
We clear the dungeons, we collect the loot, and we get paid.
It's a brutal, but effective, system.
And for me, it's a buffet.
Every monster I kill releases a small burst of mana, a delicious little morsel that I can absorb. It's not as potent as the mana generated by lust, but it's a steady, reliable source of energy.
And the more I kill, the stronger I become.
However, relying on these dungeons isn't enough. The higher the rank, the stronger the monsters, and the more dangerous they become.
Permanent dungeons like the one we're in are weaker and give less EXP, mainly because people have farmed them like a million times.
The real treasures and the real power are in the 'Temporary Dungeons'. They randomly appear all over the world for a limited time, and they are much more dangerous, but the rewards are also much greater. That's where the big-name adventurers make their real money and fame.
But for now, for Ron's training, this place was perfect.
The tunnels were a labyrinth of darkness and decay. The walls were covered in graffiti, the floor littered with trash and debris. The air was thick with the stench of goblin filth and something else... something acrid and magical.
"Hey Ron, I forgot to ask you," I said, my voice echoing in the silence. "Do you know what your 'class' is?"
He flinched at the question, looking at me with a confused expression.
"M-my class?" he asked, his voice still shaky.
"Your class," I repeated, my tone patient. "Your innate ability. Your gift from the world. Every human in this world has one, a unique power that manifests when they come of age. For some, it's the ability to manipulate fire. For others, it's superhuman strength or speed. For you... What is it?"
"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "I... I've never been tested."
"You've never been tested?" I raised an eyebrow. "How is that possible?"
"The awakening ritual usually happens when someone enrolls in the adventurer's academy," he explained, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But... I couldn't afford to go. So I never found out."
"So you're an 'unawakened'," I said, a slow, predatory smile spreading across my lips. "Interesting."
"Is it too late to get one? To awaken?" I asked. "If you enrolled in the academy now, they would perform the ritual for you. It's a standard procedure, right?"
Ron looked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes.
"Y-Yes," he said, his voice a little steadier. "But... I can't afford the tuition. It's... it's a lot of money."
"Forget about the bloody money," I said, gently smacking his head. "When does the enrollment season start?"
"In-in two months," he stammered.
"Good," I said. "We will deal with it then. In the meantime, you have a different kind of awakening to experience."
I pointed down the tunnel to a larger, more open area up ahead. The air there shimmered with a faint, green light, and the sounds of more goblins echoed from the darkness.
"Now, let's continue," I said. "This time, if you close your eyes, I'll fucking gouge them out. Understand?"
He flinched at the harshness in my tone but nodded, his grip on the dagger tightening.
We continued down the tunnel, our footsteps the only sound in the oppressive silence. Ron was walking in front of me now, his back straight, his head held high, just as I had instructed.
He was trying. He was really trying.
He was still scared, still hesitant, but there was a new determination in his eyes. A fire that hadn't been there before.
He may be weak now, but he had potential. A lot of it.
Ron has the same eyes as I did, all those years ago. The same look of a cornered animal, desperate to survive, willing to do whatever it takes.
I see myself in him.
A broken soul, given a second chance.
A chance to become something more than just a victim.
A chance to become a monster.
"Two goblins," I whispered, my senses picking up on the foul stench of their filth. "And a bigger one. A Hobgoblin. They're smarter and stronger than the regular ones. Don't underestimate it."
Ron nodded, his knuckles white.
As we rounded the corner, the scene unfolded before us. Two goblins were huddled around a small, sputtering fire, roasting what looked like a giant rat on a spit. Standing behind them, towering over them, was a Hobgoblin.
It was bigger than a normal goblin, reaching about 1.5 meters, with muscular green skin that was covered in crude, black tattoos. It was wielding a massive, rusty axe, its beady eyes filled with a cruel intelligence.
The Hobgoblin spotted us first. It let out a deep, guttural roar, a sound that vibrated in my chest, and raised its axe.
The two smaller goblins yelped and scrambled for their weapons, their yellow eyes filled with a mixture of fear and bloodlust.
"Let me," I said, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder, stopping him from rushing in.
He looked at me, his eyes wide with confusion.
"Just watch," I said, my lips curling into a slow, predatory smile.
I didn't bother to take a stance, only resting my left hand on the hilt of my black katana and releasing my sword intent.
Whoooosh!
The two small goblins didn't even have the chance to scream before they were sliced in half. Their bodies fell to the ground in two neat, bloody halves, their heads rolling across the dirty floor.
The Hobgoblin froze, its beady eyes wide with shock and fear. It looked at its dead comrades, then at me, its mind struggling to process what had just happened.
It was a simple move, but executed with a speed and precision that was beyond human.
Ron stared, his mouth agape, his dagger held loosely in his hand. He had seen me move, but he hadn't been able to follow the motion. It was a blur, a flash of silver, and then... death.
"Alright, the big one is all yours," I said with a shrug. "Try not to die, or I'll kill you myself."