I chose F-2.
I chose Rockhide Ape.
Trash.
Nothing special.
Easy to ignore.
I hit confirm.
[ False Genesis — Override Confirmed ]
[ Fake Identity Created ]
[ Name: Shen Yan ]
[ Age: 18 ]
[ Rank: F-2 ]
[ Bloodline: Rockhide Ape ]
[ Grade : Common ]
[ Status: Registered ]
I watched my details shown in the crystal.
My smirk stayed.
Perfect.
Now I was just another nobody in the crowd.
Shen Yan, F-2, Rockhide Ape. Common Grade.
My lips twitched.
Perfect.
Just another nobody.
For a second, everyone went quiet.
Two seconds, maybe.
Then the noise started.
The laughter.
Too loud. Too stupid. Too proud for people who've never even thrown a punch.
Well… okay, a few of them did go into the Zone — but let's be honest, half of those fights were probably against mosquitoes.
Someone near me snorted so hard he nearly blew his brain out his nose.
I almost puked right there.
"Calm, Shen Yan. Calm."
I caught a girly voice from somewhere in the back.
"Rockhide Ape? Seriously?"
Then some idiot joined in.
"Still trash after all that?"
And of course, there's always one who wants the final punchline.
"Guess the gods ran out of miracles!"
Yeah. Real comedians, all of them.
I didn't look at them. Just listened.
Every voice came sharp, proud, full of that fake joy people get when they finally see someone lower than them.
Idiots.
If stupidity was a bloodline, half of them would've hit S-class already.
I stood there, still as the crystal.
Didn't blink. Didn't move.
Didn't even bother to frown.
Principal Wang was laughing too.
Sounded like his lungs were filing a complaint.
Each laugh came out wheezy, broken — like one more and he'd need an oxygen tank.
He even wiped the corner of his eye like I was the best joke he'd heard all year.
Then he waddled over, hand landing heavy on my shoulder.
"Ah, Shen Yan, Shen Yan…" he puffed between laughs, "you never disappoint — always full of surprises."
I blinked at him, tilting my head.
"Full of surprises? How though? I was trash before, still trash now. Pretty consistent if you ask me."
He laughed again anyway, louder, like he didn't even hear me — or maybe he just didn't care.
Either way, it sounded fake.
Pat. Pat.
Then a push — small, polite, like he didn't want to look too obvious.
"Alright, alright, make space. Let the real talents through," he said, still grinning like a cracked mask.
I couldn't help it. Yeah — nailed it.
The ultimate skill: complete invisibility. No mana cost, no cooldown. Just pure, high-tier "don't notice me."
They laughed, pointed, whispered… and then, just like that, they moved on.
Like I'd never existed.
Honestly? Felt nice.
Peaceful, even.
What was I gonna do anyway?
Join their shiny university circus?
Some old professor who never bled a day in his life telling me how to fight?
Please. If they were so great, why aren't they the ones out there dying at the front?
Sitting safe, grading papers, teaching 'courage' while the rest of us put blood on the line.
They're not teachers — they're leftovers. Failures who hand out diplomas like excuses.
Please.
I already learned that class — in the Zone.
Taught by death. Final exam: stay alive.
No certificate. No applause. Just surviving.
Every breath there was a lesson. Every kill was homework. Every mistake got graded in blood.
If they still want to call me trash, fine.
I'll walk out of their dump and build something else — my way.
I looked up. The sky didn't change. Same stars, same moon, pretending to care.
I took a long breath and said it softly, just for me.
"Yeah…"
If they still want to call me trash, fine.
Then I'll walk out of their dump and build something else — my way.
I looked up.
The sky was still same.
I took a long breath and said it softly, just for me.
"Yeah…"
For once, I knew what I wanted.
Not their approval.
Just me — and the bodies and skills I'll collect along the way.
Not their pity. Not their pride.
Just Shen Yan — the trash they threw away,
now learning how to walk without needing anyone's hands to pull him up.
"Shen Yan."
…Nothing.
"Shen Yan!"
That one actually made it through the fog in my head. I blinked, half-dazed, turned my head.
Some guy in a black military coat was standing a few steps away. Short hair, dead eyes, that standard-issue soldier look — like life had been punching him since birth and he just learned to stop flinching.
For a second, I thought he came to arrest me.
Would've made sense.
If I saw me walking around like this, I'd arrest me too.
"You're Shen Yan, right? From Zone 17?"
"Yeah," I said slowly. "Who's asking?"
He glanced at that little wristband of his — probably checking if I matched the "do-not-invite" list.
Then he nodded, all serious, like he'd just confirmed the weather.
"Not enrolled in any academy. Rank F-2, Rockhide Ape Bloodline."
He paused. "We've got an opening — Zone Guide Division. One month of training, then deployment."
I raised an eyebrow. "Zone guide? What's that, babysitting rookies while they try not to scream themselves to death?"
He didn't even blink. "Close enough. You'll live inside the Zones, track mutation spikes, make sure hunters don't die too fast. Pays decent. Comes with gear."
He handed me a small white card. Military seal, clearance mark — fancy for something that basically said, 'We'll throw you back into hell, but now you'll get paid.'
I looked at it for a second. Felt that weird pull in my chest again. Not fear. Not doubt.
Just… freedom.
No teachers.
No fake smiles.
No idiots calling me trash.
…Wait.
That's a lie.
There'll probably be more idiots calling me trash.
Whole teams of them, actually — fresh recruits, bright eyes, big dreams.
They'll take one look at my rank and bloodline and start whispering,
"Why's this loser our guide?"
I chuckled softly. "Yeah… can already hear it."
Still, it's fine.
Let them talk.
When they scream inside the Zone, I'll be the one showing them what 'trash' really looks like.
Just me, the monsters, and the dark that still knows my name.
I grinned. "Alright, soldier. You got yourself a guide."
He nodded once — stiff, like his neck had training too — then turned and walked away before I could even blink or say anything.
I looked at the card one last time, slipped it into my pocket.
Guess the world finally figured me out.
Didn't even fight it this time — just tossed me right back where I belong.
Into the Zone.
Where death teaches better than any classroom ever could.