Before him stood three arrogant young masters, their faces twisted with malice.
"Haven't I told you?" one sneered. "You don't belong here. This school is only for the elite and the worthy. A rat like you will only bring disease. Go back to the gutter where you came from."
They laughed like hyenas. Osamu Shun let out a long, exhausted sigh.
"Sometimes I just want to chop your heads off, hang them on the school gate, then arrange your limbs on the field into big letters so the rooftop crowd can read the message."
The three boys froze, eyes wide.
"A-Are you threatening us?"
Shun blinked, suddenly aware of how that had sounded. He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.
"Crap. Sorry. My brain's not here today. You were calling me a pest, right?" He flashed a tired grin. "At least I don't walk around on a leash like you three."
"Osamu Shun! You think you can threaten the heirs of a great family and walk away?"
One of them lunged, fist flying.
To Shun the punch moved slower than a crawling baby. Dodging and countering would have been trivial. But… considering his position in this school, he simply sighed and took the hit.
Right as the fist was two inches from his face, two glowing exhaust ports flared open on the attacker's arm. Crimson flames roared out. The punch accelerated, now carrying real power.
"Go die!"
Shun's body flew backward and slammed into a tree twenty meters away. Leaves rained down. He coughed up a mouthful of blood that soaked his shirt dark red, then lay perfectly still.
"Heh. Weakling. All bark, no bite," the trio laughed, spat on him, and strolled away.
The moment their backs were turned, Shun cracked one eye open, reached into his mouth, and pulled out an empty plastic pouch labeled "Fake Blood."
"Five-star performance," he muttered, grinning to himself as he tossed the pouch aside.
Fighting back would mean slapping their entire bloodlines. Just thinking about the paperwork made him tired.
To prepare for the next Wave and protect humanity, the city had built elite academies. Nexus Academy was the crown jewel—one of the most prestigious schools in Adapta, where the sons and daughters of the world's most powerful families trained.
Shun was at the very bottom: Dormant stage, poor family, scholarship student. In their eyes he was the perfect punching bag.
Hunter ranks began at Dormant, then climbed through Awakened, Shepherd, Refinance, Transcendence, Saint, Half-Lord, and finally True Lord.
A gentle breeze brushed his hair. He stared at the unchanging blue sky and let his mind drift. Hundreds of hunters died every year on the front lines, yet the school still rang with laughter. In a few years it would be his turn. Whether he lived or died… well, that was future-Shun's problem.
He stood, dusted himself off, changed in the locker room, and washed the spit from his hair. The rest of the day passed in its usual rhythm: classes, sparring, lunch with the few friends who didn't care about status, and the occasional insult from young masters. He'd grown used to it. With so little time left before the real war, he'd learned to enjoy the small things.
When the final bell rang, two of his close friends approached.
"We're hitting karaoke. Girls from the next class are coming. You in?"
"Nah, sorry. Got a job tonight."
"Dude, you're gonna die alone at this rate. Come on—the girls are gorgeous!"
"Appreciate it, but I really can't. Save me a spot next time."
One friend winked and mimed shooting him with finger guns. "I'll collect all their numbers for you, bro. Someone's gotta save you from eternal solitude."
Shun only smiled as they left. He turned to the one who'd stayed behind.
"How's Jax treating you these days?"
"Same as always."
"You thinking about rejoining the group?"
The boy shook his head.
"Hit me up if you change your mind. Door's always open."
They did their usual ridiculous handshake—formal, then bro-hug, fist bump, finger guns, fake chest shots, dramatic collapse—before both burst out laughing.
"Ghost you today," the friend said.
"Ghost you too."
Shun yawned as he walked down the street, ignoring the chaos unfolding ahead. No one else paid attention either. A squad of drones had formed a shimmering dome around the fight, projecting a force field.
He stopped at his favorite ice-cream truck—four heavy sentries mounted on the roof, two already tracking him.
"Usual, please."
"Un."
While he waited, Shun glanced at the scene. Three armored cars with black claw emblems. Behind them stood six hulking figures—bodies almost entirely replaced by prosthetics and magiteck. Metallic arms that could become plasma cannons, legs that broke the sound barrier. "Gunkies," people called them—implant addicts.
Opposite them were three hunters: two Awakened, one Shepherd. The energy rolling off them was unmistakable.
The gunkies opened fire. The hunters dodged effortlessly. Explosions rocked the street.
"I'll say this once," one hunter growled. "Surrender and return what you stole."
"Make us, corporate dogs!"
The lead hunter slammed his palm to the ground. The earth shook. Two massive spikes erupted. The real fight began.
Shun's eyelids grew heavy. He yawned again, a thin line of drool escaping before he wiped it away.
A car suddenly dropped from the sky—probably knocked loose by the battle—and slammed straight into the force field. The barrier glitched. The car punched through and hurtled toward the ice-cream truck.
"Kid, stop that," the vendor grunted.
"If it's a car, sure."
Shun crouched, then launched upward, leaving cracks in the pavement. Mid-air he straightened his arms. The car smashed into him and drove him straight into the ground. Dust exploded outward.
When it cleared, Shun stood with both arms raised, holding the dented bumper above his head. His nails had punched clean through the plastic. He set the car down gently and strolled back to the truck.
"Nice," the vendor said.
Shun grinned—until he heard the whine of a flying truck.
"Nope. Not that one."
At Dormant stage, stopping a winged truck was suicide. The vendor simply pressed a remote. The roof sentries swiveled and unleashed a storm of anti-piercing rounds. The truck shuddered, slowed, then exploded mid-air and crashed in a fireball.
"Why didn't you shoot the car?" Shun asked, licking his vanilla cone.