The fluorescent lights of the police station hummed softly overhead, casting a pale and almost sickly glow over the long concrete hall that had been specially reinforced for a ritual older than any living person could remember.
Rows of heavy steel chairs had been bolted directly into the floor, each one secured with thick restraints that wrapped around wrists, ankles, and torso. The arrangement looked disturbingly similar to a detention facility, yet every individual inside the hall knew that the restraints were not punishment.
They were protection.
Victor sat in one of those chairs, his thin body pulled tight against the metal frame by leather straps that had clearly been used countless times before. The bindings were firm enough that he could barely shift his shoulders, and the cold steel pressed uncomfortably against his back through the worn fabric of his ragged T-shirt.
Around him sat dozens of other teenagers.
Fifty-four in total.
Every one of them had reached the same age tonight.
Fifteen.
Most of them wore relatively clean clothes and shoes that still held their shape, yet Victor looked as if he had been dragged directly out of the slums and thrown into the room without preparation. His shirt had faded into an indeterminate shade between gray and brown, while the cheap pants he wore were so thin that the fabric had almost turned transparent around the knees.
Several of the other boys and girls glanced at him with thinly veiled disgust.
Victor did not need to hear their thoughts to understand what they were thinking.
Slum trash.
A waste of space.
He simply ignored them and stared forward in silence.
Beyond the reinforced windows of the building, the night outside was restless. Hundreds of people had gathered in the streets surrounding the station, their anxious murmurs forming a constant background noise that drifted through the walls like distant thunder.
They were the guardians.
Parents.
Relatives.
Older siblings.
All of them had come to wait for the same reason.
Inside this building, their children would undergo the ritual that had shaped human civilization for centuries.
The Summoning Trial.
For hundreds of years the process had repeated itself without interruption, generation after generation stepping into the same unknown abyss.
Every midnight.
Every day.
Every city.
The police station had an entire wing dedicated to it.
The Summoner Building.
Heavily guarded.
Completely isolated.
A group of Special Task Force officers stood along the walls, their black uniforms perfectly straight and their weapons resting silently at their sides. Their expressions remained neutral, yet the tension hidden behind their calm eyes betrayed that even experienced veterans never completely relaxed during nights like this.
Victor tilted his head slightly and stared at the digital clock mounted above the far door.
11:46 PM.
Fourteen minutes remained.
Fourteen minutes until his life changed forever.
Or ended.
He exhaled slowly through his nose and closed his eyes for a moment.
This world was absurd.
Absolutely absurd.
A bitter smile briefly appeared on his face.
Victor had not been born here.
He had transmigrated.
The memory of his previous life remained crystal clear in his mind, and when he had first awakened in this strange new world years ago he had nearly laughed himself unconscious from excitement.
A fantasy world.
Real magic.
Monsters.
Summoners.
The kind of setting that every web novel addict secretly dreamed about.
He had laughed for nearly thirty minutes without stopping.
He had truly believed that destiny had finally decided to reward him.
That illusion had lasted exactly three days.
Three days were all it took for reality to crush his expectations into dust.
Victor had awakened inside the body of a malnourished orphan living in one of the most dangerous slums in the city. His new home had been nothing more than a leaking shack built from scrap metal and broken wood, and the only family member he possessed was a small boy who depended entirely on him for survival.
Ethan.
His little brother.
A thin child with bright eyes who had learned far too early how cruel the world could be.
Victor clenched his jaw slightly.
The dream of becoming a powerful protagonist had vanished quickly once he learned the rules governing this reality.
In this world every human being underwent the same test at the age of fifteen.
Their consciousness would be transported to another dimension known as the Monster Continent.
Once there, they would awaken inside the body of a monster.
Not a human.
A monster.
Their mission was brutally simple.
Survive.
Grow stronger.
Reach Level 10.
If they succeeded, they would return to their bodies in the real world and gain the ability to summon that monster as their contracted beast.
If they failed and died inside the trial, the monster they had inhabited would appear in the real world as a corrupted creature.
Which meant the authorities had to kill it.
Immediately.
Victor opened his eyes again.
The clock read 11:51 PM.
Nine minutes left.
A door at the front of the hall suddenly opened with a sharp metallic click.
An officer stepped inside.
He was a large man with a shaved head and a square jaw that looked permanently irritated by the existence of other people. His heavy boots echoed loudly against the concrete floor as he walked toward the center of the room.
The murmuring among the teenagers died instantly.
Everyone recognized the routine.
The officer stopped in front of them and crossed his arms.
"You already know what is going to happen tonight," he said in a voice that carried easily across the room. "But since every batch contains a few idiots who never bothered to listen before, I will explain it one more time."
His eyes moved across the rows of restrained teenagers.
They stopped briefly when they reached Victor.
The officer's gaze lingered on his worn clothes and thin frame.
Disgust flickered across his face.
Then he continued speaking.
"At midnight your consciousness will be summoned to the Monster Continent."
Several of the teenagers swallowed nervously.
"You will awaken there as a monster species," the officer continued calmly. "The species is random. It can be anything from a weak creature like a goblin to a high-rank predator."tor felt a cold sensation crawl down his spine.
The officer continued without emotion.
"Your objective is simple. Survive and reach Level 10. Even if you can't reach level 10, try to survive for ten years there."
He paused briefly before adding in a casual tone that felt disturbingly inappropriate.
"If you die there, you die here."
The room fell completely silent.
The officer scratched the back of his neck.
"And before anyone starts crying, let me remind you that time flows differently in the Monster Continent. It doesn't matter how long you spend there, only 1 hour will pass here.
But if you can survive for 10 years, even without reaching level 10, you will be given an opportunity to come out. Though you wouldn't become a summoner, you can definitely live a normal life."
Several of the teenagers looked slightly relieved.
"You do not need to rush," the officer said. "Take as long as necessary to grow stronger."
He glanced around the room once more.
"However, dying is still extremely inconvenient for us. If you cause too much troubles for us, maybe your families will have to pay for your crimes."
A few confused expressions appeared.
The officer shrugged.
"When you die, the monster body you were controlling will be transported into the real world as a corrupted entity."
He pointed toward the armed Special Task Force members standing around the hall.
"They will have to clean up the mess."
The implication was clear.
Your death created extra work.
Victor stared at the officer with narrowed eyes.
He hated this place.
He hated this world.
But most of all he hated the fact that he was powerless to change any of it.
The officer's gaze shifted back toward him.
"You," he said suddenly.
Victor blinked.
"Yes, you. The one who looks like he crawled out of a sewer."
A few teenagers snickered quietly.
Victor said nothing.
The officer leaned forward slightly.
"If you die and bring some garbage monster into our world, I will personally make sure it disappears within seconds."
Victor clenched his teeth.
The man straightened again.
"I do not have anything else to say," he concluded. "Good luck."
He turned and walked back toward the door.
The clock ticked forward.
11:59 PM.
Victor closed his eyes.
His thoughts drifted toward Ethan.
The boy would probably still be awake.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Victor had never told him how dangerous the trial truly was.
Children deserved at least one illusion.
The final seconds passed slowly.
The digital clock changed.
12:00 AM.