I leaned back in the obsidian tub, letting the magical water sting the scars I hadn't noticed before. As the steam rose, so did his memories.
In this world, age ten is everything. It's the day you Awaken.
The hierarchy is absolute: S+ is the peak of humanity—only ten of them exist—followed by S, A, B, C, D, E, and finally... F. The bottom of the barrel. The "Useless."
Along with a rank, everyone gets a Soul Tool—a weapon or object bound to their spirit that reflects who they are.
Jayden Cross was an F-Class.
To the orphanage director, an F-Class wasn't a child; he was inventory. He was sold off like a piece of scrap metal to a man named Chadwick in the slums.
For five years, Jayden was a ghost. He stole, he cheated, and he sold fakes just to keep Chadwick fed and drunk. If the daily quota wasn't met? No food. Just a beating that left the scars I was currently tracing with my fingers.
But three years ago, the "beast" brought home a distraction: Melody.
She was ten, terrified, and alone. Jayden, who had never known a sibling, became her shield. He did her work. He took her beatings. He kept her soul intact while his own was breaking.
Until last night.
[Flashback: The Breaking Point]
The air in the shack reeked of cheap alcohol. Chadwick was stumbling, his eyes glazed with a disgusting hunger as he cornered Melody. She was thirteen now, trapped like a bird in a cage.
Jayden didn't think. He didn't check his rank. He just snapped.
He grabbed a heavy wooden chair and swung with everything he had. CRACK. The wood splintered against Chadwick's back, giving Melody the few seconds she needed to bolt out the door.
"RUN!" Jayden screamed.
Then the world turned into a blur of pain. Chadwick was a grown man; Jayden was a starving fifteen-year-old F-Class. It wasn't a fight—it was a slaughter.
They tumbled across the floor, Chadwick's heavy fists breaking Jayden's ribs. Jayden clawed, bit, and kicked, desperate to buy Melody one more minute of distance. He managed to scramble out into the rain, collapsing in a trash-filled alleyway.
He stayed there for twenty-four hours. No food. No help. Just the cold rain washing away his life.
[Present Day]
I stepped out of the bath and dried off.
So that's when I took over, I thought.
But there was a problem. Jayden's injuries were fatal—broken ribs, internal bleeding, exhaustion. Yet, when I woke up, the pain was gone.
Did I bring a self-healing power with me? Or is this body hiding something the 'System' missed?
I looked at the scars. I felt a twinge of pity for the kid, but I quickly shook it off.
Look, kid. I feel for you, but taking care of someone else when you can barely feed yourself? That's just a recipe for disaster. That's on you.
I pulled on the "hella rich" clothes Stephanie had left—silk trousers and a shirt that felt like a second skin. I didn't even bother waiting for dinner. My brain was fried, and my soul was exhausted.
I fell onto the massive bed, the silk sheets swallowing me whole.
"What a chaotic day," I mumbled into the pillow.
Before I could even think about the "Beast" Jamie or the Demon King, the darkness of sleep pulled me under.