Kerry looked at the choice. Bone Sovereign. He didn't need to manipulate spirits or hide behind a curtain of stolen souls. He wanted something he could feel, something solid.
The weight of white calcium, the grinding of joints, the absolute silence of a graveyard. He wanted the army.
[Class Evolution Available.]
[Warning: Evolution will permanently alter host's soul structure. Proceed?]
"Yes," he said.
The world didn't just go dark; it vanished. He was suspended in a void where the only sound was the rattle of dry things. Bone dust rose from the floor of his consciousness, a white whirlwind that caught his breath and turned it into frost. He felt his skin itch, then burn, as if he were being flayed by invisible hands and stitched back together with silver wire.
[Evolution Initiated...]
[Rewriting soul matrix...]
[Assimilating Death Authority...]
[Title Acquired: Lord of the Ossuary.]
The ground beneath his mental feet split. White flames, cold as a winter morning, licked at his ankles. He didn't scream, but his jaw locked tight enough to crack. He was being lifted, his ribs expanding to house a power that felt like a mountain of lead.
[Evolution Complete.]
[You have become the Bone Sovereign — Monarch of Death's Remains.]
When Kerry's boots hit the ground again, the silence was heavy. He stood in a wasteland of his own making, his eyes shimmering with a pale, silver light. His hoodie felt different and heavier. A mantle of bone fragments, shifting and clicking like the scales of a serpent, draped across his shoulders.
He lifted a hand. In the dirt, fingers of yellowed ivory twitched. Skeletons rose, their spines snapping into place as they knelt in perfect, terrifying unison.
[All things that perish shall bow before the Sovereign of Bones.]
A wave of pressure erupted from his chest, a circular blast of energy that tore through the air four times, shaking the foundations of the world until the last scrap of shadow was sucked back into his skin.
He clenched his fist. The darkness scattered like smoke in a gale.
[SYSTEM STATUS WINDOW]
* Name: Kerry
* Age: 16 (Biological)
* Level: 3
* Class: Bone Sovereign
* Title: Lord of the Ossuary
"Lord of the Ossuary," he muttered. The words felt cold on his tongue.
He looked around. The grey mist was gone.
The white bones were gone. He was standing on asphalt. The air smelled of exhaust and fried food.
Beeeeep!
The sound of the horn was like a physical strike. Kerry jumped, his boots skidding on the road as a yellow taxi swerved around him. He stood frozen, staring at the towering glass buildings, the neon signs, and the sea of people moving with frantic, mechanical purpose.
"Where am I?"
A man in a sharp suit walked past, giving him a look of pure annoyance. "What kind of question is that? You're in Tokyo. Shibuya."
Kerry's stomach dropped. "Japan...?"
He spun around, his eyes wide. This wasn't home. This wasn't even the right continent. He had no money, no documents, just a hoodie made of dead things and a system that had dumped him in the middle of a foreign hive.
He moved away from the crowd, his steps heavy. He felt the weight of the silver in his eyes. How was he supposed to get back to his mother? How do you cross an ocean when you're technically a corpse?
He walked until the glass and steel began to rot into wood and rust. On the edge of the city, he found a small, derelict house. The door groaned on its hinges, revealing a room buried under layers of dust and webs.
"I'll stay here," he whispered. "Until I can pay my way out."
He began to move. His hands were a blur. He didn't feel the fatigue in his muscles; he just saw the dust vanish.
"My speed..." he muttered. It was unnatural. He was moving ten times faster than a man should, his body a well-oiled machine of necrotic energy.
[Hygiene: Poor]
[Warning: Prolonged stay may result in illness.]
Kerry ignored it. He stripped off the hoodie, hanging it on a beam. Underneath, his white shirt was damp with the sweat of the morning. He stepped back outside, the city's roar reaching him even here.
A digital screen on a nearby pharmacy flashed.
[Breaking News: White Claw Guild remains missing in Shibuya C-rank gate...]
Kerry watched the scrolling text. Hunters. Guilds. Gates. It was a language he didn't speak, but he understood the currency.
He walked until he reached a massive building of black glass. Iron Fang Guild.
[Hunter Progressing...]
[Help clear gates to earn rewards.]
"Money," Kerry said. "If I clear these, I get paid."
But he stopped at the glass doors. He didn't have a card. He didn't have a name.
The system interface flickered to life, the blue light reflecting in the glass.
"Fill out your forms. Remember, change your name."
Kerry frowned. "Change it? Why?"
His eyes drifted to a digital clock on a skyscraper. The date was 2025.
He felt the blood drain from his face. "2025? It's been two years?"
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Two years. He'd told his mother he'd be back in five, and the system had already stolen two of them in what felt like a single night of evolution.
He clenched his jaw, his breath coming in a sharp hiss. "Great. Just great."
The system beeped, insistent. He looked at the wall next to the guild entrance. Posters were plastered everywhere. One for a hunter named Renji. Another was a memorial for a noble house: Kurozawa.
"Renji... Kurozawa," he tested the name. It felt sharp. It felt like someone who didn't exist. "Yeah. Renji Kurozawa. That's me."
"Age?"
"Eighteen," he said. The two missing years had to count for something.
"Remain still for photo capture."
A blue light washed over his face. He didn't blink. Moments later, the air in front of his palm shimmered. Molecular fragments clicked together, solidifying into a cold, white piece of plastic.
He picked it up. His new face sharper, older, stared back from the card. Renji Kurozawa. Age: 18. Rank: Pending.
A small, thin smile touched his lips. It was a start.
"With this," he whispered, "I can finally get to work."