Ryder moved.
Not ran.
Not jumped.
He lunged.
His body slammed against the cave wall sideways, shadow legs digging into stone like hooks as he crawled along the vertical surface—fast, erratic, inhuman. Pebbles and chunks of rock rained down as he sprinted along the wall like a spider, closing the distance to the goblin chief in a heartbeat.
The goblin chief reacted instantly.
It thrust both palms forward.
A fireball bloomed between them—dense, compressed, roaring—and shot toward Ryder's path.
Ryder twisted.
Two shadow legs tore free from the wall, yanking his body sideways as the fireball scorched past him, detonating against the stone behind him in a deafening blast.
He dropped.
Hit the ground hard.
Before the dust even settled, the shadows behind him shifted again.
A seventh spider leg tore out from his back—longer, sharper, its tip narrowing into a lethal spike.
Ryder lunged.
The leg stretched unnaturally, extending like a spear as it shot straight for the goblin chief's skull.
At the last second—
A translucent barrier snapped into existence.
The spike slammed into a magic shield, the impact sending ripples across its surface like shattered glass that refused to break. The goblin chief snarled and leapt backward, boots cracking stone as it skidded away.
That's when hands grabbed Ryder.
Red goblins.
They swarmed in, snarling, clutching his spider legs, yanking them down, wrapping their arms around the shadow limbs and anchoring them into the ground.
Ryder didn't struggle.
Didn't scream.
He simply stared forward, jaw slack, black mist pouring from his mouth.
The goblin chief raised its arms.
Heat surged violently.
A giant fireball formed—far larger than before, spinning, screaming, its glow painting the cave walls orange.
It aimed directly at Ryder's head.
Then—
Movement.
Green.
The lone goblin ally leapt.
It slammed into the goblin chief's side, teeth sinking deep into its shoulder as it howled in defiance. The chief roared in fury, its arm jerking—
The fireball launched.
But not true.
The aim shifted downward.
Ryder's shadow legs reacted.
They sharpened.
Spikes erupted along their length.
In an instant, the shadow limbs pierced outward, skewering the red goblins holding him in place—blood splattering as their bodies dropped lifelessly to the ground.
Freed.
Ryder lunged forward.
Straight into the fire.
The explosion swallowed him whole.
Flames wrapped around his body, igniting his shirt, burning part of his face, melting flesh—yet he didn't slow.
Didn't scream.
He burst out of the inferno like a nightmare, smoke and fire trailing behind him.
The spider legs collapsed, dissolving into black mist mid-motion.
The shadows surged into his hands.
They twisted.
Condensed.
Screamed.
A massive, jagged shadow greatsword formed, its surface uneven and alive, pulsing violently as Ryder raised it with shaking, burned arms.
The goblin chief barely had time to brace.
Ryder swung.
Not clean.
Not fast.
The blade met resistance—bone, muscle, rage.
The sword sank halfway.
Ryder pushed.
His body cracked. His arms screamed. The blade trembled violently.
With a final, broken roar forced from his chest—
The head came off.
The goblin chief's body collapsed first.
Its head followed a second later, hitting the stone with a dull, final thud.
The sword dissolved.
Ryder stood there for half a second longer—
Then collapsed beside the corpse, smoke still rising from his burning clothes.
Silence returned to the cave.
Crack.
Crackle.
The sound of burning firewood pulled Ryder back from the darkness.
His eyelids twitched.
Light stabbed through his vision—orange, wavering, unstable. For a few seconds, everything was a blur, shapes melting into one another as his mind struggled to catch up with his body.
"…Ngh."
He sucked in a sharp breath and immediately regretted it.
Pain exploded through his chest like hot iron being driven straight into bone.
Ryder gritted his teeth and still forced himself upright.
His vision finally cleared.
A small fire burned in front of him, neatly arranged stones circling it. The cave walls glowed faintly from the light, shadows dancing like living things across the stone.
"What… happened…?"
His voice came out hoarse.
He rubbed his forehead as a dull headache pulsed behind his eyes. Memories surfaced in fragments—fire, shadows, screaming, blood.
His gaze dropped.
Herbs.
Crushed leaves and dark paste had been carefully spread across his chest and arms, bound in place with rough cloth.
Ryder peeled them off slowly.
Underneath—
Scars.
Long, jagged marks ran across his chest where the flaming spear had pierced him. Burn scars crawled along his arms and neck.
He stared at them without shock.
"…How am I still alive?"
He exhaled slowly.
Heavy footsteps echoed from deeper within the cave.
One.
Two.
Then dozens.
Then hundreds.
Green light pierced the darkness—glowing eyes, pulsing cracks, all moving in unison. Ryder's instincts screamed danger.
In a single motion, shadows flowed into his hand.
A katana formed.
He stood.
Then—
They knelt.
Every single goblin dropped to one knee, clubs lowered, heads bowed.
At the front stepped a massive figure.
The goblin chief.
No—something was different.
Its presence felt… heavier.
Ryder froze.
"…They're… allies?"
He looked down at the herbs. At the fire. At the careful way the cave had been arranged.
"You did this?" he asked slowly.
The goblin chief nodded.
A rush of memories slammed into Ryder's head—fire, shadows, blood, screaming. He grabbed his skull, hissing as pain flared.
"Did I…"
"…kill the goblin chief?"
Reality glitched.
A translucent screen appeared.
Goblin Chief
Lv 3
Strength: 97
Agility: 87
Speed: 5
Intelligence: 30
Magic Power: 11
Loyalty: High
"…Loyalty?"
Ryder blinked.
"So… you're not trying to kill me anymore."
He let the katana dissolve.
"Hey. You. Chief."
The goblin raised its head.
"You're smarter than the others, right?"
"Yes, Master," it replied, voice deep and rough like stone grinding against stone.
Ryder exhaled.
"…You've got a lot of explaining to do."
Minutes Later
Ryder sat quietly near the fire, staring at the floating screen before him.
Name: Ryder McKalliff
Age: 18
Strength: 89
Speed: 46
Intelligence: 53
Agility: 76
Power: 65
Energy: 1077
Class: Worker
Top right:
Skills
• Unknown Skill — Dark Overlord
• Shadow Forge Lv.5
Bottom right—
Something new.
Something that should not exist.
XP: 1000
"…Huh?"
He frowned.
"What the heck is that…?"
This wasn't part of the Worker Axiom System.
"…A system anomaly?"
He tapped it.
The world exploded into screens.
Hundreds of translucent panels spun around him, each displaying stats—his goblins. Every single one.
Ryder tapped the goblin chief's panel.
Would you like to increase stats of unknown creature?
Yes / No
"…Let's see."
Yes.
He tapped Strength.
An edit cursor appeared.
97 → 100
Save.
The goblin chief convulsed.
Green light surged through its body as raw power rippled outward. Bones cracked. Muscles expanded.
Ryder felt something else shift.
His XP dropped.
XP: 997
"Ohhh."
His lips twitched.
"So XP is used to upgrade them."
As he continued allocating points, his thoughts drifted.
This world…
There were humans once.
Now there are only monsters.
No way back. No system explanation. Nothing.
He poured points into the goblin chief.
All stats—100.
The transformation was violent.
Its body grew larger, bone-like spikes tearing from its back and elbows. Its aura thickened, overwhelming.
Goblin Chief → Goblin King
Ryder stared.
"…Yeah. That tracks."
Next—the others.
He upgraded his first three allies first.
When each stat reached 20—
They evolved.
Their bodies refined. Mana surged. A new stat appeared.
Magic Power
Each had different values.
Their green glow brightened—but not nearly as much as the Goblin King's.
When he finished, only 3 XP remained.
He tried editing his own stats.
Denied.
"…Figures."
He added one point each to his first three allies.
"Guess you guys deserve names."
He pointed.
"You're Dart."
"Firn."
"…And Buck."
They froze.
Eyes widened.
Then—
They exploded with joy.
"MASTER NAMED US—!!"
He glanced at the Goblin King.
"…You're King."
Simple. Effective.
The rest of the goblins stared at him eagerly.
"…Sorry, guys. Maybe later."
"AWWWWWWW!!"
They all cried in perfect synchrony.
Ryder leaned back against the cave wall, firelight reflecting in his tired eyes.
"…Guess I'm not alone anymore."
But deep down—
The scars still burned.
And the world that killed his family still existed.
Waiting.
Night settled over the cave.
The fire crackled softly beneath stacked firewood, its orange glow dancing across stone walls and sleeping goblins. One by one, their breathing evened out, green cracks dimming as exhaustion claimed them.
All except Ryder.
He sat cross-legged near the fire, eyes locked onto the floating system screens hovering around him—rows upon rows of translucent panels displaying goblin stats.
"…One hundred and two?" he murmured.
His brow furrowed.
"There are only a hundred goblins… and one goblin king."
That meant—
"There's one more."
He began swiping through the screens carefully, slower now. Then he saw it.
A single panel, darker than the rest.
No stats.
No name.
Just a countdown.
10… 9… 8… 7…
"What the—?"
Ryder shot to his feet and tapped it.
[ERROR]
He tapped again.
[ACCESS DENIED]
"Hey—what happens when this reaches zero?!"
The numbers kept falling.
3… 2… 1…
Pain exploded behind his eyes.
His vision fractured, skull ringing as if something had grabbed his brain and twisted. Shadows erupted beneath his feet, spreading like ink across the cave floor.
Ryder didn't even have time to scream.
The ground vanished.
He fell.
Dart's eyes snapped open.
The goblin lifted its head just in time to see the shadows collapse inward where Ryder had been sitting.
Gone.
Dart stared for a long moment.
"…Huh."
It scratched its head, shrugged, and lay back down.
The fire crackled on.
Ryder slammed onto cold concrete.
He hit bottom-first, rolling as he crashed out of a black portal embedded in a brick wall. The portal snapped shut instantly, leaving nothing but silence behind.
"Ow—!"
He groaned, clutching his side as he pushed himself upright.
"What… just happened?"
He looked up.
Skyscrapers.
Holographic advertisements floating between buildings.
Neon lights reflecting off rain-soaked streets.
"…No way."
His breath caught.
"I'm back?"
He raised his wrist instinctively.
"Status."
The familiar blue hologram appeared.
All his stats—unchanged.
Shadow Forge. Dark Overlord. Everything still there.
"So… the countdown lets me return."
He let out a shaky breath, rain beginning to fall harder.
"…I thought I was going to die."
The alley was dark, damp, and smelled like rust and wet concrete. Ryder stepped out onto the street—and immediately felt eyes on him.
People walked past holding umbrellas, slowing as they glanced at him.
Torn clothes. Dirt-streaked skin. Dried blood.
Someone whispered.
Another stared a little too long.
Then Ryder saw it.
Giant screens mounted on buildings, flashing breaking news.
WANTED: RYDER MCKALLIFF
DEAD OR ALIVE
BOUNTY: 100,000 SILVER PIECES
His heart slammed into his ribs.
"…I'm finished."
Images scrolled—his face, his home, his mother's name.
His legs moved on instinct.
Walk. Don't run. Not yet.
But whispers followed.
"Doesn't he look like—" "Hey, isn't that—" "Wait—!"
Ryder turned a corner.
Then another.
Thunder rumbled overhead.
Rain poured down harder.
He broke into a run.
"HEY! IT'S HIM!"
Footsteps chased him.
Shouts rose.
But the city was crowded, chaotic—and Ryder vanished into it.
"Where'd he go?!"
"Damn it!"
Ryder crouched atop the flatbed of a moving truck, rain soaking him to the bone.
He sat perfectly still, legs crossed, breathing slow—almost meditative.
His sapphire eyes glowed faintly beneath the storm clouds.
"…Dad."
The word felt strange on his tongue.
"Where did Mom say he lived again…?"
His gaze drifted toward distant districts.
"Burrin Section."
He glanced at the truck's direction and nodded slightly.
"…Good."
Rain streamed down his face as the city lights blurred past.
"I'll ride this out," he murmured.
"Figure things out."
"Stay alive."
The truck rolled onward into the night.
Three Days Later
Ding dong.
Ding dong.
Ding—
"—I'M COMING!"
A man with messy black hair and sapphire eyes jolted awake, veins popping on his forehead as the doorbell continued its merciless assault.
Beside him, a half-asleep woman rolled over, burying her face into the pillow.
"Dean… go get it…" she mumbled.
"Yeah, yeah—before I rip the damn thing off the wall."
Dean dragged himself out of bed, pulling on his pants as the bell rang again.
"I SWEAR, IF YOU RING THAT ONE MORE TIME—!"
He stormed toward the door, yanking it open with murder in his eyes, fully prepared to beat the living daylights out of whoever stood on the other side.
And froze.
A young man stood there calmly.
Black cap pulled low.
Black T-shirt.
Black jeans.
Rainwater dripped quietly from the brim of his hat.
Cool. Composed.
Sapphire eyes—just like his.
"…Hi, Dean," Ryder said, a faint, almost cocky smile on his lips.
Dean's breath caught.
"…Get in."
He grabbed Ryder by the shoulder and yanked him inside, slamming the door shut behind them.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean demanded, eyes sharp.
Ryder tilted his head.
"Wow. Not even a 'long time no see'?"
"Why. Are you. Here?" Dean repeated, his tone hardening.
Ryder's smile thinned.
"I'm sure you've heard the news."
Dean's jaw clenched.
"…Your mom. Your sister."
"Yeah," Ryder replied quietly. "I'm the only one left."
A beat.
"And I'm wanted dead," Ryder continued, voice steady. "With nowhere else to go."
He met Dean's eyes.
"I need your help."
"And a place to stay."
Then—almost mockingly—
"I thought… who better than my loving dad?"
Dean snapped.
He grabbed Ryder by the collar and slammed him against the wall, forearm pressed against his throat.
"If you think I'm letting a wanted criminal into my home," Dean snarled, "then you've lost your damn mind."
Ryder didn't struggle.
Didn't flinch.
"You don't have a choice," he said calmly.
Dean's eyes widened slightly.
"If they catch me," Ryder continued, voice cold, "I'll tell them everything."
"What you do for a living."
"That you knew about Lizzy."
"That you were her father… and still chose to stay quiet."
Dean's grip tightened.
"You little piece of—"
"Dean?"
A woman stepped into the hallway.
She wore jeans and an oversized shirt—nothing else. Sleep still clung to her voice as she looked between them curiously.
Both men turned.
"Well," Ryder said, glancing her up and down, "you moved on fast."
Dean released Ryder instantly.
"Haha—no, no," he laughed awkwardly, patting Ryder's back hard. "This is our roommate."
Then, after a pause—
"…He's my son."
Ryder straightened, smile returning instantly.
"Yep. Nice to meet you," he said politely.
Her eyes lit up.
"Awww! Dean's son is my son too!" she exclaimed, wrapping Ryder in a sudden hug. "Make yourself at home, okay?"
Ryder smiled—genuine this time.
"Oh," he said softly, eyes glinting.
"I will."
"Follow me."
Dean turned toward the massive shelf lining the wall.
Ryder followed without a word.
Dean scanned the books, fingers brushing past their spines before stopping on one worn volume. He pulled.
Click.
The shelf rumbled.
Panels slid apart, revealing a narrow, dark passage hidden behind it.
Ryder raised an eyebrow. "Of course you have one of these."
Dean stepped in. "Close your mouth and move."
They entered.
The door sealed behind them with a muted thud.
The room beyond looked like a cross between a mechanic's workshop and a black-market lab.
Tools lined the walls—blades, scanners, drones, dismantled weapons, glowing interfaces. The scent of oil and metal filled the air.
Dean grabbed a chair and dragged it across the floor.
"Sit."
Ryder sat.
Dean reached under the table and pulled out a barbering machine.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZT.
The sharp mechanical buzz filled the room.
Ryder stiffened. "What are you doing?"
Dean grinned—wide, cruel, satisfied.
"I've wanted to cut that dumb hair your mother forced on you for years."
He stepped closer, machine humming louder.
"Oh, I'm going to enjoy this."
—Cut—
Dean sat back, arms crossed, waiting.
"All right," he called lazily.
"You can come out now."
A section of machinery hissed open.
Ryder stepped forward.
No—
Jake stepped forward.
Messy hair was gone—replaced by a curly, layered undercut, sharp and clean.
His presence felt heavier. Colder.
Thick black-pattern tattoos ran from his left wrist up his arm, crawling past his shoulder and peeking just beneath his neck.
Silver piercings glinted on both ears.
Same face.
Completely different aura.
Ryder clicked his tongue. "Is this okay now?"
Dean stared for a long moment.
"…Yeah," he said slowly.
"Now comes the hard part."
Dean connected a cable from his computer to Ryder's axiom bracelet. Screens lit up instantly—data streams flooding the interface.
"You can't exist as Ryder anymore," Dean said. "New identity. New records. New class."
He paused. "You got a name?"
Ryder's fingers moved faster than Dean's.
"I'll handle it."
Dean stepped back. "Do whatever you want."
Identity: Rewritten
Name: Jake Anders
Class: Fighter
When it was done, Jake lifted his head.
"Status."
The screen appeared.
Not a worker's interface.
A fighter's.
Advanced. Dense. Dangerous.
Name: Jake Anders
Age: 19
Rank: D
Strength: 97
Speed: 46
Agility: 69
Stamina: 80
Intelligence: 47
Health: 145 / 200
Class: Fighter
Level: 4
Skills:
• Shadow Forge
• Unknown Skill — Dark Overlord
Title: None
XP: 0 Points
Dean exploded.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
He pointed at the screen.
"You changed your class to fighter?! Are you insane?! You're supposed to be laying low—not putting yourself in front of millions of people who want you dead!"
Jake didn't even blink.
"If I'm going to change things," he said calmly,
"I can't do it as a worker."
His eyes hardened.
"I can't avenge them as a worker."
A pause.
"I'm going to kill them all," Jake continued quietly,
"or die trying."
The certainty in his voice sent a chill down Dean's spine.
Dean exhaled sharply.
"…I'll admit it. You're strong."
Then his tone sharpened.
"But you're still just a D-rank. You won't even pass the preliminary stages. The tournament starts in a week—you don't have enough time to train."
Jake turned away from the screen.
"Let me worry about that."
He looked back at Dean.
"You just work as my manager."
Dean scoffed. "Like hell I will."
He turned to leave.
"I'll give you the rewards from every battle I win."
Dean stopped mid-step.
Silence.
"…You didn't have to wait this long to say that," Dean said, smiling as he turned back.