Drunik woke to his alarm blaring at 6:00 AM, the sound drilling into his skull like a pickaxe.
For one blissful moment, he didn't remember.
Then it all came crashing back: the arena, the laughter, his father's retreating back, the black light, the skill description that promised nothing except death.
Upon death, manifest the instrument, concept, or force of demise as a permanent weapon or ability.
He pulled up his status window. Still the same. Still mocking him with its emptiness.
---
[STATUS]
NAME: Drunik Loz
AGE: 19
RANK: Unranked
SKILL: Death Armament (???)
DEATHS: 0
ARMAMENTS UNLOCKED: 0
---
Today was official ranking day. All ten thousand awakeners would report to the Guild Federation Headquarters to receive their formal hunter licenses, rank certifications, and—for the lucky ones—guild offers.
Drunik dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water did nothing to wash away the dread coiling in his stomach.
What if no guild wants me? What if I'm declared ineligible? What if they just... reject me entirely?
He dressed in the required formal attire—simple black suit, white shirt, the kind of thing you wore to funerals—and found his mother already awake in the kitchen, making breakfast.
"Morning, sweetheart." Elena's smile was forced but warm. "Eat something. You'll need your strength today."
"Not hungry."
"Eat anyway."
Drunik sat and mechanically consumed eggs and toast while his mother fussed around the kitchen, clearly trying to distract herself from her own anxiety.
His father was nowhere to be seen. Probably already left for work, unable to face his failure of a son.
"Mom," Drunik said quietly. "What if they don't rank me at all?"
Elena stopped washing dishes. "Then we figure something else out."
"Like what?"
She turned to face him, and her expression was fierce. "Like anything that doesn't involve you giving up. You hear me? No matter what happens today, you don't give up."
Drunik wanted to argue, to point out that giving up might be the smart choice when your skill literally required dying. But the determination in his mother's eyes stopped him.
"Okay," he said instead. "I won't give up."
At least not yet.
The Guild Federation Headquarters occupied an entire city block in central Nexus City. The building was a masterpiece of modern architecture—crystalline towers that caught sunlight and refracted it into rainbow patterns, with the Federation's seal (a sword crossed with a shield, surrounded by stars) emblazoned above the main entrance.
Drunik arrived at 8:30 AM as instructed, joining the flood of newly-awakened candidates streaming through the massive doors. Everyone was dressed formally, faces ranging from excited to nervous to smugly confident.
Inside, the main hall was enormous—easily three stories tall, with floating projection screens displaying directions and information. Hundreds of Federation staff members in official uniforms directed traffic, checking identification, pointing candidates toward appropriate queues.
"ALL F-RANK CANDIDATES PROCEED TO HALL A!"
"E-RANK TO HALL B!"
"D-RANK TO HALL C!"
And so on, all the way up to S-rank, which apparently got their own private suite on the top floor.
Drunik looked for the Unranked designation and found... nothing.
He approached a harried-looking staff member—a middle-aged woman with a tablet and an expression that suggested she'd rather be anywhere else.
"Excuse me," Drunik said. "Where do Unranked candidates go?"
The woman looked up, started to answer automatically, then actually processed what he'd said. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Unranked?" She checked her tablet, scrolling rapidly. "I... there's no designation for Unranked. Are you sure that's what you awakened as?"
"I'm sure." Drunik pulled up his status window and showed her. "See? Unranked. Where do I go?"
The woman stared at the window, then at him, clearly out of her depth. "I... I need to check with my supervisor. Wait here."
She hurried off, leaving Drunik standing in the middle of the crowded hall while other candidates flowed around him like water around a stone.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Finally, the woman returned with an older man in a more ornate uniform—some kind of administrator, based on the gold trim and multiple badges.
"You're the Unranked?" the man asked without preamble.
"Drunik Loz, sir."
The administrator consulted his own tablet, frowning. "There's no protocol for this. Unranked isn't a category in our system."
"So what do I do?"
"Give me a moment." The administrator tapped away at his tablet, occasionally muttering to himself. Other candidates were starting to stare, whispering to each other. Drunik recognized a few faces from yesterday's ceremony—people who were probably enjoying his continued humiliation.
Finally, the administrator looked up. "Alright. You'll be processed separately. Follow me."
Drunik was led away from the main halls, down a side corridor, to a small office that looked like it was normally used for storage. A single desk, two chairs, harsh fluorescent lighting.
"Wait here," the administrator said. "Someone will be with you shortly."
Then he left.
Drunik sat in the uncomfortable chair and waited.
And waited.
An hour passed. He could hear the muffled sounds of other candidates being processed—cheers, congratulations, excited voices discussing guild offers.
Finally, the door opened.
A young woman entered—maybe mid-twenties, professional attire, carrying a folder that looked disappointingly thin. She sat across from him without smiling.
"Drunik Loz?"
"That's me."
"I'm Administrator Chen. I'll be handling your case." She opened the folder. "Your awakening was... unusual."
"That's one word to say it in a nice way."
Chen didn't react to his sarcasm. "The Guild Federation has never encountered an Unranked skill before. We've spent the last eighteen hours trying to determine how to classify you."
"And?"
"And we've concluded that without a standard grade, we cannot place you in the normal hunter ranking system. You don't meet minimum requirements for F-rank certification."
Drunik's stomach dropped. "So I can't be a hunter?"
"I didn't say that." Chen pulled a document from the folder. "We're offering you a provisional license. Unranked status with restricted privileges."
She slid the document across the desk. Drunik read it quickly, his heart sinking with each line:
PROVISIONAL HUNTER LICENSE
NAME: Drunik Loz
RANK: Unranked (Provisional)
STATUS: Restricted
PERMITTED ACTIVITIES:
F-rank dungeon entry (supervised only) Guild support roles (non-combat) Equipment maintenance Resource gathering
PROHIBITED ACTIVITIES:
Solo dungeon entry Rank advancement testing Guild leadership positions Military service High-value contracts
RESTRICTIONS:
Must remain within Nexus City jurisdiction Monthly status reviews required License revocable at Federation discretion
NOTE: This is not a standard hunter license. Holder is not eligible for Federation benefits, insurance, or protection protocols.
"This is..." Drunik searched for words. "This is basically saying I can't do anything."
"It's saying you can work as a hunter, but with appropriate oversight given your unproven abilities."
"I can only enter F-rank dungeons with supervision. Those are basically training grounds for children."
Chen's expression remained professionally neutral. "The Federation has a responsibility to maintain safety standards. Your skill is unproven and potentially dangerous. Until you can demonstrate its functionality, these restrictions remain in place."
"How am I supposed to demonstrate my skill if you won't let me use it?"
"That's not my concern, Mr. Loz. Do you accept the provisional license, or shall we terminate this process?"
Drunik stared at the document. Every instinct screamed at him to refuse, to tell them to take their conditional license and shove it.
But refusing meant no license at all. No legal dungeon entry. No path forward whatsoever.
Beggars can't be choosers.
"I accept," he said through gritted teeth.
Chen produced a pen. "Sign here, here, and initial here."
Drunik signed. Each stroke of the pen felt like another nail in the coffin of his dreams.
"Congratulations," Chen said without a trace of sincerity. "You're now a provisional hunter. Your identification card will be ready in three days. Pick it up from the main desk."
She stood, clearly ready to be done with him.
"Wait," Drunik said. "What about guild offers?"
Chen paused at the door. "Guild offers are based on grade and skill classification. You have neither." She softened slightly. "There are some guilds that accept... unconventional candidates. Check the job board in the main hall. Good luck, Mr. Loz."
Then she was gone.
Drunik sat alone in the storage-office, holding his signed provisional license, and felt the last of his hope die.
The main hall's job board was a massive digital display that updated in real-time as guilds posted recruitment offers. Drunik stood before it, watching opportunities scroll past that he'd never qualify for:
IRON FANG GUILD seeks B-rank or higher combat specialists. Competitive salary, benefits, advancement opportunities. Minimum requirements: B-rank certification, combat-class skill, 2+ successful dungeon clears.
AZURE PHOENIX SYNDICATE hiring A-rank supports and healers. Premium compensation package. Must have Epic or higher skill rating.
STONEHEART LEGION recruiting for elite squad. S-rank candidates only. Apply in person with credentials and combat footage.
On and on it went. Hundreds of offers for A-ranks, B-ranks, even C-ranks. Solid positions with good guilds.
Drunik scrolled down, past the premium offers, past the mid-tier positions, all the way to the bottom of the board where the dregs lived.
And there, buried beneath everything else, he found it:
SCAVENGER GUILD
Accepting all ranks. No skill requirements. No experience necessary.
Position: General Labor / Dungeon Support
Duties: Equipment hauling, resource gathering, cleanup operations, general assistance
Compensation: Split of salvage proceeds (percentage based on contribution)
Contact: Guild Hall, Lower District, Block 7
"Everyone deserves a chance. Even the hopeless ones."
Drunik stared at the listing.
The Scavenger Guild. He'd heard of them—everyone had. They were the absolute bottom of hunter society. The guild you joined when no one else would have you. They didn't clear dungeons; they followed other guilds in afterward and picked through the scraps. Broken equipment, monster corpses for materials, anything that could be sold for a few coins.
It was dangerous, degrading work for pathetic pay.
It was also the only offer he qualified for.
Everyone deserves a chance, the listing said. Even the hopeless ones.
The words felt like a punch to the gut.
"Are you seriously considering the Scavengers?"
Drunik turned to find a familiar face—the blonde girl from yesterday's ceremony. She was holding an official hunter license, proudly displaying her C-rank certification.
"None of your business," Drunik said.
"Fair enough." She glanced at the board. "I just got an offer from Windsteep Guild. C-rank starting position, but with advancement potential. Not bad for Uncommon skill."
"Congratulations."
"Thanks." She hesitated. "Look, I'm not trying to be cruel, but... the Scavengers? That's basically giving up. You'd be better off getting a normal job. Office work or something."
"I said it's none of your business."
The girl shrugged. "Your funeral. Good luck, I guess."
She walked away, leaving Drunik alone with his decision.
The Scavengers, or nothing.
A chance to at least enter dungeons and maybe—MAYBE—find a way to test my skill, or give up entirely and work retail for the rest of my life.
Some choice.
He pulled out his phone and saved the contact information for Scavenger Guild.
Then he left the Federation Headquarters, walked three blocks to a public transit station, and took the train toward the Lower District.
The Lower District was exactly as depressing as Drunik expected.
Where the central city was all crystalline towers and clean streets, the Lower District was crumbling concrete and perpetual shadow. Buildings leaned against each other like drunks. Trash accumulated in corners. The people here had the worn-down look of those who'd given up on ever climbing higher.
Block 7 was particularly grim—a collection of warehouse conversions and makeshift structures that probably violated a dozen building codes.
The Scavenger Guild occupied what looked like a former factory. Rusted metal walls, broken windows patched with boards, a hand-painted sign that simply read "SCAVENGERS" in faded letters.
Drunik pushed open the door.
Inside was chaos.
The main room was packed with equipment in various states of disrepair—cracked armor, dented shields, weapons with broken hafts. People in mismatched gear moved between piles of salvage, sorting, repairing, arguing about value. The air smelled like metal, sweat, and desperation.
"Help you?"
Drunik turned to find a massive man—easily six and a half feet tall, scarred face, arms like tree trunks—looking at him with mild curiosity.
"I'm here about the job listing."
The man's expression shifted to something like pity. "Awakening didn't go well, huh?"
"Something like that."
"Name's Brick. Guild master, for what that's worth." He offered a hand the size of a dinner plate. Drunik shook it, trying not to wince at the crushing grip. "What'd you get?"
"Unranked. Death Armament."
Brick's eyebrows rose. "Unranked? Didn't know that was possible."
"Neither did I."
"Death Armament." Brick tested the name. "What's it do?"
"I..." Drunik hesitated. How much should he reveal? "I gain weapons when I die."
"When you die."
"Yeah."
"So you gotta die first?"
"Apparently."
Brick stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing—a deep, booming sound that made others in the room look over.
"Oh, that's rich! The Awakening Stone gave you a skill that needs you to die! That's the most useless—" He caught himself at Drunik's expression. "Sorry. That's rough, kid. Really rough."
"Can I have the job or not?"
Brick wiped his eyes. "Yeah, you can have it. We don't turn anyone away. Long as you can carry equipment and don't mind getting dirty, you're hired."
"What's the pay?"
"Like the listing says—split of salvage. We go into dungeons after they're cleared, gather whatever's left, sell it, split the proceeds. Your share depends on your contribution." He pulled out a worn tablet. "Standard contract. You get 5% of whatever you personally salvage, plus 1% of team totals. Medical is your own responsibility. No benefits. No insurance. Guild membership costs 50 credits a month."
"I have to PAY to work here?"
"Guild hall doesn't run on goodwill, kid. Fifty credits covers your locker, equipment storage, and administrative fees. Take it or leave it."
Drunik thought about his bank account. He had maybe 300 credits to his name—money saved from part-time jobs. At 50 credits a month, he'd last six months if he didn't earn anything.
And if I don't take this, I have nothing.
"I'll take it."
"Smart choice." Brick pulled up a contract on his tablet. "Sign here. You start tomorrow. 6 AM. Don't be late—we leave for salvage runs at 6:30 sharp."
Drunik signed another contract that felt like defeat.
"Welcome to the Scavengers, kid." Brick clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. "Try not to die in your first week. It's bad for morale."
The irony wasn't lost on Drunik.
He spent the rest of the day walking through Nexus City in a daze, trying to process how completely his life had collapsed in under 24 hours.
Yesterday: a candidate full of hope, dreaming of S-rank glory.
Today: a provisional hunter with a useless skill, working for the bottom-tier guild in the city, earning scraps.
His phone buzzed. A message from Finn Locke, the healer from yesterday's ceremony:
FINN: Hey Drunik. Heard about your ranking. That sucks. If you need someone to talk to, let me know.
At least someone was being decent.
DRUNIK: Thanks. I'm okay. Just figuring out next steps.
FINN: I got accepted to Verdant Guild as a support healer. C-rank position. Not great, but not terrible.
DRUNIK: Congratulations.
FINN: Thanks. Hey, there's a gathering tonight for new hunters. Networking thing. You should come. Might meet useful people.
Drunik almost declined immediately. The last thing he wanted was to be surrounded by successful awakeners celebrating their futures while he had nothing.
But then he remembered: Seraphina Light.
She'd be at something like that, wouldn't she? S-rank Legendary healer—she'd definitely be networking, meeting guild leaders, being courted by everyone who mattered.
If he wanted to get close to her, he needed to start somewhere.
DRUNIK: Where and when?
FINN: Azure Hall, 7 PM. Semi-formal. Just show up, mingle, try to make connections.
DRUNIK: I'll be there.
Azure Hall was in the upper district—far from the Lower District slums where Drunik had spent his afternoon. He went home first, showered, changed into his only decent suit (the same one from this morning), and tried to make himself look less like someone whose life was falling apart.
His mother found him at the bathroom mirror, attempting to fix his hair.
"Going somewhere?"
"Networking event. For new hunters."
Elena's face lit up. "That's wonderful! Maybe you'll meet someone who can help."
"Maybe." Drunik didn't mention his real goal. Finding Seraphina and somehow convincing her to use her resurrection skill on him seemed too desperate to say aloud.
"You look handsome." Elena adjusted his collar. "Remember—you're just as valuable as any of them. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise."
I'm not, though, Drunik thought but didn't say. I'm Unranked. I'm at the bottom. And everyone knows it.
"Thanks, Mom."
He left before she could see the doubt in his eyes.
Azure Hall was exactly the kind of place Drunik expected—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, servers in formal attire circulating with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. The main ballroom was packed with newly-awakened hunters, guild representatives, and various hangers-on hoping to attach themselves to rising stars.
Drunik felt immediately out of place.
Everyone here was glowing with success. B-ranks discussing guild offers. A-ranks being courted by multiple organizations. Even the C-ranks looked confident, knowing they had solid futures ahead.
And then there was Drunik. Unranked. Provisional license. Working for the Scavenger Guild.
He grabbed a drink from a passing server—something that tasted expensive—and tried to blend into the crowd.
"—heard Phoenix Syndicate offered her 200,000 credits signing bonus—"
"—the Legendary healer? She's somewhere here tonight—"
"—can't believe someone awakened Unranked. What does that even mean—"
Drunik moved away from that last conversation quickly.
He spent twenty minutes circulating through the crowd, half-listening to conversations, searching faces for the one he needed to find.
Then he saw her.
Seraphina Light stood near the center of the ballroom, surrounded by at least a dozen people—guild leaders, representatives, other hunters. She looked overwhelmed, smiling politely but with the slightly glazed expression of someone who'd been talking for hours and wanted nothing more than to escape.
Her skill description had called it "Divine Restoration." Legendary grade. S-rank.
She could resurrect the dead within 30 seconds.
She was Drunik's only chance.
How do I even approach her? he wondered. What do I say? "Hi, I'm the guy everyone laughed at. Want to be friends so you can bring me back from death later?"
While he was trying to formulate a plan, the crowd around Seraphina shifted. People were pulling her toward a private area—probably more important conversations, more valuable networking.
She's leaving. I'm losing my chance.
Drunik started forward, not sure what he was going to do, just knowing he couldn't let her disappear—
And walked straight into someone.
"Watch it!" A tall boy with expensive clothing glared at him. "Some of us are trying to—wait. You're the Unranked kid."
Several nearby conversations stopped.
"I..." Drunik tried to move past, but the boy shifted to block him.
"What are you even doing here? This is for real hunters."
"I have a provisional license."
"Provisional." The boy laughed. "That's what they give failures who can't make F-rank. You shouldn't even be allowed in here."
More people were paying attention now. Drunik could feel the weight of their stares, hear the whispered comments.
"Excuse me," Drunik said firmly. "I need to—"
"You need to leave," the boy interrupted. "Before you embarrass yourself more than you already have."
Drunik's hands clenched into fists. Every instinct screamed at him to punch this smug bastard in the face.
But that would just prove everyone right—that he was a failure, a joke, someone who didn't belong.
"I was just leaving," Drunik said quietly.
He turned and walked away, face burning with humiliation, while the boy's laughter followed him.
So much for networking.
Outside, Drunik leaned against the building's marble exterior and tried to calm his racing heart.
Useless. The evening was useless. I didn't even get close to Seraphina.
His phone buzzed. Finn, probably wondering where he was.
But when Drunik checked, it was an unknown number:
UNKNOWN: Saw what happened in there. That guy's an asshole.
Drunik frowned. Who was this?
DRUNIK: Who is this?
UNKNOWN: Someone who knows what it's like to be looked down on. Meet me at Riverside Park, east entrance. 20 minutes.
DRUNIK: Why?
UNKNOWN: Because I might be able to help with your little problem. Your DEADLY problem.
Drunik's blood ran cold.
Someone knew. Someone had figured it out.
He should ignore this. Go home. Play it safe.
But safety had gotten him nowhere. Safety had left him with a useless skill and a bottom-tier guild and no future.
What do I have to lose?
He started walking toward Riverside Park.