The Principal arrived at the scene, and the crowd’s anger cooled almost instantly, voices dropping into a respectful hush as he passed through them. Even the shopkeeper, still rubbing at his throat, straightened up and lowered his eyes.
They came at him all at once after that complaints, accusations, demands, everyone talking over everyone else, all of it circling back to the same point.
Make a decision. Decide what happens to the boy.
The Principal let them finish. Then he looked out over the crowd, his magnified eye unreadable behind the glass.
"Tell me something," he said, voice calm but carrying easily over the murmurs. "Are you pressuring me into a decision or is it that none of you actually trust my judgment?"
The crowd faltered. Nobody seemed to have an answer for that.
"No, sir, it’s just..." someone started, then trailed off, unable to finish the sentence under his stare.
The Principal said nothing further. He didn’t need to.
Somewhere far from the noise of the street, Hasib’s eyes opened onto familiar darkness.
...What happened to me?
A translucent screen flickered into existence in front of him, cold blue script scrolling into place.
[SYSTEM TASK
[TASK 1 — Stretching]
[TASK 2 — Running]
[TASK 3 — Movement & Posture]
Hasib let out a slow breath.
Right. Straight back into this, then.
He almost laughed.
Honestly... better than whatever’s waiting for me out there.
He made his way toward the training space, and the threads were already waiting for him, drifting faintly in the air like they’d been expecting him. The moment he stepped close, they moved snapping around his shirt first and yanking it clean off in one motion before he’d even registered what was happening.
"H-hey! A little warning would be !"
The threads didn’t answer. They simply tightened, wrapping around his wrists and ankles and hauling him into position, and this time the stretch was worse than befor far worse, joints and muscles pulled past anything they’d been asked to endure yesterday.
"AAAAGH...!"
He gritted his teeth against the scream trying to tear its way out of him, sweat already beading along his hairline.
Fine. Fine...I’ll take it. I’ll take all of it if I have to.
I’m not going to spend my life being a Warrior in name only. You hear me, Rocky?
"Auuh...! Easy...just, ease up a little!"
The threads gave no indication of caring.
By the time the final stretch released him, Hasib was on his knees, breathing hard, hands trembling as he reached for his pants’ belt and fumbled it back into place.
A soft chime sounded.[TASK 1 COMPLETE]
[REWARD: GREEN BOX]
He cracked the box open without much enthusiasm, already half-expecting what he’d find inside.
Of course. Boiled mushrooms and juice. Again.
He ate it anyway, forcing it down without complaint, the familiar warmth spreading through his chest exactly as it had the last time.
Another chime.
[TASK 2 — RUNNING]
Hasib rolled his shoulders, pushed himself back onto his feet, and exhaled.
"...Let’s go, then."
The ground beneath him shifted, and he found himself back in the same rolling terrain as before except this time it opened into something far larger. A vast, flat field stretched out in every direction, endless as far as he could see.
Then the earth began to shake.
Massive spherical shapes rose into view all around him, huge and round, rumbling as they gathered speed. The moment the nearest one closed the distance, Hasib’s legs were already moving on instinct, sprinting before his mind had fully caught up.
If it had only been one, he might have managed something like a plan. But the field had no visible edge, and neither did the number of spheres bearing down on him from every direction at once, each one arriving from a different, unpredictable angle.
What is this?! How am I supposed to know which way is even safe?!
He ran straight until one loomed ahead, then cut right. Glanced back, cut left. Sometimes three separate paths closed off at once, forcing him into whatever gap remained. Twice, two spheres collided directly behind him with a bone-rattling crash, and he used the half-second of chaos to bolt straight through the opening they left behind.
A cold notification flickered at the edge of his vision.
[59s — DANGER MODE: ON]
The spheres surged faster, and jagged spikes tore outward from their surfaces as they rolled, turning every near-miss into something that could actually kill him.
Oh, come on now it’s like this?!
A spike caught his shoulder in a glancing hit, tearing through fabric and skin alike. Another grazed his calf. Blood welled along both wounds, but he didn’t dare slow down to look at them. For one terrifying stretch he found himself boxed in on three sides, spheres closing from every angle with nowhere left to run...
[5s]
The countdown hit zero a heartbeat before impact, and the spheres scattered apart just as suddenly as they’d appeared, leaving him standing, breathless, alive.
Hasib dragged a hand across his sweat-soaked forehead and let out a long, shaking breath.
[CONGRATULATIONS! TASK 2 COMPLETE]
[REWARD: SPEED +0.25%]
[REWARD: HEALING KIT]
He turned the small vial over in his hands. "...Ow. Yeah, I need this. How does it even work?"
A single word blinked beside it.
[APPLY]
He pressed his thumb against the vial, and warmth spread instantly through his chest, a soft green glow washing over the cuts along his shoulder and leg. He watched, almost mesmerized, as the torn skin knit itself back together in seconds.
[EFFECT DURATION: 15 MINUTES]
"...Okay. That’s actually incredible."
[TASK 3 — START NOW]
"Posture and movement, huh." Hasib exhaled and rolled his neck. "Fine."
The field reshaped itself into a sea of stone blocks, stretching out ahead of him in every direction, each one just wide enough to stand on. He found himself already balanced on the first.
"Guess there’s only one way to go."
He leapt forward onto the next block and the moment his foot touched down, it lurched upward beneath him, rising several feet into the air on its own.
"Whoa hey, what is his now "
[ALERT MODE: ACTIVE]
Sharp spikes began raining down from above without warning. Hasib threw himself sideways, scrambling from block to block as the ground itself turned against him sometimes the block ahead surged upward, sometimes the one beside him, sometimes, worst of all, the very one he was standing on.
A spike caught him square in the back.
"AGH...!"
Pain lanced through him, sharp and immediate, but there was no time to stop, no time to even process it. He staggered forward onto the next block anyway.
The healing kit. It has to still be working...
It was. Warmth spread from the wound almost instantly, the torn skin sealing itself closed even as the spike that had caused it clattered harmlessly off the block behind him.
[2 MIN]
[DANGER MODE]
"Hey what’s the actual plan here?!" he shouted at no one in particular, twisting his body mid-leap to dodge another spike by inches.
There wasn’t a plan. There was only movement turning, dodging, leaping however his body could manage, spikes falling like rain around him, catching him in small, stinging scratches that the lingering healing effect closed almost as fast as they opened.
Then, all at once, it stopped.
[TIME UP]
[TASK COMPLETE]
Hasib dropped straight down onto the nearest block, chest heaving, arms braced against his knees.
[CONGRATULATIONS — TASK COMPLETE]
[REWARD: RED BOX ]
[Leg Armor]
[REWARD: BLUE BOX ]
[Speed +0.25%, Strength +0.25%]
"...Not bad," he mumbled between breaths.
A small arrow-shaped icon caught his eye, pulsing gently at the edge of the reward screen. He frowned at it.
"...What’s this?"
[OPEN]
His eyes went wide.
[YOU HAVE UNLOCKED: BEGINNER’S BLACK NATURE SWORD]
Hasib stared at the words, breath catching in his throat.
So that’s what it was, then. That day at the metal table... It wasn’t a failure at all.
His eyes opened for real this time, and he was breathing hard, chest rising and falling too fast for someone who’d been lying still.
He was back in his own room. Someone had tidied it and the noodle cups and wrappers that usually littered the floor were gone, the small table cleared.
The door creaked open, and Yamin Sir stepped inside.
"You’re awake."
"Sorry, sir." Hasib pushed himself upright, wincing. "I don’t know what happened to me today. I wasn’t in control of it."
"It’s fine." Yamin Sir’s voice was even, unbothered. "But don’t let it happen again. You need to keep yourself in check. People don’t see the truth of a thing they only see what’s put in front of them."
Somewhere outside, a sharp eagle’s cry cut through the evening air.
"I have to go." He turned toward the window. "Take care of yourself."
And then he was gone, slipping through the frame and out into the dark.
Hasib sat there a while longer, turning the thought over in his mind.
A black sword. My own.
...What does that even look like?
He got up eventually, washed his clothes for the next day, and hung them to dry.
By the time he stepped outside, the whispers hadn’t stopped people at the edges of the street still murmuring as he passed, glances lingering a beat too long. He didn’t slow down to acknowledge any of it, walking straight past with his eyes fixed ahead, toward the one place in the city that still felt like it hadn’t changed its opinion of him.
The restaurant was a small wooden building tucked between two larger shops, a hand-painted sign swinging gently above the door:
SINBAD’S GENIE FOOD.
Inside, a white-bearded man in a tall chef’s hat greeted him with a booming, larger-than-life laugh.
"Ahh make your food wish!" He waved a ladle grandly through the air, then squinted at Hasib, his grin softening slightly. "Hey, kid. Something happened to you today?"
Hasib said nothing.
"Alright, alright." The man raised both hands. "You don’t have to talk about it now."
Just then, a woman emerged from the kitchen late twenties, dressed in a cook’s apron, balancing a large pot of something rich and fragrant against her hip.
"Ohh, would you look at that," she said, grinning. "Our little legend has arrived."
"Are you making fun of me, Layla?"
"Enough, enough," the old man cut in, waving her toward Hasib’s table. "I’ll handle the customers. You take care of our legend."
Layla set the pot down with a soft laugh. "Yes, Mr. Jin."
She crossed to Hasib’s table and, without any warning at all, cupped both his cheeks in her hands, tilting his face up to meet hers.
"Look at me. Don’t I look absolutely stunning today?"
"No," Hasib said flatly. "There’s only one person who’s the most beautiful."
Layla let go of his face with an exaggerated groan, flinging her head back. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Sara." She made a mocking little face, then reached over and ladled a generous scoop from the pot. "Tell me honestly am I prettier, or is Sara? I already know your tricks, so don’t think I came over here just to feed you."
Right on cue, his stomach growled, loud enough for both of them to hear.