The World Is a Class Society
The world is a class society. No matter how the era changes, classes never disappear. Bloodline, status, ability, wealth... the criteria shift, but human society has never been without them. Before the Dungeon Incident, they called it spoon theory. Gold spoon, silver spoon, bronze spoon. And dirt spoon. In this era, I was firmly in the dirt spoon class.
After the Dungeon Incident and the emergence of the Guardian Tower, the two most crucial factors for success boiled down to just these: mana and Unique Ability. Whether you were born with them or not determined your life's tier.
The New Daehan Republic, rebuilt by superhumans after the Dungeon Incident, assigned ranks to every single person. In the New Daehan Republic, the highest value was killing monsters to protect humanity. Mana, which shattered human limits, and innate Unique Abilities were the ultimate talents needed to climb the ranks—more important than anything else.
But even though both my parents were Awakeners, I never awakened mana. Waste-grade mana aptitude. That was the official diagnosis from the institute.
I quietly accepted it, trying to walk the path laid out for me. Then, after turning into an adult, I awakened mana. I was the first case of acquired mana awakening since the first generation, when the Guardian Tower bestowed mana upon humanity. But I felt no joy whatsoever.
The day I awakened, I was riding in the car with my parents when we entered a tunnel—and my memories cut off there. When I came to, mana had awakened within me, but everyone else was gone.
The government's investigation pinned it on an unidentified monster. My parents were declared dead. I held their funeral—empty coffins and all. While I was still reeling, unable to accept reality, a military enlistment notice dropped out of nowhere.
The reason? By constitutional law, every citizen who awakens mana must serve three years of mandatory duty upon reaching adulthood. They'd even waited until after my parents' funeral—that was supposedly the military's utmost consideration.
There was an option to swap for ten years as a mandatory Hunter instead, but as an orphan, that didn't apply to me.
And so, my unexpected three-year military life began. I tried to stay positive. No place in the New Daehan Republic developed Awakener abilities as expertly as the military.
I saw my awakened mana as my parents' final gift. Determined to carry on what they couldn't as an Awakener, I threw myself into training.
The military's curriculum, honed since the first generation, was massive—systematic regimens covering every scenario to boost mana capacity and awaken Unique Abilities.
But after three months of brutal training, I had nothing to show for it. My skill grades rose from sheer endurance, but I failed to increase my mana or awaken any Unique Ability.
Am I really hopeless? As that thought gnawed at me, the instructor who'd monitored me throughout spoke up. Awakening a Unique Ability takes time? That just means it's powerful. Don't give up—keep pushing.
As the first acquired mana Awakener since the first gen, you might end up with something on their level. His encouragement reignited my fire.
I graduated training and got assigned as the lowliest grunt in the 3rd Awakener Company. That's when my real military life kicked off—and the 2-year-9-month nightmare began.
“Waste bastard, can't you do shit right? I told you to manage the byproducts clean—did I or didn't I?”
Waste bastard. That was the nickname slapped on me by our team leader, Jeon So-young, the first day after she checked my training records.
💧 Mana Stat:1 (No change throughout training period)
⭐ Unique Ability:Unawakened
📚 Curriculum: Completed all military ability development programs, but awakening conditions unidentified
“Ah, damn—of all the waste bastards, I get this one...”
At first, I felt bad for her. We'd be raiding dungeons together for the next 2 years and 9 months, and now she was stuck with a half-baked rookie. Sure, getting called waste-grade to my face on day one stung, but I tried to let it slide.
“Hey, you gonna report in or what?”
“At attention! Private Han Yeoul, reporting for transfer to the 3rd Awakener Company effective XXXX year, XX month XX day. Sir!”
“At ease. I'm 7th-grade special officer Jeon So-young.”
Up to that point, I didn't hate her. With looks like hers, I wondered why she was even in the military. Her fiery red bob framed a beauty that could make you overlook most annoyances.
“Alright, transfer reported. You know I'm your direct superior, right? C'mon, let's go somewhere.”
“Where to, ma'am?”
“Fuck, where else but a dungeon? Move it!”
That day, I racked up a bunch more nicknames: useless bastard, goblin-dick-worse-than-useless bastard, and so on.
People aren't just their looks. Personality matters—a lot. It took one day to realize that. Two days to start thinking of Jeon So-young as a total bitch.
She treated me like her personal slave, micromanaging my every move, constantly nagging under the guise of “common sense education.” Hell, she even synced her leave with mine just to tag along because she was “bored.”
I endured, vowing that the moment my Unique Ability awakened, I'd crush that bitch's smug nose. But that day never came—not until the eve of my discharge, after 2 years and 9 months.
“Hey, get your head in the game! You forgot this...? Tomorrow's discharge—think you own the place now?”
“Hey, waste bastard. You ignoring me?”
Today was the last day I'd have to deal with this raging bitch. I'd given up on the Unique Ability thing ages ago. The instructor's pep talk? A rare outlier. Most Awakeners manifest before adulthood; worst case, they succeed after pro training.
The one example he cited? Oliver Moore, first-gen hero and current U.S. governor. Famous for awakening his S-grade Nuclear Punch at 30. A punch that triggered a mini-nuke with a human body.
Me, getting something like that? Nah. Better to face harsh reality than cling to a one-in-a-million case.
Didn't feel bad about the instructor—he was just trying to motivate me. I just lacked the talent.
“Waste bastard, this won't do. I was gonna go easy on your last day, but looks like you need one final attitude adjustment. I'm not tormenting you for fun—it's 'cause I can't let my subordinate discharge like this. What're you gonna do out there in society with that mindset? Already branded waste-grade—you gotta grovel a bit to scrape by, right?”
Yeah, compared to this bitch, the instructor was an angel. I tuned her out, one ear in, one ear out. Spending time with her had roughened my own edges.
Today, though? Time for a comeback. Discharge tomorrow—what could she do? I sighed deep, words bubbling up.
I'm not your slave. I'm with the special ability unit, paid by the military. You're not my direct superior on this dispatch—we're equals. Staff using casual speech to a special duty officer is a reg violation, grounds for complaint. At other posts, even older folks call me Mr. XX or XX-ssi. Stop with the slave, waste, useless crap. And don't say 'defiance.'
That's what I wanted to say. But staring at her face, the unfiltered truth slipped out.
“What're you gonna do about it, you bitch?”
“...What? What'd you just say?”
Words escaped before I could stop them. But saying it felt good—like my real heart. Seeing her genuinely pissed-off voice and flushed face? Pride over regret.
Did I grin too hard? Jeon So-young activated her Unique Ability.
“Just die.”
Swearing once and she pulls her power...? Fucking bitch. One hell of a discharge send-off.
A massive blaze erupted from my feet. Then, blackout.