Morning arrived without the mercy of sunlight.
The green-tinted clouds hung low and heavy, swirling in a slow, sickly dance that made the sky look like a bruised lung. There was no dawn, only a gradual transition from pitch black to a dim, hazy grey. Ren woke to the smell of damp earth and the cloying scent of rotting leaves. His body was a map of pain; sleeping on the bare, root-choked ground had turned his muscles into stiff wires.
Around him, the clearing was a graveyard of broken spirits. Some students sat up groggily, their faces pale and sunken. Others didn't move at all, staring blankly at the canopy above as if waiting for the world to reset. A few whispered prayers, their voices cracking in the cold air.
They were no longer students. They were survivors in a world that hadn't invited them.
The clearing was surrounded by tall, jagged grass and clusters of trees that looked like twisted limbs. Scattered nearby were the remains of old wooden structures—collapsed fences, a half-rotted watch post, and the ruins of a small storage hut made of stone and timber. It was a village that had been swallowed by the forest centuries ago.
Marcus Hale stood near the center of the ruins, surrounded by a small group of students. They were the "Blessed." Their blue interfaces flickered in the dim light, casting a glow of competence over them. Their posture was different now—shoulders back, eyes scanning the treeline with a predatory sharpness.
Ren watched them from the edge of the group. He felt the invisible wall between them.
"We can't stay exposed," Marcus said, his voice carrying a new, cold authority. "The goblins found us once. They'll be back, and they'll bring more. My system is already pinging with 'Monster Activity' nearby."
"And the wolves," a girl added, clutching a crude iron spear the system had granted her. "I heard them circling all night."
Marcus nodded. "We need shelter. Something we can defend. The ruins are too unstable to live in, but we can use the materials to build a perimeter."
He turned his gaze toward the rest of the group—the ones standing in the shadows, the ones whose faces were not illuminated by blue light.
The ones without interfaces.
Ren felt the weight of that gaze. It wasn't a look of concern; it was a look of appraisal. Marcus wasn't seeing classmates; he was seeing tools.
"Those of us with combat classes or active skills will handle guard duty," Marcus declared. "We are the only ones who can actually kill anything. We'll form a perimeter and keep the monsters at bay."
Then, his voice dropped an octave, turning hard. "The rest of you—the ones without systems—you're the labor force. You gather wood. You haul stones. You find vines. If you want to sleep inside the walls we build, you earn your spot. No freeloaders."
A ripple of dread went through the system-less students. Some looked relieved to have a task, but most felt the sting of the hierarchy. Ren exhaled slowly and stepped forward. He didn't have a choice. In this world, labor was the only currency he had left.
***
The labor force was divided into small groups and sent into the forest. They had no weapons, no skills, and no protection beyond their own numbers.
Ren's group followed a narrow dirt path leading deeper into the woods. The trees here were ancient, their roots breaking through the ground like grasping fingers. Somewhere in the distance, a long, mournful howl echoed through the valley.
"So, we're the pack mules now," a boy named Kenji scoffed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Marcus gets to play hero while we break our backs."
"Figures," another boy laughed bitterly. "If you don't have a system, you're just an NPC. A background character."
Ren kept his eyes forward, his mind working. He wasn't looking for a system; he was looking at the reality of the forest. He noticed the way the moss grew thicker on the side of the trees facing away from the clearing. He noticed the broken branches and the flattened grass.
"Hey," Kenji said, glancing at Ren. "You still don't have a screen, right? Not even a glitch?"
Ren nodded once. "Nothing."
Kenji smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Then stay close to me, 'No-Rank.' Monsters love easy kills. Maybe if a goblin jumps you, I can use you as a distraction to run."
The laughter that followed was quiet, but it cut deeper than the cold wind. Ren said nothing. He was already scanning a darker patch of trees where the ground dipped slightly downhill.
The wind shifted. The chirping of the strange, multi-winged insects stopped.
"Don't go that way," Ren said quietly, pointing toward the dip.
Kenji snorted. "Why? Because you're scared of the dark, No-Rank?"
"Because it's a natural path," Ren replied, his voice steady. "The grass is packed down, and the smell of musk is stronger there. Predators don't wander randomly; they use the easiest routes. That's a hunting trail."
"Listen to the expert," Kenji mocked, stepping toward the trail anyway. "You don't even have a Map skill. I'm not taking advice from a guy who can't even see his own health bar."
They didn't listen. They pushed forward into the clearing where several fallen trees lay scattered.
Ren worked in silence. Sweat soaked his shirt as he dragged heavy branches, stripped bark with a sharp stone he'd found, and tied bundles using thick vines. His hands burned, the skin raw and blistering. His muscles screamed with every movement.
The others complained loudly, their voices echoing through the trees.
"This is pointless."
"We should be leveling up."
"This world is a scam."
Ren ignored the noise. He was focused on the silence.
Suddenly, a shrill, piercing scream rang out from a nearby thicket.
Everyone froze. A goblin burst into view, its eyes wide and bloodshot, chasing two fleeing students. Its crude blade flashed in the dim light as it lunged.
Panic erupted.
"RUN!" Kenji yelled, dropping his bundle and bolting toward the clearing.
Ren didn't run blindly. He grabbed a thick, heavy branch he had been stripping and a coil of vines. He moved sideways, ducking behind a massive trunk and pulling a terrified girl with him.
The goblin didn't chase them. It chased the loudest prey—Kenji.
By the time Marcus and the "Warriors" arrived, the goblin lay dead, its skull crushed by Marcus's enhanced strength. But one student was bleeding on the ground, a deep gash across his thigh.
***
Back at the clearing, the construction of the shelter began in earnest.
It was a brutal, primitive process. Rough wooden frames were erected. Stones were stacked into low, uneven walls. Vines were used to bind the supports together. It wasn't elegant, but it was functional.
Ren worked nonstop. He carried more stones than the others, his hands stained with dirt and blood. He didn't complain. He didn't ask for rest. He was analyzing the structure, reinforcing the weak points with the vines he had gathered.
Someone shoved past him, nearly knocking him over.
"Move, No-Rank," a boy snapped. "You're in the way of the real work."
Ren stumbled, his knee hitting a sharp rock. He didn't fight back. He just stood up and reached for another stone.
"Enough."
A calm, soft voice cut through the tension.
The Healer girl stood nearby. Her name was Elara, though most just called her "The Saint." Her hands glowed with a faint, soothing green light. Her presence alone made the others hesitate. Even Marcus showed her a level of respect that bordered on fear.
Ren had scraped his arm on a splintered beam, and blood was welling up in a thick line down his forearm. Elara noticed.
"Hold still," she said.
She pressed her palm close to his wound. A wave of warmth washed over Ren's arm. The stinging pain dulled, and the bleeding slowed to a crawl. But Ren noticed the beads of sweat on her forehead and the way her hand trembled.
"That's all I can do," she whispered, her voice exhausted. "Mana doesn't grow on trees. Don't push yourself, Ren."
Ren nodded. "Thank you."
She studied him for a long heartbeat. "You pay attention," she said, her eyes searching his. "You saw the goblin before anyone else did. That matters more than a screen."
She turned away before he could respond.
Whispers followed her.
"Why'd she waste mana on him?"
"He doesn't even have a system. He's a bad investment."
"Must be pity."
By nightfall, the shelter was complete. It was a crude, fragile fortress of wood and stone, but it was ours.
Ren sat near the edge of the firelight, staring into the black maw of the forest. He felt it again—that strange, heavy pressure. It felt like a pair of eyes pressing against the back of his neck. Something was watching them. Something that wasn't a goblin.
Still, no interface appeared in his mind. Still, no system voice spoke to him.
But as Ren looked at his raw, bleeding hands, he realized something. In this world, the System gave power to the strong. But survival... survival was built by the weak who refused to break.
He reached into his pocket and felt the two 100-yen coins. They were warm from his body heat.
*'The System is testing them,'* Ren thought, his eyes narrowing at the dark trees. *'But it's ignoring me. And that's its first mistake.'*
The forest remained silent, but the game was just beginning.