Morning light sliced through the blinds, but Reeve didn't move immediately.
The hum of the city outside was persistent, indifferent, reminding him that the world demanded something—even if he had nothing to give.
He finally got up, dragging his body to the kitchen. Breakfast was a simple affair: leftover bread, a cracked egg, and the bitter taste of instant coffee. Nothing to inspire. Nothing to expect. Just fuel.
He glanced at his schedule for the day: college, part-time job, errands.
Every task felt repetitive, predictable, yet necessary. Money didn't care about morality. Exams didn't care about effort. People didn't care about honesty.
And Reeve… learned fast how to survive among them.
At college, the corridors buzzed with chatter. Friends laughed, whispered secrets, and argued over grades and gossip.
"Reeve! Hey!" someone called.
Reeve turned, blank expression, waiting for the inevitable question.
"Did you study for the test yesterday?"
He shrugged innocently. "A little. Why?"
The student leaned closer, lowering his voice. "I can help you… if you help me."
Reeve tilted his head, curious. Help? How much… or how little is required?
"What do you want?" he asked casually.
The boy smirked. "Notes… answers… you know, stuff to pass without failing."
Reeve nodded, pretending thoughtfulness. "Sure. I can do that. But you owe me."
And just like that, a silent transaction occurred—no words about friendship, no moral implications, just survival.
Talking is useless.
But manipulating situations… now, that was efficient.
By midday, Reeve's brain was tired—not from thinking, but from performing the right kind of cluelessness.
In class, a group project was announced.
Everyone groaned.
The leader, a loud, arrogant boy, turned to Reeve. "You'll do the data research, yeah? Don't mess it up."
Reeve nodded. "Uh… I can try."
He smiled innocently, asking occasional questions like he didn't know a thing—while secretly listening to everyone's methods and memorizing the shortcuts to the assignment's success.
People didn't notice how calculating he was. They didn't notice he could anticipate every step they'd take.
Because Reeve never showed his hand.
After college, he walked home, avoiding the crowded metro. The city's streets were alive with noise, yet silent in their demands. Every pedestrian was a small story of greed, hope, frustration, or resignation. Reeve watched them carefully, absorbing habits, weaknesses, and patterns.
He knew money wouldn't grow on trees. People wouldn't share it freely. The world was a chessboard, and he… had just learned the rules.
Back home, he pulled out his laptop. Freelance work awaited—data entry, odd jobs, anything to keep the coin flowing.
Hours passed. Hours where Reeve's fingers moved tirelessly while his mind wandered through strategies. How to maximize income? How to make minimal effort for maximum return? How to manipulate contracts without anyone noticing?
He smiled faintly. Efficiency was an art.
And art was something most people never mastered.
Evening came. Reeve's stomach growled. He heated a simple meal, sitting on the edge of the bed. A manga book lay next to him, but he didn't open it yet.
Instead, he pondered quietly:
People talk. People lie. People cheat. And yet, they never see the truth. They never see the system itself.
Reeve's fingers traced the edge of the table. A thought struck him, unsettling yet empowering.
If I want to survive… I can't rely on words or trust. Only outcomes. Only control.
He picked up the manga, opening it to a random page. Images of heroes and battles played out. Stories of power, cunning, and victory.
One day… maybe I won't just survive. Maybe I'll… decide.
The night deepened, and the city's lights shimmered like distant stars. Reeve leaned back, his mind alive with strategies no one else could see.
Somewhere in the shadows of his small apartment, a strange chill touched the windowpane. He didn't notice. He didn't care. Not yet.
But the world beyond his reality had already started stirring, preparing to introduce him to powers he hadn't dreamed of.
For now… he was just Reeve.
A clueless, socially awkward, low-marked student.
But beneath the surface, a hunter in training was quietly awakening.