The dream always started the same way—with the scent of rain-drenched jasmine and the sound of laughter.
In the golden haze of her memory, Yui was small, her hands tucked safely into the large, calloused palms of her parents. They were smiling, their Hunter gear gleaming under the sun, promising her they'd be back before dinner. But then, the gold turned to ash. Their hands slipped away, dissolving into a cold, black void.
The scene shifted violently. The warmth was replaced by the cramped, suffocating walls of her aunt's house. She saw the shadow of a raised hand, heard the sharp, cruel words that stung worse than any physical blow. The fear in her chest began to swell, a pressurized heat coiling in her small fist—
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Yui's eyes snapped open. She sat up abruptly, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her oversized t-shirt drenched in cold sweat. The digital clock on the crate beside her bed was flashing red.
"Oh no... I'm late!" she gasped, her voice cracking.
She scrambled out of bed, her heart still hammering from the nightmare. To the world, she was a monster-slayer, but here, she was just a student facing the greatest enemy of all: the school bell.
She wouldn't even be here if it weren't for her. After the incident—after her aunt's cruelty had finally met the unstoppable force of Yui's awakening—Yui had been a ghost, a child standing in the rubble of a shattered life. It was Ms. Raty, a teacher with sharp eyes and a kinder heart, who had found her. Ms. Raty hadn't called the police. She had seen the bruises on Yui's arms and the hollow look in her eyes, and she had understood. She was the one who had quietly wiped the digital footprints of that day, ensuring the "disappearance" of Yui's aunt remained a cold case, and giving Yui a chance to live in her parents' home again.
DING-DONG.
The doorbell rang, echoing through the small shack.
"Yui? Are you awake yet? We're going to be late for the bus!" a warm, familiar voice called out from behind the iron door.
Yui panicked, pulling on her school uniform skirt while hopping on one foot to get her socks on. "Coming, Ms. Raty! Just one minute!"
She grabbed Reno from the bed, clipped him to her bag, and took one last look at the photo of her parents. The nightmare was fading, replaced by the mundane reality of textbooks and blackboards.
She threw open the door. Standing there was Ms. Raty, dressed in her neat teaching attire, holding two warm buns wrapped in paper. She looked at Yui's messy hair and lopsided collar, then sighed with a gentle, motherly smile.
"Rough night again?" Ms. Raty asked, handing her one of the buns. "Eat up. We have a long walk to the station."
As the door swung open, Ms. Raty didn't move to leave. Instead, she stepped inside with a soft sigh, her eyes immediately spotting Yui's disheveled state.
"Oh, Yui... look at you," she murmured, her voice a mix of exasperation and deep affection.
She reached out, her fingers nimble as she straightened Yui's lopsided collar and tucked her shirt in. She pulled a small comb from her bag and began to work through Yui's tangled black hair, her touch gentle but firm. While she combed, she scanned the floor, spotting a stray sock under the bed. "And your socks don't even match. Here, put these on."
Yui stood still, letting the teacher care for her. In these quiet moments, she wasn't the girl who could shatter mountains; she was just a child being looked after.
Once Yui was presentable, they stepped out of the small shack and into the morning air. The walk to the bus stop was a journey through a world of contradictions. Above them, massive holographic advertisements for "Mana-Infused Bio-Enhancers" flickered against the grimy walls of the slums. They passed a construction site where a heavy-duty robot was being powered by a glowing blue Mana-Core, its movements fluid and eerily organic.
This was the new era. Ever since humanity discovered that Mana wasn't just myth, but a high-density energy source, technology had leapt forward by centuries. But the cost was steep. The same energy that powered their cities also tore holes in reality, allowing demons to slip through and causing local wildlife to mutate into metallic, bloodthirsty horrors. The world was advancing at a breakneck pace, but it was rotting at the edges just as fast.
As they approached the high-tech bus stop—a sleek glass structure etched with protective runes—Ms. Raty slowed her pace. She looked at Yui's small hands, the same hands that had left nothing but dust of her aunt's home.
"Yui, listen to me," Ms. Raty said, her voice dropping to a serious whisper. "I know how strong you are. I saw what happened... and I know you can protect yourself. But please, be careful. This world is becoming more unstable every day. There are eyes everywhere—military drones, corporate scouts, and things even darker."
She paused, looking into Yui's calm, dark eyes. Ms. Raty had seen the aftermath of Yui's power, but even she didn't truly know the limit of what the girl could do. No one did.
"Keep your head down at school," she continued, squeezing Yui's shoulder. "Don't let them see what you're capable of. A power that can break the world is a power that the world will try to chain up."
Yui nodded slowly, taking a bite of her warm bun. "I know, Ms. Raty. I'll be quiet. Like always."
The mag-lev bus hissed to a stop in front of them, its silver body shimmering with a faint mana-shield.
The mag-lev bus glided to a halt in front of a sprawling complex that looked more like a fortress than a school. Massive spires of silver-glass reached toward the sky, pulsating with rhythmic blue light. This was Aetheria Academy, the premier institution where the fusion of ancient sorcery and cutting-edge technology was taught to the next generation of elites.
Every student walking through those gates was "special." Some carried glowing mechanical staves, others had eyes that shimmered with elemental mana, and a few were followed by small, floating AI-droids. In a world of chaos, these were the chosen ones meant to restore order.
And then, there was Yui.
She walked beside Ms. Raty, looking like the most ordinary person in the entire campus. No one looked twice at the girl in the oversized hoodie with a Teddy bear on her hip. And that was exactly how Ms. Raty wanted it.
As they passed through the heavy mana-scanners at the entrance, the sensors hummed. Normally, someone with Yui's raw power would have set off every alarm in the city. But as they walked, a faint, invisible shimmer surrounded Yui's silhouette.
Ms. Raty was a Master of Gravity Magic. With a subtle flick of her fingers, she had placed a permanent "Gravity Shroud" around Yui—a sophisticated spell that compressed Yui's massive energy signature inward, making her appear as someone with zero mana capacity. To the world's most advanced sensors, Yui Seong was a "Null"—a person with no magical talent whatsoever.
"Remember, Yui," Ms. Raty whispered as they reached the main hall, her eyes scanning the crowd of arrogant young mages and tech-prodigies. "To them, you are just a scholarship student with no Gift. Let them believe it. The moment they realize you can shatter the laws of physics with a single finger, this school will become a cage."
Yui adjusted her bag, her expression as calm as a still lake. "I understand, Ms. Raty. I'm just here to learn... and maybe find a good lunch."
Ms. Raty chuckled, though her eyes remained guarded. She was the one who had pulled the strings, faked the documents, and used her influence as a high-ranking sorceress to hide Yui in plain sight. She protected Yui, not because she feared the girl, but because she feared what the world would do to a child who possessed the power to end it.
"Go to class," Ms. Raty said, patting her head. "I have a lecture to give to the Advanced Gravity department. I'll see you at noon."
Yui watched her teacher walk away, then turned toward the noisy hallway of Class 1-A. She could already hear her classmates boasting about their high-rank spells and their expensive combat suits.
Yui slid into her seat at the back of Class 1-A, trying to blend into the shadows of the high-tech terminal on her desk. But the room was vibrating with an energy that had nothing to do with magic. It was pure, unadulterated gossip.
"Did you guys see the drone footage from Sector 7?" a boy in the front row shouted, waving his tablet. "A Class-S Behemoth! Its armor was made of reinforced mana-steel, and it was turned into scrap metal in a literal heartbeat!"
"The scanners are going crazy," a girl with glowing blue hair added, her eyes wide. "The military released a statement saying the residual mana left at the scene is... impossible. They said it wasn't just a spell. It was as if the very fabric of space was forced to obey a single point of impact. The energy signature is so massive and 'pure' that they can't even categorize it. They're calling the unknown entity 'The Zenith Destroyer'."
Yui froze. Her hand, which was reaching for a notebook, trembled slightly.
The Zenith Destroyer? She looked down at her small, pale fist. She remembered the 'pop' sound the monster had made. She hadn't even used half her strength—she was just annoyed because of the vending machine.
Oh no... I messed up again, she thought, her inner voice screaming in a panic. I was supposed to be careful! I was supposed to be quiet! If Ms. Raty finds out the military is tracking a 'Zenith Destroyer', she's going to double my homework for a month!
"They say the impact was so dense it left a 'mana-vacuum'," another student chimed in, leaning back in his chair. "Whoever did it must be a Level 100 Arch-Mage or a God-Tier Cyborg from the Central Union. There's no way a normal human could survive that kind of backlash."
Yui pulled her hoodie up, trying to hide her reddening face. Every word they said felt like a spotlight was shining directly on her. To everyone else, she was just the "Null" girl—the scholarship student who probably couldn't even light a candle with magic. But inside, Yui was sweating bullets, praying that the sophisticated satellites of the city didn't have a zoom lens powerful enough to see a small girl buying strawberry milk near a pile of monster dust.
Just act natural, Yui, she told herself, taking a deep, shaky breath. You are a nobody. You are a ghost. You just want to pass math and eat lunch.
But the talk didn't stop. If anything, it got louder. The mystery of the "One-Punch Hero" of Sector 7 was the only thing the world cared about today, and Yui Seong was sitting right in the middle of it, clutching her Teddy bear Reno under the desk as if her life depended on it.