THUMP!
THUMP!
THUMP!
The sound of fists slamming into flesh echoed hauntingly through the abandoned building. The shattered windows let in pale, ghostly light, casting jagged shadows on the walls. Dust floated through the air like the ashes of something long dead.
Three boys in school uniforms stood in a circle, laughing cruelly. Their target lay crumpled on the ground—a broken figure, barely breathing.
Ronan Raylinde.
His white uniform was drenched in blood and dirt, the proud emblem of Lincolnville High stained into obscurity. His lip was torn, one eye swollen shut, and blood pooled beneath him from a nasty gash at his temple. His ribs ached with every breath, each inhale like a stab into his chest.
He twitched. Tried to move.
Nothing responded.
His body didn't belong to him anymore—it had become a sack of pain.
He couldn't even cry.
Not because he was strong.
Because he was numb.
Liam Drake, the gang's ringleader, crouched down in front of him, a wicked smile playing on his lips. His mullet shifted slightly as he leaned in, the stench of cigarette smoke and sweat radiating from him.
"You get it now, don't you, Ronan?" he hissed mockingly. "Next time I tell you to do something, just shut up and obey. Or next time, you might not be leaving this building alive."
He paused, letting the silence press down like a weight.
"One thousand bucks. I don't care if you have to starve or sell your organs. I'll be waiting."
Behind him, Ryan West and Jake Foster howled with laughter. It was all a game to them. This wasn't bullying—it was entertainment. It was sport.
Ronan lay there, the taste of blood metallic and bitter in his mouth. His head throbbed with a splitting ache, like his skull was trying to crack open from the inside.
His thoughts spiraled.
Why?
Why again?
He had already lived through hell once.
And now he was forced to live it all over again.
Six months ago, he woke up in this world—in this unfamiliar body. He thought it was a second chance. A new life.
A lie.
He prayed for power. For some kind of advantage—like those protagonists in webnovels he clung to in his previous life. A system, a skill, a spark of something.
But the heavens were silent.
Even during the Awakening Ceremony, where students all around him discovered their supernatural gifts, he stood there empty. Powerless. Worthless.
Laughed at. Shoved aside. Forgotten.
He was an orphan with no connections. No wealth. No name.
Just a ghost in a world that never wanted him.
A punching bag.
"Hey, you listening, loser?" Liam's voice cut through his haze.
CRACK!
A vicious kick slammed into Ronan's ribs, sending him crashing into the wall. The sound was bone on concrete. Pain exploded in his side, sharp and blinding.
He coughed—wet and broken.
Was that blood in his lungs?
"Liam, you might actually kill him, dude!" Ryan laughed.
"So what? It's not like anyone's gonna miss him," Jake replied with a shrug, not even glancing over.
Ronan couldn't speak.
He couldn't scream.
All he could do was feel.
Feel anger.
Feel shame.
Feel the cold, crushing weight of helplessness.
Why?
Why had he been reborn if only to suffer worse than before?
Was this fate?
Was this punishment?
Was he cursed to be nothing, no matter where or who he was?
'Is this all I am? A toy for others to break whenever they please?'
Something inside him cracked—not a bone, but something deeper.
And then—
[System Activated]
He blinked.
The pain didn't go away. But it paused—just for a second—as a glowing holographic screen shimmered before his eyes.
[Due to a delay in system synchronization, the host will receive compensation]
[You have obtained an S-Class Super ability: Starflame]
His heart lurched.
A system?
A system?!
Tears welled up—not from pain this time, but from relief.
'It's real… finally… finally…!'
Something burned within his veins. A roaring fire surged through his chest, up his spine, down to his fingers. His blood felt like molten lava, searing and divine.
And then—
[Extreme rage and deep-seated hatred detected]
[You have obtained the special skill: Devil's Covenant]
[Description: When humans stand on the edge of despair, only the devil listens]
[Skill Effect: Increases strength by 1,000%]
[Additional Effects: Extremely enhances potentials, speed, reflexes, and endurance]
[Consequence: Only activates when rage reaches its peak. Each activation erodes the user's humanity. If the limit is surpassed, another entity will take control]
"Hey Liam, look—he's crying!" Jake laughed. "What a pathetic—"
Liam grinned. "Let's make sure he never cries again. Drag him over here."
Jake stepped forward.
CRACK!
He had grabbed Ronan's collar—only to have his wrist shattered like glass.
"AAAAAAGH!!" His scream tore through the room.
The laughter vanished.
Jake and Liam froze in place.
Ronan didn't move like a victim anymore.
He stood up.
Slow. Steady. Inhuman.
His once-dull eyes now burned crimson, glowing with violent intensity. Steam rose off his skin, and a dark, suffocating aura rippled from his body—cold, yet burning.
The room, once filled with laughter, was now silent.
Ronan spoke, voice hoarse but calm. Too calm.
Too quiet.
"You all…"
He raised his head.
A smile—not of joy, but of sheer wrath—formed on his bloodied face.
"…are going to die tonight!"