Before the first light of dawn broke across the sky, Yor stood before the towering gates of Sector 13. The air was cold, the silence deep. Only the faint whisper of wind accompanied his steady footsteps.
This gate—ordinary to others—marked the end of his old life and the beginning of a path he could no longer turn away from.
Behind him stood his family. His adoptive mother wept silently, her tears like pearls dropping onto stone. His father, once a soldier now faded by time, gave a solemn nod. Yor bowed deeply.
"I will return," he said quietly, his voice carrying a strength far beyond his years. "And when I do… I'll be someone worthy of the name Satoshi."
The guards at the gates, once lazy and dismissive of their duties, now stiffened as he passed. An unseen force radiated from the boy—as if a wild beast had awakened inside him. They didn't understand it. They only bowed, as instinct told them they should.
As Yor reached the threshold, a familiar figure stepped out from the shadows—white hair fluttering gently, a calm smile resting on his lips.
"You leaving too?" the white-haired youth asked.
Yor gave a single nod.
The boy smiled. "Me too. The world outside... it's far more entertaining."
"You've been following me for days," Yor said without turning. "What's your name?"
The youth paused, then replied, "Fren."
Yor glanced at his snowy hair. "I'll call you Whitey."
Fren laughed lightly. "As you wish."
Without another word, the two youths stepped beyond the protective walls. The moment their feet touched the earth outside, the atmosphere shifted. The air was thick with wildness, raw and untamed. Trees loomed, twisted and ancient. Every sound hinted at unseen eyes watching from the shadows.
"This is different…" Yor muttered.
Fren nodded. "We've entered the outer buffer zone. Technically 'safe'—but that's only relative. The strongest creature here is a Level 5 Berserker Ape—massive arms, violent temperament, extremely rare."
Yor raised an eyebrow. "How do you know all this?"
Fren's smile deepened. "Someone told me."
Yor didn't push further. He didn't need to. Fren wasn't a threat—yet.
They walked deeper, through thick foliage and hidden trails. Monsters soon made their presence known:
A Level 4 poison-maned lion, nearly five feet tall, with fur like barbed needles and breath that melted bark. It roared once before vanishing into the trees, avoiding conflict.
Several Level 2 beasts, small and territorial, snarled from behind stones but dared not approach.
And then—they came.
Short, thick-bodied monsters the size of children emerged from the earth. Their backs were armored with black, stone-like plates. Their limbs were thick, claws sharp, and eyes red like embers. Level 3 Kuguro.
They moved in packs. Fast. Coordinated. Dangerous.
Yor had no time to think.
One rolled toward him like a spiked boulder. He dodged, barely, only for another to slam into his side. The air left his lungs. A third came, then a fourth. They struck like living hammers.
He countered. He roared. He punched. But their defenses were near-impenetrable. Only their stomachs—light-pink and fleshy—offered a weakness.
Yor aimed, landed a solid strike on one's stomach, causing it to scream and fall—but the others swarmed. Five. Then six. Then eight.
His body couldn't keep up.
Blood stained the grass. His arms trembled. And in the end—he fell.
Darkness closed in.
When he awoke, it was nightfall. A soft fire crackled nearby. Fren sat calmly, roasting meat over the flames.
"You're awake," he said, not looking up. "Good. I thought they broke your spine."
Yor sat up with effort, muscles aching. "...That was humiliating."
"Necessary," Fren replied. "You want to grow stronger, don't you?"
Yor clenched his fists. He remembered his sister. Her blood. Her scream. The pain. The helplessness.
"Yes," he said firmly. "More than anything."
Fren tossed him a chunk of meat. "Eat. There's nothing else out here. And tomorrow, we train."
Yor took a bite, ignoring the taste.
Fren smiled. "Those Kuguro… their defense is incredible, but their stomach is weak. Their attack pattern is predictable: they roll, crash, recover, repeat. Learn their timing. Dodge. Strike the weak spot. Fail, and you die."
Yor closed his eyes.
He saw his sister.
He saw her tears.
He saw his own weakness.
And he opened his eyes—filled now with fire.
"No more falling. I'll master them… and then, I'll move on."
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