Chapter 1: Prologue: The Lowest Rank
I was nothing.
A title. A mark. A profession. That's what mattered in this world. It's what defined us. People didn't care about who you were or what you dreamed of. They cared about your system—what job you'd been assigned. Your value was determined by it. And mine?
Mine was worthless.
The system didn't give me a boxer's reflex or a lawyer's persuasion. No. It gave me Unskilled Laborer. Rank F. The lowest. Every day, I woke up, dragged myself to another back-breaking day of work, and felt the weight of my curse grow heavier.
I had no future. No hope. I wasn't even important enough to be considered a failure. I was the invisible one. The one no one noticed.
The system had seen fit to give me the bare minimum. It hadn't even bothered to show me any potential for improvement. People who got unlucky and received low-rank professions still had a chance to rise. They could grow their skills, improve their rank. Even if you started as a Janitoror Cashier, you could eventually become a decent person, useful to the world.
However, I did not possess such hope. My system did not progress. It remained unchanged. Regardless of my efforts or the intensity of my work, I remained merely a laborer, carrying boxes and performing the most degrading, menial jobs imaginable.
It wasn't always like this. I used to dream. I used to think that maybe, just maybe, my system would surprise me—that it would reveal a hidden power, a secret job waiting to be unlocked. But that was foolish. At seventeen, I had learned the painful truth. I was nothing but a cog in a system too big to care about one worthless person.
At times, I questioned whether it would have been preferable if I had never existed. At least then, I wouldn't need to endure this life. Each day felt identical—draining, solitary, and meaningless.