The hum of the city was different. Felix opened his eyes to the glittering metropolis of New York, but not as he remembered. This Earth—a version he had only read about—glistened with unnatural light, pulsing from skyscrapers embedded with veins of mana-infused crystal. Neon signs projected live feeds of hunters battling in the infamous Tower that loomed on the horizon, a jagged, obsidian spire slicing into the sky like a warning.
His chest tightened as realization settled like a weight on his lungs. This was not a dream. The chaotic harmony of a modern-fantasy world enveloped him. His pulse quickened as memories of late nights reading webtoons and daydreaming about other worlds washed over him. Except now, he wasn't an observer—he was a participant.
He stood in the middle of a busy street, where civilians with quirks of their own shuffled past, eyes glued to floating screens detailing the latest Tower clearances. Felix scanned the crowd, recognizing the banners of hunter guilds pinned to their uniforms: Ironstride, Storm's Reckoning, Argent Valor. The sheer reality of it all struck him like a punch.
This isn't just fiction anymore, he thought, his fingers trembling slightly as he brought them to his temple.
A sudden commotion nearby broke through his reverie. A group of hunters, clad in sleek armor that shimmered with enchantments, brushed past him, heading to a supply stall. The marketplace buzzed with activity; traders shouted offers for mana-infused weapons, and healers advertised their services. Felix stepped closer, curiosity pulling him in.
"Out of the way," one hunter snapped as he barged past. Felix stumbled back, the hostility in the hunter's eyes softened a moment later. "Sorry," the hunter mumbled, confusion painting his features as if he didn't understand why he had spoken.
Felix's heart skipped a beat. Charm, his mind whispered. His quirk—the anomaly that had been labeled unranked in his system. He had read about quirks that commanded respect or instilled fear, but a quirk that swayed attention at random? He bit back a grin as he realized the implications. This gift could be his edge.
A small, translucent interface flickered into view at the corner of his vision, startling him:
Name: Felix
Quirk: Charm (Unranked)
Level: 1
Skills: Basic Charm Manipulation (Passive)
Reputation Points: 0
Notifications: "Daily Quest Completed: Survive your first day."
He stared, barely containing a laugh. A system too? The potential for scheming was endless. He could feel his brain whirring, piecing together plans, backup plans, and contingency traps as he soaked in this new layer of his reality.
"Survive your first day," he muttered, the absurdity of it washing over him in waves. His eyes drifted to the horizon, where the Tower stood ominously, a silent guardian and executioner.
Suddenly, a blaring announcement echoed through the city, drawing collective gasps from the crowd:
"Alert! Mid-level gate opening detected at Central Park. All hunters report to designated muster points immediately."
The buzz of activity transformed into organized chaos. Hunters unsheathed weapons that glowed with energy, squads assembled with military precision, and civilians hurried for cover. Felix watched, eyes wide with fascination and a touch of nervous anticipation.
Opportunity.
He slipped into the flowing current of people, weaving through the crowd as they moved toward the park. His mind cataloged details—the way guilds coordinated, how hunters barked commands to subordinates. This was no different than the stories he had devoured, but it was alive and raw, each decision teetering on the edge of life and death.
Arriving at Central Park, Felix marveled at the sight. The grass and trees seemed swallowed by an unnatural darkness that rippled like liquid smoke. The gate stood at its center, a swirling vortex of twisted metal and ethereal fog. Hunters took positions, some with eyes closed as they muttered chants, others stretching taut muscles in preparation for the coming storm.
Felix lingered on the periphery, his gaze fixed on a figure who commanded the field with a voice that cut through the din—Marcus "Steelheart" Grant. The leader of the mid-level guild Ironstride, his presence was impossible to ignore. The glint of his steel-plated armor and the effortless way he wielded his Metal Manipulation (B-rank) quirk marked him as both skilled and dangerous.
"Positions!" Marcus shouted, and the ground beneath his feet cracked as metallic tendrils surged forward, forming barriers and weaponry. Felix's eyes widened as he watched Marcus direct the battlefield with calculated precision. The tension in the air crackled, heavy with the promise of violence.
A subtle chime in his vision drew his attention:
New Observational Skill Unlocked: Tactical Analysis (Level 1)
Reputation Points: +5 (Noticed by Ironstride)
Quest Unlocked: "Observe and Survive the Gate."
Felix's breath hitched. Noticed? He glanced at Marcus, who was now barking orders, eyes narrowed with suspicion. Felix's pulse quickened as he realized Marcus's gaze was trained directly on him.
"Who are you?" Marcus demanded, the authority in his voice sending shivers down Felix's spine.
The system pinged again, almost tauntingly:
Quirk Activation Detected: Charm (Passive).
Marcus's expression shifted, suspicion deepening as he took a step forward. The hunters around him tensed, sensing their leader's unease. Felix's mind raced with schemes and countermeasures, every instinct screaming at him to stay calm.
The chapter closed with the faint, twisted grin that touched Felix's lips as he whispered under his breath, "Let's see if this world's as predictable as I think."