Mason leaned against the cold wall of the police station, his mind racing. His memory was sharp, almost too sharp. He could remember the smallest details from years ago, like the phone number some random stranger had given him on the street. That's why the scene playing out in front of him felt all too familiar.
It was early evening, just as he recalled. The same smug student stood behind his mother, smirking. 'That bastard started all this after having too much to drink,' Mason thought, clenching his jaw.
The student laughed, sneering. "What's with that stare? You're the one who messed with me while I was studying for exams! My hand's useless now because of you."
His mother added with fury, "The doctors say it'll take eight weeks for him to fully recover! Are you going to take responsibility if he fails his college exams? Are you going to ruin my son's future?"
Mason couldn't help but scoff. 'Eight weeks to recover from that? Yeah, right.'
He muttered under his breath, "What a joke."
The mother and son stared at him, their mouths hanging open. The guy who had been practically groveling just minutes earlier had the nerve to talk back?
"Did you lose your mind, or are you just stupid?" the mother snapped, her face red with anger.
Mason didn't bother responding. His mind wasn't here. He had far more pressing concerns now. Ever since he'd realized he was back in the past, all that mattered was finding the Mythic Items hidden in the Crypts before anyone else did. He needed to awaken his systems quickly to do that.
'I wasted so much time when I was younger,' he thought, frustrated with his old self. Back then, he struggled to get by, working dead-end jobs for a boss who treated him like garbage. He didn't have the Seeker ability then, so it had made sense. But now? He didn't have time to deal with people like this.
Mason's laugh filled the room, startling the officers. The mother and son looked uneasy.
"What the hell's so funny?" the son growled. "Are you insane?"
His mother tried to slap Mason in frustration, but before anyone could stop her, a loud scream echoed through the station.
"Ahhhhh!" Her hand twisted at an awkward angle, and she stumbled back in shock.
The officers were frozen in place, watching in disbelief as Mason held her arm, casually twisting it like it was nothing.
"You should think before you start swinging," he said calmly, his grip tight.
The student lunged at Mason, but within seconds, his arm was twisted just like his mother's. "Ahhhh!" the boy cried out in pain.
Mason smirked. "Eight weeks for a full recovery, huh? Seems like your hand's working just fine."
The student winced, begging, "Stop! Please, I'm sorry!"
The officers finally snapped out of their stupor. "Let go! That's enough!" one of them shouted, rushing over.
Mason released them without hesitation and stretched his arms. "Fine, fine. Where's the holding cell? I'm tired. Might as well get some rest while I'm here."
"Huh?" The officers stared at him, confused.
"I assume you're locking me up, right? I'll just head to the cell," Mason said, walking toward the back of the station as if he already knew the way.
The officers scrambled to catch up, while the mother and son clutched their arms, watching Mason in disbelief. "Is he out of his mind?" the student muttered.
"He's crazy!" his mother added. "Lock him up! I'm going to sue that bastard!"
But as they huffed and puffed, they didn't notice something crucial.
Mason quietly pulled out their wallets from his pocket. He smirked as he flipped through them. "Well, well... quite the stash," he whispered. He'd used his old street skills—combined with his system—to swipe their wallets without them realizing. 'Years of being called a rat bastard finally paid off,' he thought, chuckling. His abilities had always been sharp, like those of a street magician. Now, thanks to his system, they were even better.
He'd only done it as a warm-up, but it had worked. Mason grinned. 'Looks like these bastards had some important stuff on them. Good luck getting it back.'
Just as he slipped the wallets into his coat, a new message appeared.
-Detect system mastery level increased.-
-Activating Stealth System-
-Dexterity system unlocked.-
Mason's grin widened. 'So that's how it works. I need to perform specific actions to awaken my systems.'
He was about to inspect the system window further when an officer walked up to him.
"Hey, punk. Do I really have to deal with you? I haven't even seen my wife in a month," the officer grumbled.
Mason looked up and smiled. "Kim Ganji. Been a while."
Kim raised an eyebrow. "How do you know my name?" Then his expression softened. "Wait, Mason? Is that you?"
Mason nodded. Kim Ganji had always looked after him, treating him like a younger brother when Mason had no one. But Mason didn't have time for a reunion. He pointed to the TV, where breaking news scrolled across the screen.
-An unknown Crypt appeared in Central Park today at 4 pm. Over 2,000 people reported missing...-
Kim sighed. "These Crypts... They've been popping up for months now, and we still don't have answers."
Mason stared at the screen. He already knew all about these Crypts.
What he needed now was to get ahead of the game.
The world had been thrown into chaos, all because of the Mythic Items that were emerging. Each item, connected to the power of gods, heroes, and legendary figures, sought to find a worthy master. Hades, Sun Wukong, Ares, Izanagi, Solomon—artifacts of immense power—appeared out of nowhere, accompanied by Crypts that signaled their arrival.
The process wasn't random. The Mythic Items used various methods to select their masters, but the creation of Crypts was a common factor. These Crypts became beacons, drawing people toward them in droves.
Mason understood the danger all too well. 'This is only the beginning,' he thought. 'Once these Crypts appear more frequently, hell will follow.'
On the surface, Mythic Items brought great benefits. People who managed to claim them gained incredible powers, but the dark side was always lurking beneath. If these items had a hidden purpose—like wiping out humanity—then their plan was already working. People were killing each other for the chance to claim an item, and powerful monopolies were reshaping the world's social order.
The only way to survive in this new world was to find a powerful Mythic Item. Becoming a Mythic Item user was no longer a choice; it was a necessity. Mason knew history would repeat itself if he didn't act. He couldn't afford to be left behind.
That was why Mason needed answers. He turned to the officer nearby, a man who seemed blissfully unaware of what was really going on.
"Hey, have you seen any one with out of the world abilities lately?"
The officer scratched his head, confused. "You mean like in the Olympics? "
Mason raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, something like that."
Mason couldn't help but smile. 'That confirms it,' he thought.
Based on the officer's clueless response, it was clear that the Crypts had only just started to appear.
Mythic Item users hadn't fully emerged yet. No one had cleared any Crypts, and the true competition hadn't begun.
The world was still in the infancy stage of the chaos to come, but Mason knew he didn't have time to rest. The clock was ticking, and the window of opportunity was shrinking.
He leaned back, his mind racing. 'There aren't any real competitors yet, but that doesn't mean I can relax.'
One name popped into his head, a name that sent a chill down his spine: Mister Depay.
Mister Depay had always been one step ahead, a man with connections and resources that ran deeper than anyone could imagine.
He was ruthless, calculating, and already had eyes on the Crypts.
'If I don't move fast, that turd Depay will claim the best Mythic Items for himself.'
Mason clenched his fists. 'I need to beat him to it. If I don't, I'll be left with nothing but scraps. There's no way in hell that I'm letting those Emperors have their way.'
He couldn't let that happen. Not again.