Zane walked through the dimly lit streets of Sector D, his boots kicking up dust as he moved toward the city's lower districts. The buildings here were a mix of collapsed ruins and makeshift structures, a reminder that this place had once been a thriving city before the Cataclysm tore the world apart.
Unlike Sector C, where the unawakened worked in companies, factories, or research facilities, Sector D was home to those who had no real prospects. The ones who couldn't climb into the corporate world. The ones who weren't born with high-class bloodlines. The ones who had to fight for every scrap of food, shelter, and mana.
People like him.
Zane's mana gun hung at his waist, completely drained of energy. Without another mana core, it was nothing more than a dead weight. And after what happened with Dain earlier, he had nothing left to buy another.
His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the night before.
He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. Time to visit the market.
The Black Market of Sector D
Unlike the well-lit trade districts of Sector C, the Black Market in Sector D operated in the shadows—hidden within abandoned subway tunnels and underground passages that ran beneath the city. It was a place where rules didn't exist, where stolen dungeon cores, illegal weapons, and forbidden relics were traded freely.
Zane moved through the narrow tunnels, the air thick with the scent of burning metal and mana residue. Faint blue lights flickered overhead, powered by scavenged energy cells.
At the far end of the tunnel, the market came into view.
Rows of makeshift stalls lined the underground passage, their owners calling out to potential buyers. Weapons, armor, potions, food, and even dungeon beast parts were displayed openly. The market was dangerous, but it was the only place where people like him could find supplies without dealing with the guilds.
Zane made his way toward a familiar stall—one run by Kiera, a merchant who specialized in mana weapons.
The woman was leaning against her counter, arms crossed, her sharp green eyes scanning the crowd. Her dark hair was tied back, and she wore a reinforced vest—not because she was a fighter, but because she understood how dangerous this place was.
She noticed Zane approaching and smirked. "If it isn't my favorite customer. Out of bullets already?"
Zane stopped in front of the stall, raising an eyebrow. "Do I look like I have bullets?"
Kiera laughed. "Fair point." She gestured toward her wares. "What do you need?"
Zane glanced at the neatly arranged mana cores, each glowing faintly with residual energy.
"How much for a low-grade core?"
Kiera gave him a flat look. "The same price as last time—150 credits."
Zane tensed. He had exactly zero credits.
Kiera leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. "Let me guess. No money?"
Zane sighed. "Not yet."
Kiera studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Then you're out of luck. I don't do charity."
Zane was about to walk away when Kiera spoke again.
"But… there is one way you could pay."
He turned back, narrowing his eyes. "I'm listening."
Kiera smirked. "Ever heard of a place called Sector F?"
Zane stiffened.
Everyone had heard of Sector F—the dead zone, the scarred remnants of the old world, a place where even high-ranked awakened rarely ventured.
"Yeah," Zane said carefully. "What about it?"
Kiera tapped her fingers against the counter. "There's been some… interesting activity there lately. Rumors say a new dungeon formed deep in the ruins. The kind that shouldn't exist."
Zane frowned. "'Shouldn't exist?' What does that mean?"
Kiera shrugged. "No one knows. But the guilds haven't claimed it yet, which means there's something inside that they don't want people to see."
Zane crossed his arms. "And you want me to check it out?"
Kiera smiled. "I want you to bring me something from inside. Do that, and I'll give you three mana cores. Free of charge."
Zane hesitated. Sector F was no joke. It wasn't just filled with monsters—it was unstable, warped by dungeon energy and the remnants of the Cataclysm.
But three mana cores? That was more than enough to keep him going for weeks.
It was too good to pass up.
Zane exhaled. "Fine. Tell me where to go."
Kiera grinned. "Thought you'd say that."
---
The Journey Into the Dead Zone Begins…
As Zane left the market, a new thought settled in his mind.
This was it.
This was the kind of chance he had been waiting for.
If he wanted to escape this worthless life, if he wanted to climb higher than Sector D, Sector C, or even Sector A…
Then he needed to take risks.
And Sector F?
That was the perfect place to start.
The night air was colder than usual as Zane made his way out of Sector D, leaving behind the dim glow of flickering streetlights. The further he walked, the quieter the city became. The steady hum of life—the sound of people struggling to survive—faded into silence.
He was heading toward Sector F.
The dead zone.
A place where no one lived, where even high-ranked awakened rarely ventured. There were no laws, no factions, no guilds. Just ruins, monsters, and the unknown.
Zane pulled his coat tighter around him, his mana gun still useless at his waist. He had no backup, no allies, and no resources.
He had nothing.
But then again… he had nothing to lose.
---
For as long as Zane could remember, he had been a ghost in his own world.
Growing up in Sector D, he had watched others awaken one by one, gaining their Classes, their Ranks, their place in society. Those who failed to awaken found work in Sector C, serving the stronger awakened in research labs, factories, or supply chains.
And then there were people like him.
People who had been given nothing.
No Class. No awakening. No future.
He had tried to make peace with it. He had tried to work, to survive, to exist quietly. But every time he had to lower his head in front of an awakened, every time he had to hand over something that should have been his, every time someone like Dain reminded him that he was less than nothing—
Something inside him burned.
There was no point in staying here.
No point in waiting, hoping, dreaming that something would change.
If he wanted a chance at something more, he had to risk it all.
And that was why he was here—standing at the edge of Sector F.
---
The ruined city stretched before him, swallowed by shadows. The air smelled wrong—tainted with the lingering effects of dungeon energy.
Once, this had been a thriving metropolis. Before the Cataclysm, it had been home to millions. Now, it was nothing but a graveyard of steel and stone, warped by unstable dungeons and failed experiments.
Zane took a slow breath.
Most people wouldn't come here without a guild squad, high-level gear, and backup.
He had none of those things.
All he had was his instincts, his useless mana gun, and the quiet certainty that nothing in Sector D was waiting for him anymore.
So why not walk forward?
With that thought, he took his first step into the dead zone.
---
The moment he crossed the threshold, the air changed.
There was no wind. No sound. No sign of life.
Zane moved cautiously, stepping over cracked pavement and broken glass as he navigated the ruins. The old skyscrapers loomed overhead, their frames shattered and hollow. Some buildings had unnatural distortions—like pieces of them had been cut away, erased from existence.
Dungeon scars.
The leftovers of failed dungeon stabilizations—where reality itself had been altered.
Zane exhaled, forcing himself to keep moving.
Kiera had said a new dungeon had appeared deep in Sector F. Something that shouldn't exist.
If he could find it—and bring something back—he could finally change his fate.
Or he would die here.
Either way, it was better than living the life he had now.
Nothing to lose.
Everything to gain.
And so, Zane walked deeper into the ruins.
Toward whatever waited for him in the dark.