I finished washing the dishes and wrapped up my other tasks.
The pile of dirty plates had been the hardest to deal with—not because of the quantity, but because they never stopped coming. One after another, they arrived endlessly.
As evening settled in, it was finally time to head home.
My face still burned from both tears and the beating I had received from that fat bastard—Logan.
Logan owned the food stall where I worked. It was well-known, especially among low-level hunters who stopped by for a cheap meal.
And as for me—I hadn't awakened yet.
Most people awakened at sixteen. The moment they did, they could open their status window, revealing their stats, abilities, and potential.
But I was nineteen, and my status window had yet to appear.
I sighed, stepping outside to inform Logan that my shift was over.
I made my way toward Logan's small wooden office, my hands hovering over the door—trembling. Still, I forced myself to knock.
A gruff, irritated voice came from inside. "Enter."
I pushed open the door, wincing as it creaked.
It was always the same—a cramped, musty office where Logan managed his business.
A small wooden table sat at the center, a single flower pot resting on top. A painting hung on the wall, surprisingly neat compared to the rest of the room.
But the worst part? The smell. His office always reeked of sweat, stale food, and something rotting.
I hesitated as I noticed something different. The curtains were closed.
A cold chill crept down my spine.
"He never closes the curtains… Is he going to beat me again?"
My gaze shifted to Logan, slouched in his chair, his bloated belly pressed against the edge of the table.
His greying hair, a messy mix of black and white, only made his face even more repulsive.
I swallowed hard and stepped forward, standing silently before the desk.
I was here for my pay.
Wages were meant to be given immediately after a shift. The government had a law ensuring workers were paid fairly by the hour. Twelve dollars for an hour.
But some stores ignored the law.
Logan's store was one of them.
Here, the pay was sixty dollars per day for an eight-to-nine-hour shift.
He stared at me for a moment before looking away, reaching into his desk drawer.
A few seconds later, he tossed forty dollars onto the table.
I froze. My fingers clenched.
"Uhh-hh, b-but i-it's sixty… Why did you only give me forty?" My voice trembled as I spoke.
Logan's eyes darkened with anger. His thick fingers slammed against the table, making me flinch.
"You worthless scum…" His voice boomed, venomous and sharp. "You didn't work properly today, and now you have the audacity to ask for MORE?"
I shrank back, my body trembling as his fury erupted.
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his massive belly.
"Do you even realize," he sneered, "that because of your laziness today, we lost customers? They left because the dishes weren't cleaned on time. And now you're asking for more?"
My mouth opened, but no words came out.
I knew that if I argued, he'd either cut my pay even more or beat me. There was no winning against him.
So, I stood there in silence, my gaze falling to the floor.
My fingers tightened around the crumpled bills in my fist.
He noticed my clenched fist and smirked.
"You wanted to hit me, didn't you?"
His words slithered into my ears, and I snapped my head up. The moment our eyes met, his smirk vanished, replaced by raw anger.
I froze.
"GET OUT IMMEDIATELY!" he bellowed. "AND TOMORROW—YOU WILL BE GOING TO WORK FOR 12 HOURS!"
I flinched at his words, but all I could do was nod and leave as fast as possible.
Shutting the wooden door behind me, I exhaled shakily. My gaze fell to the crumpled bills in my palm—forty dollars.
A bitter sigh escaped my lips. I stuffed the money into my pocket and stepped out of the store completely.
The evening sky stretched above me, painted in hues of red and orange.
Then—
Voices. Laughter. A group approaching.
My heart lurched as I recognized them. I wanted to run, but before I could, a voice called out.
"Oyyy… Ren…"
I stiffened. My feet refused to move.
They were getting closer.
Five of them. Three guys, two girls. All familiar faces.
My old classmates.
I had dropped out of school because of my family's situation. But that wasn't the only reason.
The real reason—
I couldn't take the bullying from the awakened students anymore.
The tallest among them, with dark hair and a confident smirk, was James—the leader of the group and the one who had tormented me the most in the past.
He possessed superhuman strength and a rare skill in swordsmanship. He most of uses his iron punches in fight.
Beside him stood Jimmy, shorter and stocky, with blonde hair. He wasn't much on his own—just another follower, clinging to James like a lost puppy to avoid getting bullied himself. His skill? Fire manipulation.
Next was Lara, the so-called beauty queen of the school. Her short purple hair matched her piercing violet eyes.
She had a unique skill—mind reading, but in my opinion, she was just a beauty without a brain. People worshiped her, but I never saw what made her special.
Then came Sophia. Unlike the others, she had a useful healing ability—able to mend wounds, both her own and others, during raid missions.
Her long, flowing black hair and soft brown eyes gave her a gentle appearance, but she still walked with them.
And lastly—Javier.
The quiet one.
No one at school knew much about him—not his status, not his skills. He never bullied me, never picked on anyone. Yet, for some reason, he still ran with this group.
His short black hair fell just past his neck, shadowing his sharp, unreadable eyes.
Mysterious as ever.
James stepped forward with a smirk, casually wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
"Hey, man… It's been a while."
I kept my gaze down.
"Nah, James, it's been three whole months," Lara corrected, her voice laced with amusement.
"Ohh! My bad. You know, Lara… I sometimes forget these things." He let out a laugh.
"Fufu," Lara giggled along with him.
Then James turned back to me, his grip tightening.
"Well, man, I need something from you."
The moment those words hit my ears; I knew exactly what he meant. Money.
I glanced around the group. They all had smirks on their faces—except for Javier, who stood off to the side, uninterested as always.
"You understand what I'm saying, right?" James pressed.
I swallowed hard and gave a slight nod.
"I-I don't have any money right now, James," I stammered.
His arm tensed. Pain shot through my shoulder. He was using his superhuman strength.
For a brief moment, his smile faltered, but then—just as quickly—it returned, colder and more calculating than before.
"Don't lie to me, man… I know you got your wages just now. That fatty Logan paid you—I'm sure of it."
I didn't respond. I just stood there, silent. My heart pounding.
The giggles of Lara and Sophia echoed in my head, taunting me.
James clicked his tongue. "Come on, bro. Just give me twenty dollars. I'll pay you back later. We're friends, right?"
Friends. The word felt hollow coming from him. No one wanted to be friends with a useless nobody who hadn't awakened yet.
But I knew the truth—if I refused, things would only get worse.
With a clenched jaw, I reached into my pocket and handed him twenty dollars.
Jimmy scoffed. "Why don't you just give the rest too?"
"Yeah… he's right. That's what friends are for," Sophia chimed in, her voice dripping with mockery.
My hands trembled. I wanted to fight back—but I couldn't. I knew I couldn't.
James watched me struggle, his smirk widening like he enjoyed the show.
Slowly, I handed over my last twenty dollars. My entire salary—gone.
"Good boy," he chuckled, tucking the money into his coat.
Then, with one last pat on my shoulder, he turned to the others. "Let's go, guys."
And just like that, he walked past me, laughing, as if I had never even existed.
"Good pal," Jimmy whispered as he followed after James.
Lara walked past with a smug grin, not bothering to say a word.
Sophia, however, leaned in close as she passed. "Useless wretch," she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt.
I stood there, frozen. I didn't say anything. I couldn't.
A lump formed in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. But more than my own misery, a single thought consumed me—how will I pay my sister's school fees at the end of the month?
Then—
A hand appeared in front of me, holding forty dollars.
I blinked in surprise and looked up.
Javier.
"Take it." His voice was deep, steady—far more mature than I expected.
For the first time, I heard him speak.
Hesitantly, I reached out and took the money. He didn't wait for a response. Without another word, he turned and walked away, following the group.
I stared at his back, then down at the bills in my hand.
Wiping away the tears that never fell, I tucked the money into my pocket.
"He's… different. And mysterious."