Arya's grip tightened on the dagger as the goblin lunged. He barely dodged, his breath ragged. His body screamed in pain, but he forced himself to stay focused. Not fast enough. Not strong enough. The only thing keeping him alive was instinct—and sheer luck.
The goblin snarled, swinging its rusted sword. Arya barely raised his own in time, steel clashing against steel. His arms shook from the force. He was weaker. Slower. The goblin pressed harder, shoving him back until his foot slipped on the blood-soaked ground. He fell to one knee, struggling to keep his balance.
With a guttural growl, the goblin seized the moment and kicked Arya down. He crashed onto his back, the cold dirt pressing against him. The goblin loomed above, raising its sword for the final strike.
Arya's fingers scrambled for his knife. Just as the goblin's blade came down, he raised his arm, blocking the attack. But the strength difference was too much—his arm trembled, the knife barely holding back the goblin's force.
He couldn't keep it up much longer.
Then, his eyes flicked to the goblin's leg.
Gritting his teeth, Arya twisted his body and lashed out with a sharp kick to its knee. The goblin yelped, losing balance. As it toppled forward, Arya reacted on instinct—he gripped his knife tighter and pointed it upward.
The goblin fell.
Straight onto Arya's waiting blade.
The creature twitched, its own weight driving the knife deep into its skull. A gurgled screech escaped its lips before it went limp.
After the goblin dies:
Arya panted, wiping the blood from his brow as the goblin's body went still. The fight was over.
He shoved the corpse aside, his chest heaving as he struggled to his feet. The stench of blood clung to his clothes, his body aching with every movement, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.
Around him, his team finished off the last of the goblins, the boss slain. Somehow, they had survived.
But Arya… he had barely made it through.
He was an E-rank assassin, Known as the weakest assassin in the world, Arya's rank was the lowest in the system, even below those who had just joined as E-ranks. He'd heard the whispers, the mocking words when people passed by. They didn't think he could hear, but he did. They thought he was nothing—an E-rank who barely made it through missions alive.
But Arya never let them see it. For three years, he'd faced the same struggle: missions that left him bloodied, broken, but he always kept going. Always. His body ached, but he never backed down. It wasn't strength that kept him alive—it was his raw instinct. His luck.
Assassins like him were born with a mask, marking their place in the system. Nobody knew what happened if they took it off—some said they died. Arya didn't care about the rumors. He didn't care about anything but survival.
He'd never take off his mask. Not even now, when the weight of it felt unbearable, hiding so much more than his face. The world didn't know he was blind. No one knew how hard it was, how his lack of sight made everything so much harder.
He had learned to listen for the faint sounds around him—footsteps, whispers, the rustle of clothing. The mask's special sensors helped him perceive his surroundings, guiding his every step. He had long ago stopped trusting his eyes, and in their place, his other senses sharpened to a near unnatural level.
He accepted E-rank missions without question. They didn't pay much, but the money was enough for him to keep going. He had no choice. Unlike normal people, Arya couldn't live a peaceful life. He was born into an assassin family, and the system forced him to take these missions.
His life had been a struggle ever since his parents died. Now, he took care of his younger sister, Aisha. But the real problem wasn't that he was weak—it was that he couldn't see.
He walked through life without letting anyone see the truth. He moved like a normal person, even though no one knew that he was blind. In the past, when he fought monsters in dungeons, the others would bully him—try to kill him—and sometimes, other E-rank assassins would step in to save him. On their way back, they would talk about the ones who couldn't walk, the ones who were blind, and how they would eventually be killed by the system. Arya kept his blindness a secret, hiding it behind his mask.
He didn't have the power like the others, but his white mask helped him perceive his surroundings, guiding his every step. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough for survival.
He took every mission without hesitation. He had to. He needed money for his sister's treatment. It had been a year since he noticed something was wrong with her. One day, while they were playing outside, blood suddenly started to pour from her mouth. They went to a doctor, but no one could figure out what was happening.
A few months later, something even more troubling happened—her assassin mark, usually black at birth, had started to turn red. It was slow, but unmistakable, and Arya couldn't shake the feeling that the color change was a sign of something terrible.
Arya's life had become even harder than before. He kept his blindness hidden from everyone, but now he had more to worry about—his sister's condition. If the assassin organization learned of Aisha's illness, they would take her and kill her. And the treatments she needed to survive were costly—far beyond his reach. Even if he managed to afford the medicine, there was a risk that Aisha would either die or become a monster herself.
For three years, Arya had worked tirelessly, accepting E-rank missions and surviving on instinct and luck, all to save up enough money for his sister's treatment. But now, after years of grueling work, he had finally managed to gather a decent sum.
Determined to help his sister, Arya made his way to an assassin's store. The blue liquid—the medicine that could save her—was within his grasp. He had worked so hard for this moment, and he was sure that he could buy it. His heart raced with hope, but when he asked about the price, the worker's words shattered him.
"12 million," the worker said, without a hint of sympathy.
Arya's heart sank, and he couldn't speak. He had come so close, only to realize that he would never have enough. The money he had saved over the years wasn't even close to enough. It was a cruel, harsh reality. He turned and left the store, his body trembling with the weight of the disappointment. Even if he worked his entire life, he knew he could never earn that much money.
As he walked back home, his steps heavy, something unexpected caught his attention. A group of assassins had gathered in front of a shop. Arya paused, curious, and overheard fragments of their conversation.
"The reward's three times bigger if we take this mission," one said.
Arya stopped in his tracks. He had only ever taken government missions before, but this time, there was a different opportunity. He didn't know much about the other guilds, but he had heard rumors.
There were three guilds that controlled the world: the Silent Guild, the Hunter Guild, and the government-run Royal Guild. Arya had no idea what the others were like, but the opportunity to earn more money was undeniable.
A man standing nearby turned to Arya, noticing his gaze. "If you're thinking of joining, you'll need to sign the form. But before you do, read the terms carefully."
He paused, eyeing Arya with a knowing look. "They'll assign you a random guild mission once you sign. And if you fail to follow the rules, or worse, refuse a mission, you could die. Choosing a guild isn't easy, but when survival's on the line, you don't have much of a choice."
Arya was at a crossroads. His desire to save his sister was stronger than anything else. He knew that if he didn't take the chance, he wouldn't be able to make the money he needed. But joining an unknown guild could be dangerous.
Still, the decision was clear. He didn't care if it cost him his life. All that mattered was saving Aisha. He signed the form, not knowing what would happen next, but willing to take the risk to protect the one person who mattered most to him.
As Arya was about to leave the place, another man called out to him from the back. "You need to fill out this form too," he said, handing Arya a document.
Curious, Arya walked over and took the form. "What's this?" he asked, his voice steady but a little confused.
The man looked at him and replied, "It's just another form you need to complete. Go ahead and fill it out."
Arya took the form, scanning it briefly before sitting down to write. He filled in his name, "Arya Chhetri," and added that he was 18 years old. The year was 2015. After completing the form, he handed it back to the man without a word and turned to leave.
A Mysterious S-Rank Dungeon Appears
Outside the city, an S-rank dungeon gate had opened. Dungeon gates appeared randomly, connecting the real world to other worlds filled with monsters. If assassins didn't close them in time, the monsters would eventually break through.
This dungeon, however, was different.
The first squad of assassins sent inside never returned. Months passed, but no monsters emerged either. A second squad was sent in, but they also disappeared without a trace. After waiting for months with no sign of life from inside, the mission was abandoned, and the area was sealed off.
Normally, if a dungeon gate stayed open too long, monsters would eventually come out. But this time, nothing had happened. No assassins, no monsters—just silence.
It was as if the dungeon had swallowed everything whole.
A few weeks after the incident...
Arya lay sprawled on his bed, exhausted. His body ached from the E-rank mission he had barely survived the day before. His injuries still throbbed, and all he wanted was rest.
Then suddenly—
Ring... Ring...
"What? It's only 3 PM. Who the hell is calling me now?" Arya groaned, running a hand through his messy black hair. His white mask rested on the bedside table, the scar on the right side of his face hidden beneath it.
Still half-asleep, he reached for his device and tapped the screen.
[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
A calm, robotic female voice echoed in his ears.
[You have received a mission.]
"A mission?" he mumbled, barely awake.
Then, the words appeared before him in glowing red letters:
[Mission Rank: S]
Arya shot up in bed, wide awake.
"What the fuck?! An S-Rank mission? I'm just an E-Ranker! This has to be a mistake!"
His pulse pounded. Maybe it was a system glitch?
"Hey, System! Are you sure this isn't an error?"
[No error detected.]
His breath caught. This couldn't be real. It was impossible.
"Then I reject the mission!" he shouted, a surge of panic taking over.
[Mission rejection is not possible.]
"What?! WHY NOT?!" His voice cracked, his hands clenching into fists.
Then, the system's voice delivered the final blow:
[If you reject the mission... you will die.]
Arya felt his stomach drop.
"Wait, wait, if I accept it, I'll die for sure! And if I reject it, I still die?!"
[Mission pending...]
[Verifying response...]
[Mission accepted.]
His blood ran cold.
"WHEN did I accept the mission?!"
[Just now. You said 'accept.']
"That wasn't me accepting the damn mission! I was just talking!"
[Mission cannot be canceled. Details will be provided later. Best of luck on your first S-Rank mission.]
The holographic screen flickered—then vanished.
Arya scrambled to tap his device again. Nothing. No response.
No way out.
His hands trembled as the realization sank in.
"What kind of bullshit system is this?! I can barely handle E-Rank missions... How the hell am I supposed to survive an S-Rank?!"
After Two Days
Arya arrived at the location the system had given him. It was early—just 6 AM.
"Why would they call me at this time?" he muttered, feeling uneasy. Something about this mission didn't sit right with him.
The sky was covered in thick clouds, and a heavy fog blanketed the area, making it impossible to see far. He stood still, waiting, and after a few minutes, the smoke began to clear. What he saw left him shocked.
Nothing.
No assassins. No buildings. No portal. Just an empty, desolate space.
"Did I come to the wrong location?" Arya frowned, pulling out his device to check the coordinates. But the system pointed right where he was standing.
"But there's nothing here," he muttered, scanning his surroundings again. "Did the system mess up?"
Just then, a voice called out from behind him.
"Hey, you! Are you here for the S-rank mission too?"
Arya turned around to see a young man wearing a grey mask, decorated with some kind of logo or design. He was dressed in a full armored suit, clearly prepared for battle.
"Yeah, I am," Arya replied cautiously.
The masked man studied him for a moment. "Is this your first time on an S-rank mission?"
Arya nodded. "Yeah."
"What rank are you?"
"E-rank," Arya answered.
The man tensed up. An E-ranker? he thought. Why would they send someone so weak on an S-rank mission? Something's not right.
"...I see," the man finally said. "The name's 28. I'm a D-ranker. And you?"
Arya hesitated for a second before remembering that assassins only used their code names, never their real names.
"Eight," he said, rubbing his hair.
"Alright, Eight," 28 said. "You're probably confused right now, wondering where the portal is, right?"
"Yeah… I don't see anything here," Arya admitted. "Is the portal in a different location?"
"No, we're in the right place," 28 said.
Arya frowned. "Then where is it?"
28 sighed. "Since this is your first high-rank mission, you probably don't know. The system doesn't give out much information either."
He took a step forward and reached out with his hand. Suddenly, a blue ripple spread through the air, revealing a transparent barrier.
"You see this?" 28 said, turning to Arya. "Whenever an A or S-rank portal opens, the assassin organization places an invisible barrier around it. That way, normal people—and monsters—can't see it.
"Sometimes, monsters escape from the portal. If there were no barrier, they could reach people or even invade a city. That's why the organization seals off high-rank portals like this—to contain whatever might come out."
Arya stared in surprise.
"Come on," 28 said. "Let's go inside."
He stepped through the barrier—and vanished.