Kyle stood near the academy’s outer wall, the same gate he had once entered with dreams far too big for his humble background. Now, he stood ready to leave it all behind.
Arin and Jin were waiting.
Arin smiled faintly as she handed over a small satchel. “I packed some supplies. And this—”
She pulled out the silver blade she had gifted earlier. “You better take care of it. That thing's stronger than most E-rank monsters you'll meet outside.”
Jin gave him a crooked grin. “Still not telling us where you’re headed?”
Kyle shook his head. “It’s better this way.”
“Bullshit,” Jin muttered, looking away. “But fine. Just don’t go dying on us, dumbass.”
Arin stepped forward, pulling Kyle into a tight hug. “You’ll always have us. No matter how far you go.”
Kyle didn’t say goodbye.
He just nodded—once—then turned and walked into the dark.
A few of the academy instructors were still gathered in the lounge, reviewing the dungeon training reports.
"Classless. Again," one sighed, setting down Kyle’s profile.
Another shook his head. “It’s a shame. That kid had grit. Raw talent, too.”
“He may not have awakened a class, but…” One of the senior instructors squinted at the combat report. “...his goblin kill count was higher than anyone else's. He even showed traces of killing intent.”
“Killing intent? Without a class?”
“Yup.”
The room went quiet.
A younger instructor muttered, “We may have let go of someone... special.”
Massive.
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Intimidating.
Unnatural.
The Tower stood like a scar in reality, rising from the very center of Seoul Station.
Four paths. Four gates.
Easy. Medium. Hard.
Each sealed tight, surrounded by thick barricades, armed guild soldiers, and automated security.
And then… there was Hell.
No barricades. No guards. No detection magic.
A couple of off-duty guards leaned against a vending machine, sipping canned coffee.
"Why’s the Hell gate wide open all the time?"
“Because no idiot’s stupid enough to go near it.”
“Good point. Wanna bet who’s dumb enough to try?”
“I bet it’ll be that classless kid everyone talks about.”
Both laughed.
A moment later, they felt a chill—and turned to find no one there.
Unbeknownst to them, Kyle had already passed silently through the cracks in security.
Kyle stood before the obsidian gate, the words [HELL – ENTRY REQUIRES LEVEL 10+] etched in blazing crimson above it.
He hesitated, hand just inches from the dark surface.
No turning back.
He took a breath, then placed his palm on the gate.
[ENTRY GRANTED — ACCESS: VERIFIED]
The gate pulsed. A red flash enveloped him—and in an instant, Kyle vanished.
The world would never be the same.
?? ALERT: A player has entered the Hell Path of the Tower.
Location: Seoul Station Tower – HELL GATE
Current Status: LIVE FEED UNAVAILABLE
“What?!”
“That’s a bug, right?! A prank?!”
“Who the hell would enter HELL?!”
Media outlets erupted. The Player's Association scrambled. Governments rushed into emergency meetings.
And when Kyle’s name was leaked?
Pandemonium.
“Wait—Kyle? The classless guy?”
“No way. That’s suicide!”
“Check the logs again! That has to be a mistake!”
Papers flew. Alarms screamed.
“Who authorized a classless player into Hell!?”
“No one! The system verified him by itself!”
“How can the Gate open for him?!”
"Wait… this skill log. There's no class... but there is a skill!"
A silent pause filled the room.
Then came the voice of the high-ranking god overseeing the mortal realm.
His tone was solemn. Cold.
“...Hell was never meant for mortals.”
In a realm beyond realms—where time had no meaning and stars wept in silence—a being stirred.
Seated on a throne of black flame and forgotten truths, The Ruler of the Void opened his eyes for the first time in millennia.
A whisper echoed through existence.
"The game begins."
The words reached even the farthest stars.
Brahma and Vishnu stood frozen.
“He… moved?” Vishnu whispered.
Brahma clenched his jaw. “After all these years…”
Far below, the Tower shivered.
A mortal had dared enter Hell.
And the cosmos was watching.