April 13th, 2024.

  For reasons humanity could neither prove nor deny, the gods chose amusement over mercy. In their silent curiosity, they granted mankind something divine—power that no mortal philosophy had prepared them to wield. It did not descend as light from the heavens nor rise from sacred ritual. It simply appeared, awakening within humanity as naturally as breath itself.

  The phenomenon defied science, faith, and reason alike.

  Forces once confined to myth became commonpce. Speed surpassed the limits of flesh, fmes bent willingly to human hands, and reality itself seemed willing to yield before intent. The impossible ceased to inspire awe; it became ordinary. This power came to be known by a single name spoken across every nation and nguage—

  Mana.

  Humanity awakened together, bound by a miracle none had earned. Every man, woman, and child felt its presence stirring within their veins, reshaping civilization overnight. Nations restructured. Warfare evolved. Society rebuilt itself around strength measured not by wealth or lineage, but by the depth of one's mana.

  Yet perfection was never universal.

  Among billions, fifty individuals awakened differently. Their existence stood outside understanding, their abilities irregur, unstable, or entirely alien compared to the rest. They were called anomalies—exceptions that proved humanity had not truly grasped the gift it received.

  And among those fifty, one name eclipsed all others.

  Adrian Bckwell.

  Across the world, that name was rarely spoken without hesitation. Fear followed it. Specution fed it. Governments beled him with a title that spread faster than truth ever could—

  The Innate Demon.

  High above the restless glow of a modern city, Adrian stood alone upon a rooftop, the wind brushing gently against his clothes as neon lights painted the skyline beneath him. Screens embedded into towering buildings flickered with constant broadcasts, their artificial glow reflecting against gss and steel like a second consteltion fallen to earth.

  A public announcement interrupted the steady hum of the city.

  "This just in—"

  Adrian tilted his head slightly, his attention drawn more by habit than concern.

  "The bounty on the individual known as Adrian Bckwell has risen from eight billion to nine billion. If you see him, do not approach. Contact authorities immediately."

  A massive billboard ignited across the skyline, its brilliance overwhelming the surrounding lights.

  NAME: Adrian Bckwell

  BOUNTY: 9,000,000,000

  TITLE: Innate Demon

  AGE: 18

  THREAT LEVEL: Undecided

  Adrian stared at it for a long moment, crimson eyes reflecting the glowing letters as though he were reading a stranger's obituary rather than his own description.

  "Huh… looks like it went up again."

  He lowered himself onto the rooftop, folding his hands behind his head as if the announcement concerned someone else entirely. The distant noise of traffic blended with the wind, forming a strangely peaceful rhythm beneath the chaos of the city.

  "I honestly thought bounties that high were reserved for real criminals."

  A faint breath escaped him, almost a ugh.

  "It's not like I've actually killed anyone."

  Silence answered.

  He closed his eyes, allowing exhaustion to settle over him. The world continued moving without his participation, lights blinking endlessly beneath the night sky.

  Whatever.

  Sleep came easily.

  And when his eyes opened again, reality had changed.

  Only one eye opened at first.

  Red.

  Not merely colored, but crimson—unnaturally vivid, framed by exposed white beneath the iris like fractured porcein. Awareness returned all at once, sharp and immediate, forcing Adrian upright as instinct overtook confusion.

  The skyline was gone.

  Endless clouds stretched above him, vast and untouched by civilization. Mountains rose in the distance, their peaks swallowed by drifting mist that moved with ancient patience. The air pressed heavily against his lungs, dense with unfamiliar vitality, as though the world itself possessed a heartbeat.

  "What the hell?"

  His voice sounded the same.

  Everything else did not.

  Adrian looked down at himself, his expression tightening as realization settled slowly into pce. The proportions were wrong. The sensation of movement felt unfamiliar, like wearing a body that responded a fraction too te to his intentions.

  This was not his body.

  He exhaled carefully, forcing calm where panic might have taken root in another person.

  "Okay…"

  A pause followed as he examined his hands, turning them slowly beneath the foreign sunlight.

  "Whose body am I in now?"

  The question lingered unanswered.

  He lifted his gaze, scanning the unfamiliar ndscape stretching endlessly around him. No buildings. No roads. No signs of modern life—only nature untouched and indifferent.

  "More importantly… where am I?"

  His eyes drifted downward again, and a quiet snort escaped him despite the situation.

  "Well, whoever did this at least had the decency to leave me with underwear. Thanks, I guess."

  The humor faded as quickly as it appeared, repced by calm practicality.

  Survival first. Questions ter.

  He rose to his feet, wind brushing against unfamiliar skin as his gaze hardened with quiet resolve.

  "…Never mind. I need clothes."

  And beneath the open sky of a world not his own, Adrian Bckwell took his first step as a damaged vessel reborn into something unknown.

  Adrian stood in silence beneath the unfamiliar sky, the wind brushing softly against his bare skin as realization settled into cautious acceptance. Survival demanded action, not confusion. His gaze lowered slightly, focus sharpening as instinct guided him toward the most natural solution.

  Clothing first.

  He raised one hand, fingers steady, and attempted to summon a simple spell—nothing complex, merely the smallest manipution of mana, something even a novice could perform without thought.

  Nothing happened.

  The air remained still.

  Adrian's brow furrowed faintly as he examined his fingers, turning his wrist as though expecting the mana to appear betedly.

  "…Huh. That's weird."

  He tried again, this time applying intent with greater crity, guiding the flow as he had done countless times before.

  Silence answered him once more.

  No mana responded. No energy stirred.

  His expression hardened slightly.

  "What the hell is wrong with this body?"

  For a brief moment irritation surfaced, then vanished just as quickly, repced by calm analysis. Adrian inhaled slowly, forcing his thoughts into order as understanding began assembling itself piece by piece.

  Then realization struck.

  "…Wait. I can figure this out."

  He lowered himself to the ground, crossing his legs with practiced ease. His posture straightened naturally, hands resting upon his knees as his eyes closed and the outside world faded into quiet absence.

  "Alright. First things first—my mana core."

  His awareness turned inward.

  The sensation was familiar, like sinking beneath still water. Flesh dissolved from perception. Bones and organs blurred into obscurity as his consciousness moved deeper, guided by instinct refined through months of mastery.

  Soon, glowing pathways appeared before him.

  Mana veins—luminous streams branching throughout the body like rivers of light.

  And at their center, near the heart, floated the core itself.

  Cracked.

  Fractured lines spread across its surface like shattered gss, its glow unstable and faint. Several mana channels hung disconnected, severed from circution entirely, leaving energy stagnant and trapped.

  Adrian observed it quietly.

  "I see…"

  His voice carried no panic, only understanding.

  "The mana isn't circuting. The veins are badly damaged."

  A slow smile formed despite the diagnosis, amusement flickering behind calm crimson eyes.

  "Looks like this body's going to need some serious repair."

  He opened his eyes.

  The world returned.

  Casting spells directly was impossible. Without proper circution, forcing mana through the core would destroy the body before any spell completed. Most people would have considered the situation hopeless.

  Adrian simply adapted.

  He lifted his hand again, fingers spreading slightly as concentration sharpened.

  Thin strands of red mana extended outward from his fingertips—delicate, threadlike fiments shimmering faintly in the air. Unlike spellcasting, this required no circution through the damaged core; it relied on precise external manipution instead.

  "I can't cast spells," he said calmly.

  "But this… this I can manage."

  The threads moved gracefully, weaving together under his control. Layer upon yer intertwined, mana compressing and stabilizing as form slowly emerged from nothingness. Fabric shaped itself through deliberate intent, strands tightening until texture resembled cloth rather than energy.

  A long-sleeved shirt formed first, dark and simple.

  Then joggers followed, shaped seamlessly around invisible proportions.

  Residual mana condensed further, hardening into a rubber-like substance that molded itself into shoes, their structure stabilizing as energy solidified.

  Adrian stood and slipped them on without haste.

  "Hope these fit."

  They did.

  Satisfied, he turned toward the horizon. A dense forest stretched endlessly ahead, trees towering high enough to swallow the sky between their branches. The world felt ancient—untouched by human noise, heavy with living mana that lingered in the air like unseen mist.

  He began walking.

  Each step carried quiet purpose until the faint sound of running water reached his ears, soft yet persistent. Pushing past low branches and thick foliage, he emerged beside a narrow stream cutting through the earth like a silver ribbon.

  He knelt.

  Cold water spshed against his face, grounding him fully within this unfamiliar reality. Droplets slid down his skin as he leaned closer, eyes settling upon the reflection rippling beneath the surface.

  He froze slightly.

  Bck hair crowned his head, yet the ends faded into grey, unnatural and uneven as though touched by premature age. His gaze lingered on the most familiar feature—the sanpaku eyes staring back at him, crimson and unchanged despite everything else.

  "What's with my hair…?"

  He watched the reflection for a moment longer, searching for recognition within a stranger's face.

  Then he exhaled slowly, acceptance repcing curiosity.

  Questions could wait.

  Adrian remained standing beside the stream for a moment longer, watching the unfamiliar reflection ripple beneath the water's surface. The stranger staring back at him did not unsettle him as much as it should have. Change had long since ceased to be shocking; it had merely become another condition of existence.

  He exhaled quietly, eyes lifting toward the fading sky.

  "New world. New body. Add it to the list."

  The sun dipped lower behind the trees, bleeding gold through the forest canopy. Shadows stretched and merged, swallowing detail as evening approached with deliberate patience. Adrian's gaze moved across the wilderness, measuring distance, terrain, and possibility.

  "I need to find a pce to camp."

  He gathered fallen branches with efficient precision, selecting dry wood by instinct rather than guesswork. Soon a modest fire crackled to life, its glow pushing back the encroaching darkness in a fragile circle of warmth.

  The forest remained silent.

  Too silent.

  No insects hummed. No distant cries echoed. Even the wind seemed reluctant to move through the trees. Adrian sat near the fire, elbows resting on his knees, eyes half-lidded yet alert as his mind assessed danger after danger.

  Sleep crossed his thoughts briefly.

  He dismissed it.

  He did not know what lived here.

  He did not know what hunted at night.

  He did not know what punishment carelessness demanded in this world.

  So he stayed awake.

  All night.

  Dawn arrived quietly, pale light filtering through branches as the fire reduced itself to dying embers. Adrian rose slowly, fatigue weighing faintly upon his movements. Exhaustion lingered behind his eyes, though discipline kept his posture steady.

  He stretched, muscles tightening and loosening in controlled motion before returning to the stream. Cold water spshed across his face, shockingly sharp, dragging crity back into his senses.

  Then his stomach growled.

  His expression shifted in stages—first irritation, then a fsh of anger, and finally calm resignation.

  "…Damn."

  He gnced down at the grass surrounding the stream.

  "That grass is starting to look real appetizing."

  Crouching, he examined the ground carefully until he spotted an unfamiliar pnt growing between the bdes. Its leaves were narrow, faintly glossy, entirely unknown to him.

  He stared at it for a long moment.

  "…Do I really have to eat this?"

  Poison or food.

  Fifty–fifty.

  Adrian plucked the pnt and ate it without ceremony.

  No taste greeted him. No bitterness followed. Nothing at all.

  He swallowed and waited.

  "…Great."

  A faint sigh escaped him.

  "Slow-acting poison."

  The thought was discarded as quickly as it appeared. Worry without evidence held no value. Rising to his feet, his gaze drifted toward a distant elevation rising above the forest line.

  A hill.

  From afar it appeared modest.

  Up close, it proved enormous.

  "Figures."

  He began climbing.

  The ascent demanded effort his previous body would have ignored entirely. Stone scraped against his palms as he pulled himself upward, muscles adapting to unfamiliar limitations. Halfway to the summit, a rock shattered beneath his grip.

  For a split second, he dangled by one arm above open air.

  "God damn it—!"

  His body reacted instantly, shifting weight and securing another hold before momentum betrayed him. Calm returned as quickly as it had broken, and he continued climbing without hesitation.

  At st, he reached the summit.

  The world unfolded before him.

  Endless nd stretched outward in yered horizons, valleys swallowed by mist and distant mountains dissolving into pale sky. The sheer scale of it pressed against the senses, vast enough to humble even certainty itself.

  Adrian stared quietly.

  "I did all that… just to see half of it."

  The sun began its descent once more, painting the world in fading amber.

  "…The day's over already."

  Descending in darkness would be foolish. He remained where he stood, gathering wood again and building another fire as night recimed the nd. Fmes flickered beside him while the sky deepened into bck.

  He sat, thoughtful.

  Those with intact mana cores gained superhuman strength effortlessly. Power flowed naturally through them, elevating body and mind without struggle.

  Those with damaged cores—

  had to earn every fraction of strength themselves.

  Mana still existed within him. Even fractured, it rendered him stronger than ordinary humans by default. But peak physicality… perfection of the body… that required discipline rather than talent.

  That had to be earned.

  For the first time since arriving in this world, Adrian allowed himself to sleep.

  The fire crackled softly beside him as exhaustion finally cimed its due.

  "Tomorrow," he murmured quietly, voice fading into the night,

  "it's strictly training."

  Morning light returned.

  Adrian opened his eyes.