Rarity breeds desire, but I am no prize to be won
___________________________
Believe me when I say coming to this world through a questionable method wasn't half as shocking as watching everyone treat me like a gem found in a pile of rocks.
If this is how excited they get over a C-rated Limitless, do they throw national parades for the higher-ranked ones?
Walking down the academy hallway, I rubbed my chin and threw suspicious glances at Dr. William, the examiner. He noticed and came to a stop.
I halted too, staring him down.
"Do you have a question?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.
I nodded without hesitation.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you guys a bit too excited about the ability of a C-rank Limitless?"
Dr. William's lips curved into a smile—but there was something else too. A look of pity. The kind a rich man gives a kid begging by the road.
"It's a shame you don't see your value." He shook his head and sighed. Then he continued, "In war, what do you think is the most important factor that decides the winner?"
The question threw me off. I was silent for a moment, genuinely unsure. I'd never thought about that before.
William noticed and smiled wider.
"Supplies," he said simply.
But that one word triggered a flood of thoughts. I found myself nodding slowly.
"True… Ammunition, food, water, medical supplies. Those are what keep an army fighting."
"Exactly," he replied, nodding approvingly. "You're smart. That'll go well with your support-type ability." He patted my shoulder before walking ahead.
I watched him go, my brows furrowed. So to them, I'm basically a walking, talking supply vault. That means there's no one else in Texas with my ability—otherwise they wouldn't be acting like this.
So much for keeping a low profile.
I sighed and followed after him.
The hallway was massive. We walked for nearly twenty minutes before reaching two towering doors with eagle-shaped armrests. As we got closer, the doors slid open automatically.
So… what's the point of the armrests? Decoration? Fashion?
I didn't know. Adam wasn't exactly into that kind of stuff.
Beyond the doors was a huge, 200-seater auditorium. The seats were arranged in a semi-arc facing an elevated podium. A massive flat-screen TV covered the entire wall behind it.
There were barely fifty people inside. A quarter full, at best. A petite woman stood behind the podium, looking like a kid who got lost in her mom's clothes. Her suit and skirt were oversized, and her large glasses didn't help.
Honestly, she looked my age—maybe even younger.
As we entered, silence fell like a hammer. Curious eyes turned toward us, but the curiosity vanished the moment they saw me.
As expected. I'm hideous.
I followed Dr. William to the podium. Up close, the woman looked like she was 16, playing dress-up for Career Day.
"The new student I mentioned," Dr. William said. "This is him."
When did that conversation happen?
She smiled with a weird, almost disarming look in her eyes. Her whole vibe screamed "lower your guard," which made me instinctively raise mine.
She stepped forward and extended her hand.
"I'm Pamela. Your homeroom teacher," she said, still smiling.
"Adam Black." I shook her hand, eyes drifting to the quiet students behind her.
Pamela gave a nod, then turned to the class. Still holding my hand, she led me back to the podium and spoke up.
"Show them what you can do," she said.
Wow. Not even a proper welcome? Just 'show us your powers'?
Was this normal here? Did they seriously judge people entirely based on talent?
Even without my memories, I could feel how wrong that was. The people from where I came from—wherever that was—must've been way more polite than this.
I sighed.
"Adam Black," I said again, snapping my fingers.
The space around me wobbled unnaturally. Pamela instinctively took a step back as the class leaned forward.
My fingers sliced the air like a knife through cloth. I reached into the ripple and pulled out... a table knife.
"My ability lets me access a pocket dimension. I can store and retrieve things at will."
I tossed the knife back in and sealed the space.
"Oh—and yes. I can fit a car in there."
Silence.
Pamela's eyes widened. A few students stood up without realizing it.
Apparently, everyone here understood the value of this ability.
Everyone but me.
_______
My introduction had caused a small commotion, forcing Pamela and Dr. William to step outside for a short discussion.
Students who had earlier lost interest in me began sneaking glances. Some were even bold enough to smile or wave. The sudden shift from disinterest to friendliness made my stomach churn.
So much so, my head began to ache.
Ignoring their greedy eyes, I picked a seat in an abandoned part of the auditorium. From a distance, I studied my classmates and realized something.
There was no age limit here.
While some looked as young as me, many were clearly older—one even had streaks of gray in his hair. It made sense. The awakening of [talents] followed no pattern. Sometimes it found the young. Other times, the old. Humanity had no control over it.
It was chaotic... just like the collapsing universe.
Did my old world also receive gifts like this? I mumbled, eyes narrowing.
Thud!
The heavy sound of footsteps snapped me out of my thoughts. Looking up, I saw a man who looked more like a bandit than a hero.
He wore a black sleeveless turtleneck, black trousers, and boots. His bald head and thick beard gave him a thuggish air.
From his features, I guessed he was in his late thirties—maybe even early forties. He must've awakened his talent long after his prime.
Pity.
Bam!
He slammed his hands on my desk. It shook violently under the weight as he leaned toward me.
I scoffed and lifted my face to meet his glare. Unmoved.
He frowned.
He wanted me to be scared. He wanted to see me tremble.
"Yes?" I raised an eyebrow, eyes locked with his.
He pulled back slightly, stunned by the resolve of someone so young. Whispers rose from the clusters of students nearby. Some were amused by my reaction.
"I go by the name Blade out here," he said quickly, like he was trying to save face.
"And?" My voice dripped with impatience.
Blade flinched again.
After everyone's earlier reaction to my ability, I'd figured it out—I was a rare commodity. A prize.
And if I was that valuable, I wouldn't make it easy for anyone to acquire me. I'd stand above them and watch them fight just to earn a sliver of my favor.
Footsteps echoed from the entrance. We all turned instinctively.
Pamela walked in with a childish spring in her step. Her eyes landed on Blade and me.
To my surprise, Blade turned pale with genuine fear. His body trembled. He stumbled over his words, scrambling for an excuse.
"I… we… they… no, me..."
"To your seat," Pamela said softly.
The whole class fell silent as the tough-looking Limitless bolted back to his seat like a child about to be punished.
Never judge a book by its cover.
I watched Pamela with growing interest as she returned to the podium and locked eyes with me.
"Since talents awaken at random, there are no formal academic sessions here," she began, her childish voice still grating on my ears. "When a Limitless is discovered, they train here until they're ready for deployment."
I raised my hand.
"Yes?" Pamela tilted her head.
"If there are no sessions, how do you tell older students from newer ones?" I asked, shifting my gaze toward Blade. "Clearly, age isn't a useful measure."
Laughter erupted across the room. Pamela turned her face and covered her mouth with a hand, trying not to laugh.
Bam!
Blade slammed his fist into his desk, shattering it. He sprang to his feet with a glare aimed at me. But he froze mid-step.
His rage faded instantly.
He went pale again.
I followed his eyes and saw Pamela staring at him, her face twisted in fury.
She's an open book… completely unable to hide her emotions. Is that her personality—or part of her talent?
Each second with this homeroom teacher made her more intriguing.
Blade sent one last warning glare my way before sitting down and lowering his head. It left me wondering—what exactly had Pamela done to earn the obedience of nearly fifty Limitless students?
She had to be something special.
"Seniority means nothing in this academy," Pamela continued, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Instead, the academy runs on contribution points. To graduate and become a full Limitless, a student needs to earn 10,000 points. And those points can only be gained by..."
"Raiding dungeons," I cut in.
She didn't seem to mind. In fact, she smiled.
"Territories, to be exact. Not dungeons," she replied, her smile stretching wider.
"What?" I raised an eyebrow, confused.
Pamela nodded and leaned into the mic.
"Behind those rifts… are territories. Not dungeons."