Chapter 2 – Three Months Later
The world had changed drastically since that fateful day, three months ago.
Even after the shocking appearance of that mysterious young man — who declared himself the creator of the dungeons before the entire planet — governments and populations still struggled to accept the new order. Knowing who was responsible didn't make it any easier to grasp what had been lost… or what was now needed to survive.
What once seemed impossible had become the new reality — and no one could ignore it any longer.
Around the globe, governments were still scrambling to comprehend the magnitude of the changes. Their most powerful weapons — nuclear missiles, advanced drones, massive artillery — had become useless overnight. Satellites exploded in orbit like fireworks, communication lines failed, and underground bunkers fell silent. The age of conventional warfare had ended.
Now, colossal monsters emerged from dungeons that began appearing everywhere — some small and barely noticeable, others towering and terrifying, blotting out the sun. These beasts ranged from giant reptiles with scales tougher than steel to shadowy creatures that moved like whispers in the night. They roared and ravaged, shaking cities to their foundations.
Desperate to regain control, the world's militaries mobilized their forces and sent them into the depths of these dangerous dungeons. Their mission was clear: hunt and kill the monsters, seize any hidden powers or treasures, and bring some form of order to the chaos. It was a gamble — and many soldiers never returned.
Meanwhile, ordinary civilians experienced a miracle — or a curse, depending on the perspective. People from all nations suddenly found themselves "awakened." Status screens, like something out of video games or anime, appeared before their eyes. Floating in the air, they displayed details about their new abilities: levels, skills, health points, magical resistance, and more. Not even the governments could stop this wave of awakened individuals who stormed the dungeons, eager to claim their fate.
Attempts to restrict access to these portals proved useless. The sheer number of people, empowered with new abilities, overwhelmed any barrier. Society was transforming rapidly. The world had entered an era of magic, willpower, and meritocracy.
As governments held their breath, hoping their soldiers would return from the dungeons stronger and more capable, they began preparing for a new kind of war — one no longer fought with machines, but with raw power and skill.
On the other side of the planet, in a quiet village nestled in the mountains of Japan...
The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over rooftops and blooming cherry blossoms. The scent of fresh earth and spring flowers filled the air, mingling with the soft sound of cicadas buzzing in the distance.
In a narrow alley, Renji Costa Nakamura sat at the edge of a cracked stone curb, legs dangling loosely. A cool breeze tousled his dark hair, and his mixed features — gentle yet resolute — were illuminated by the pale glow of his phone screen.
News from around the world scrolled endlessly. Reports of riots, street chaos, and governments on the verge of collapse. People desperate for hope, clinging to the promise of change brought by the dungeons and new powers.
Renji's eyes skimmed through the flood of comments, full of anger, frustration, and cries for justice. Many condemned the wealthy and powerful for ignoring the suffering of the masses, while others expressed fear or disbelief.
"They want to block hope," Renji muttered, voice low but firm. "They don't understand what this means for people like us."
He shifted, pulling his knees closer as he thought about the world he had grown up in — a world where people like him, half-Japanese, half-Brazilian, often found themselves stuck between cultures, never fully belonging anywhere. But now, something new stirred inside him: a chance to change everything.
"We're not just nerds hiding in our rooms," he whispered, almost defiantly. "We're the ones who believe in a future where we can level up… protect those we love… fight for a fair world."
His fingers hovered over the screen as he sent a quick message to his mother — words of safety and hope.
From his worn-out backpack, Renji carefully pulled out a katana. The blade was old and dulled by time, but to him, it carried the spirit of his family — the legacy of his mother and the courage of those who came before him. The leather wrapping on the handle was cracked, but still firm in his grip.
He stood up and looked toward the village outskirts, where a faint, glowing portal marked the entrance to a dungeon.
The air around him seemed to hum with latent power. The scent of ozone and soil filled his nostrils, quickening his heartbeat.
He stepped closer… then paused.
The portal crackled softly, like a living creature waiting to be fed.
Renji closed his eyes.
And in the silence, a voice echoed — not from the world around him, but from his memories.
"Take care of your mother, son. That's your job now. Protect her… because I no longer can."
His father's voice. Strong, proud… and trapped behind the cold bars of a cell, where he'd been thrown for a crime he didn't commit.
A silent fury swelled in Renji's chest, but he swallowed it down, letting it harden into resolve.
"I'll protect her, Dad," he whispered. "I promise."
His hand tightened around the katana.
His mixed Eastern and Western features stood out even here — a symbol of two worlds united in one person. And in that moment, he was more than a teenager with dreams — he was a guardian in the making.
Taking a deep breath, he whispered with a faint smile:
"As fans of that Korean protagonist always say… it's time to level up."
With steady steps, he crossed the portal's threshold and vanished into the unknown.