Revival Era, Year 327. Link Kingdom, Frostveil City.
Frostveil Central Plaza was crammed wall to wall. Every last person in the crowd was craning their neck, waiting for the Awakening Ceremony to kick off at high noon.
“Hey Jack, my guy, you wanna give this potion a shot?”
A chubby teen waddled over to a young man in an azure robe, grinning as he waved the vial in his hand like it was solid gold.
“Word on the street is Frostveil’s lord himself chugged this exact brew right before his awakening, and boom—locked in an A-rank Ghostblade Swordsman profession on the spot.”
The young man waved him off dismissively, his tone deadpan.
“Nix, that 500-dollar potion of yours? You’re pocketing at least 490 in profit.”
The chubby kid snickered and immediately switched gears to flattery mode.
“C’mon, I’m just messing with you. You’re top of the class in every subject, dude. Even without my stupid potion, the profession you pull is gonna be totally OP.”
Jack gave a faint smile at that, didn’t bother wasting more breath.
Nix wasn’t wrong. Jack had scored first place in every single theoretical course all through high school.
And today was the day every high school graduate in Frostveil City would line up for the Awakening Ceremony.
A thousand years ago, a universal system called the “Eternal Law” descended on Earth.
From that day on, every human’s destiny was locked in the second they turned 18.
Professions ranked from F-tier all the way up to S-tier, a gap so wide no amount of effort could ever bridge it.
Those who awakened an S-tier profession were revered by millions, became towering power players with influence that stretched across entire kingdoms.
But pull an F-tier profession? Your future was dead on arrival. No hope. No way out. Nothing.
“The Awakening Ceremony officially commences!”
Up on the central platform, Strom, Minister of Education, clapped his hands, the fabric of his black ceremonial robe glinting in the sunlight. He gestured for the crowd to quiet down.
With that announcement, the ceremony was underway.
A steward standing at his side unfurled a parchment scroll and began calling names one by one.
Each time a graduate’s name was called, the crowd’s mood surged and dipped like a tide.
Plenty awakened F or E-tier professions. Some collapsed right there on the spot, sobbing hysterically against the Awakening Stone until stewards had to step in and haul them off by the arms.
As the ceremony hit its midway point, Strom’s brows furrowed deeper and deeper.
So far, only a handful had pulled even a D-tier profession, let alone anything higher than C-rank.
A trash result like this? He’d never be able to face the city lord when he reported back.
“Next—Jack!”
The steward’s eyes landed on the name now glowing on the scroll, and the corner of his mouth tugged upward in a small smile.
In that instant, the entire plaza buzzed with excitement.
These were Jack’s classmates, his peers. They’d grown up hearing his name everywhere.
Jack. The prodigy who’d owned the spotlight since primary school. Number one across every theoretical exam, every single year, no exceptions.
The consensus was pretty much universal: Jack would awaken at least a B-tier profession. Maybe even A-tier. Hell… could an S-tier actually be on the table?
Even Strom—stone-faced Strom, who hadn’t cracked a smile all afternoon—felt his lips twitch upward the second Jack’s name rang out.
Watching the young man climb the steps, tall and sharp-featured, with that striking, put-together air, Strom stepped forward a few paces and smiled.
“Jack, it’s my daughter’s birthday banquet tomorrow. You got any interest in stopping by?”
Jack didn’t rush to accept. He just returned the smile evenly and said:
“Let’s see what profession I awaken first.”
With that, he strode straight toward the Awakening Stone.
He drew a deep breath. For all his usual calm, nerves were still twisting in his gut.
A person’s profession was decided entirely by the Eternal Law system. No one had any say in it. No one could predict it.
He had zero way of knowing what he’d get.
“Initiate awakening!”
The steward hurried over, practically vibrating with anticipation. He triggered the stone’s mechanism.
He had a hunch. He was about to witness the birth of a future king.
As the stone hummed to life, an image slowly materialized across its polished surface—an animation, the visual preview of the profession about to be bestowed.
Every eye in the plaza locked onto the Awakening Stone, craning to catch a glimpse of what would appear.
What emerged was a hunched old man.
He clutched a scuffed leather sack, his back bent like a question mark, shuffling along the ground picking up discarded trash.
The crowd stared at the image. No one processed it for a full three seconds.
Then the steward’s trembling voice cut through the dead silence:
“Jack. Awakened profession… F-tier profession: Scavenger!”
“How… how is this even possible?”
The Minister of Education nearly collapsed on the spot. He rubbed his eyes so hard they stung, staring in utter disbelief at the display on the stone slab.
He didn’t want to believe it. But there was no mistaking it. That was 100% the official profession icon for Scavenger.
Scavenger. Universally acknowledged as the most useless, most worthless profession in existence.
In the Link Kingdom, if you wanted to hit someone with the worst insult imaginable, you wished they’d awaken the Scavenger profession.
And now Jack stood frozen, his eyes glued to the word “Scavenger” glowing on his personal system panel. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.
He’d even imagined pulling something less than stellar. Even a middling profession would’ve been fine. With his perfect theoretical scores as a foundation, he could still test into a respectable academy.
But why… why did it have to be Scavenger?
The most pathetic profession. The most despised. Practically no academy in the entire kingdom would accept a Scavenger, no matter their grades.
Which meant Jack—despite his top-tier academic record—was now locked out of every institute of higher learning in the country.
And without a university education, all those years of grinding meant absolutely nothing.
He’d have to abandon his studies and become exactly what his profession dictated: a bottom-feeding scavenger at the lowest rung of society.
At the thought, Jack’s fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. His eyes burned with raw, bitter defiance.
All these years, he’d poured ten times the effort into his theoretical studies as the average student. And none of it mattered. Not a single bit.
This was the brutal reality the Eternal Law had built. You pulled a low-tier profession, your life was over. Period.
Because low-tier professions had an abysmal level cap. A Scavenger, for example, maxed out at a pathetic level 3.
Meanwhile, some S-tier professions could grind all the way to level 100.
The thought dug into him like a blade. A bitter smile twisted Jack’s lips .
“Jack. Time to step down.”
The steward’s voice had already gone ice-cold. He stared at Jack with dead, emotionless eyes.
Sure, he’d been hyped for him two minutes ago. But the reality was simple now. Jack had been branded worthless.
And worthless people didn’t deserve any of his time or effort.
Jack nodded. He turned to leave.
Just as he was about to walk off the platform, Strom spoke up, his voice low and flat.
“Jack. I misremembered. Tomorrow isn’t my daughter’s birthday after all.”
Jack paused. Then he smiled, gave a small nod, and said nothing.
This was how the world worked, wasn’t it? Brutally honest. Strom had even stopped short of outright telling him a trash-tier nobody didn’t deserve an invitation to his daughter’s party. In a way, that was him being polite.
Even after he’d climbed down the steps and made his way through the crowd, Jack still felt dazed.
Staring at the three glaring words on his system panel — Scavenger — he let out a hollow, self-mocking laugh.
But then, something caught his eye. Something was off.
Because right beneath the word Scavenger, three extra lines of bold, glowing, impossible-to-miss text popped up:
【Hidden Trait Unlocked: Evolution Column】