When the cannibals were first discovered, they were graded based on the threat they posed. For instance, they were divided into three classifications:
Primary Grade: These were low-level cannibals, typically ranging from levels one to three.
Secondary Grade: These posed a moderate threat and could be handled by soldiers graded between levels four and six—matching the threat level of the cannibals themselves.
Tertiary Grade: These were the most dangerous. Highly intelligent, they could speak fluently in human languages and were graded from level seven to nine. Only elite, high-grade soldiers could deal with them.
There were also three classified ways for individuals to participate in the fight against the cannibal threat:
1. Frontliners: Soldiers who directly fought the cannibals using specialized weapons designed to harm them.
2. Support Units: Individuals like doctors, medical experts, drivers, and other aid workers who supported the frontliners.
3. Scouts: Those assigned to guard districts, observe cannibal behavior, and report findings. They weren't as exposed to direct combat but played a crucial intelligence role.
Every student in the academy wanted to be part of the frontlines. Being a frontliner meant strength, speed, fame, and money. Soldiers on the frontlines were hailed as heroes.
Mikeal was one of those people—except his reason was different. Unlike the others who were drawn by glory, Mikeal's motivation was revenge. He didn't care for recognition or riches. He simply wanted to eradicate anything and everything related to the cannibals. To him, it didn't matter what grade they were—monsters were monsters.
Of course, becoming a frontliner wasn't easy. While it came with prestige, it was also the most dangerous path. One mistake could mean death—for you or for those fighting beside you.
Mikeal wasn't entirely confident he'd qualify, or be graded high enough. A level five or higher was the minimum requirement to even be considered a frontliner.
He believed he had what it took, but he wasn't alone in that ambition. When he took a look around, it finally hit him—this was not going to be easy. More than three hundred students shared the same goal.
To make things worse, many of them looked the part—fit, muscular, tall, strong—some even looked like they were genetically engineered in underground military labs. Mikeal, while somewhat fit, still had a skinny frame. He felt like nothing compared to them.
Lt. Ashley Grey circled the group, inspecting each new recruit.
Meanwhile, Mikeal was busy examining his smart ID card. That's when Lt. Grey called everyone forward.
Mikeal thought all he had to do was pass the physicals. After all, the frontlines valued strength, stamina, and agility—traits he believed he had.
Just as he was thinking of how to stand out among the competition, a system notification popped up:
---
[Sunlight contact detected]
[Donor's life force in danger]
[Avoid sunlight at all cost]
---
He expected this. His previous experience had already shown that being in the sun severely weakened him. Still, something about the wording disturbed him.
The system called him user—again.
This was the second time it had used that term, and it unsettled him. The word made things feel more mysterious than before.
Then the pain came—agonizing, throbbing pain in his shoulder. He tried to ignore it, but it was overwhelming.
His vision blurred. His heart rate spiked. His legs trembled. Breathing became difficult. But he fought to remain standing. The last thing he wanted was to be remembered as the guy who passed out on the first day.
Someone unexpected approached him.
"Hey, Mikeal. Are you okay, man? If not, we can go sit down."
Mikeal froze.
Someone knew his name.
This was odd. No one at the academy should've known him—except Alexia, and even she rarely called him by name.
Still crouched, struggling to stay upright, Mikeal tried to focus. He squinted through the blurriness. The voice was familiar, though he couldn't place it right away.
The person stepped in front of him, casting a shadow over him—blocking the sun.
A new notification appeared:
---
[Sunlight avoided]
[Life force restored]
[Remain in the shadows for 4 hours]
---
Instantly, Mikeal felt better.
He slowly looked up at the person who had helped him, and to his surprise—it was someone he never expected to see again.
Hector House.
The same guy who had pushed him just yesterday at school was now here, at the academy.
"Hector? What are you doing here?" Mikeal asked, shocked.
"Yep. I'm here. I'm part of the academy now," Hector said with a grin.
"But… how?" Mikeal still couldn't believe it.
"None of that matters right now. The real question is: are you okay? You don't look so good."
Mikeal paused, scrambling for a believable lie. What was happening to him certainly wasn't normal.
If he told Hector the truth, he'd probably get sent to a mental hospital. Heck, even Mikeal didn't fully understand what was going on with his body.
Noticing Mikeal spacing out, Hector snapped him back to focus.
"Hey man, are you sure you're alright?"
"Uh… yeah, man. Sorry. I think it's just something I inhaled on the bus ride here," Mikeal said, hoping the lie would stick.
Fortunately, Hector believed him—or at least didn't press further. Still, it was clear he was skeptical. And honestly, who could blame him? They weren't even friends back at school. They had barely spoken.
Lt. Ashley Grey was now holding a list of names.
Beside her stood a towering, intimidating man. Muscular, old, battle-worn, with grey hair, facial scars, a gold-colored eye, and an eye patch—Sgt. Damascus.
He had a cigarette in his mouth and a presence that made the entire student body go still.
When he stepped beside Lt. Grey, every student saluted without being told to.
Sgt. Damascus took the list from her and barked out the first names for the test:
"Mikeal Park, Alexia Sky, Hector House, Celine Gates, and Griffin Hart—step forward!"
Mikeal didn't know Celine or Griffin, but he recognized the others.
As he stepped forward, a new system warning flashed:
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[Individual with cruel intentions detected]
[Standing directly behind you]
[Cruel intent: 50%]
---
Before Mikeal could even react, a whisper hit his ear:
"We meet again, punk."