No name

Fear is fear.Whether it comes from a surveillance god…Whether it comes from a creation that defies nature itself…Or whether it comes from an overpowered human.
And among them—despite fear being fear—one stood as the most terrifying.
It was that overpowered man, grinning at the screen.
W’s voice echoed through the hall, calm yet unshakably serious.
W: “I don’t remember asking you to act, Number 28.”
The man’s smile faded, not with sadness, but with disappointment.
Number 28: “Huh? Number 28? Can’t you call me by my nam—”
W cut him off.
W: “Number 28. Return to your station. I won’t ask again.”
Annoyance flickered across Number 28’s face.
The rest of us stood frozen in shock. Nobody moved. But I could see trembling hands scattered across the crowd. Everyone understood the situation—someone was watching us, someone who could kill at any time. Creatures lurked among us, hidden in the mass. And standing there was a man who could crush you like a tin can with his bare hands.
Everyone knew: moving meant becoming the target.
“With his bare hands… is he even human?” I thought.
My eyes drifted to Kaal. He was still humming softly, lips curved in that unsettling calm. He stood close to me, but even then I couldn’t make out what tune he was humming.
Number 28’s voice snapped me back. He stomped on the corpse at his feet and muttered:
Number 28: “Hmm… let me think… Sorry, but I don’t feel like going.”
Then—his head snapped to the side. Too fast for us to even see it move.
A sound followed. A sharp thwack, metal striking the wall.
Number 28: “Hey, W. Do you think I’m a joke? Now you’re playing with bullets.”
His tone had shifted, slightly more serious.
"A bullet… suppressed gunfire? Really?" I thought.
W’s voice remained steady.
W: “I’ve already told you to leave. Don’t make me repeat myself, Number 28.”
Anger twisted Number 28’s expression. His eyes flared red, burning like stars in a void, and his grin widened into something terrifying—like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.
Number 28: “Hey, Talking Alphabet… you think you can handle me? You think you can kill me? Huh? Okay then—try.”
W replied, voice calm as ever.
W: “I never said I would kill you. I only said your transactions will be delayed if you refuse to leave.”
The man’s expression returned to its unnerving normalcy.
Number 28: “Ah… whatever. Now you’re making it personal. Fine. I’ll leave.”
A gate materialized in the wall, and Number 28 casually strolled toward it.
Number 28: “Next time, try something else. D-Energy infused bullets won’t kill me. Hahaha.”
As he walked away, his wandering red pupils locked onto me for just a split second. My chest tightened, and it felt like my heart skipped a beat. He smirked at me—then vanished through the gate.
I glanced at the ground.
“Wait… nothing? Where’s the corpse he was stomping a moment ago?”
Kaal spoke before I could ask aloud.
Kaal: “Probably the cleanup team. I saw them before coming.”
How does he know that? I thought. I wanted to press him, but I didn’t.
W’s voice cut through the silence again.
W: “Ahm, ahm. Hello everyone. I’m terribly sorry for the earlier interruption. The anomaly we eliminated was a spy, so don’t dwell on it. Let’s get to the point. Do you see the bands we handed you?”
The bands on our arms pulsed yellow, radiating a faint warmth. I felt something inside me stir—an energy I couldn’t explain—that resonated with the band.
A number appeared on mine: B102.
W continued.
W: “The bands carry two things of importance. First is a letter: your rank. For you rookies, the ranks are D, C, B, and A. D is the lowest. A is the highest. Beyond that is S rank, but you don’t need to worry about that yet.”
He paused before continuing.
W: “Second is the number. That’s your individual identity. We don’t call you by names here—only numbers. Like Number 28. So if your band reads A100, that means you’re Number 100, Rank A. Any questions?”
The room remained silent.
“Like anyone would dare ask after what just happened,” I thought.
But then, unbelievably, an old man with a gray beard raised his hand.
“Has he lost his mind?” I thought.
W called on him.
W: “Yes, Number 98. What is your question?”
The old man asked plainly, almost fearlessly:
Number 98: “On what standards were our ranks determined?”
For the first time, W’s voice carried a hint of approval.
W: “That’s a good question, Number 98. The answer is simple: D Aura.”
He continued without pause.
W: “You must be curious what D Aura is. I don’t have time to explain fully, but think of it as a river flowing along your nervous system. It grants abilities beyond normal humans—speed, strength, power. Your rank is determined by how well you control that river.”
Number 98 nodded silently and lowered his hand.
W spoke again, his tone firm.
W: “Now, the most important thing.”
The giant screen bearing the stylized W slid upward with a whoosh, revealing four massive doors behind it, each marked with a letter: A, B, C, D.
W: “I think you understand. Enter the door with the letter matching your band. And yes, you will be paid. We don’t need free laborers. After all, this is still a democratic country. Now, go.”
The screen flickered once more, then shut off.
Behind us, armed soldiers advanced, ensuring no one even considered running.
“My band says B. Does that make me weaker than the soldiers? Of course it does. They’re all A ranks. Escape is impossible.”
I looked toward Naman. He glanced back with his usual annoyed face.
Naman: “What are you staring at, dumbass? Wanna go one-on-one?”
I stayed silent, but something gnawed at me. Why had Naman’s expression earlier been so emotionless, his eyes so sharp? That wasn’t like him. Was W using some kind of influence on him?
Before I could ask, Kaal spoke.
Kaal: “Hey, Yash. You want to escape this place, right?”
His eyes were relaxed, his smile calm.
Then I saw his band. My eyes widened.
S150.
He was an S-Rank.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely steady.



              —END OF CHAPTER—