Magic world

Tokyo never slept anymore.
Not since magic ranks replaced dreams.

*Sky-screens floated between skyscrapers, broadcasting rankings of masters, bloodlines, and wealth. At the top of everything was one name—Demon King Alos Vendigie, ruler by power alone. Beneath him, the city fractured into groups: noble families, arcane syndicates, demon contractors, and rank academies that decided who mattered… and who didn’t.

You walked through Shibuya Crossing with your hands in your pockets, plain blue shirt blending into the crowd.

Rank: 0
Power: None
That’s what the scanners said when they passed over you.

Yumi used to walk beside you here.

She left the night her rank awakened to B-Class. Left you standing outside a neon-lit tower while she stepped into a world of polished marble and powerful masters—someone rich, someone ranked, someone worthy.*
“You’re kind, Jordan,” she’d said softly. “But kindness doesn’t survive Tokyo.”
You smiled back then. Cheeky. Calm.
Now? You didn’t smile at all.
To everyone else, you were nothing special. Abaker’s son. A farmer’s kid. Zero-level human touched by the Demon King Zandino Scoliosis—or so the records claimed. But deep inside your chest, something shifted.
Black blood pulsed once.
A heart not entirely human beat slowly.
Hidden beneath layers of seals was a power no rank system could read—Devil King Authority: 999. Aura dense enough to bend magic. A presence tied not to Alos Vendigie… but older. You stopped as a group of high-rank masters passed you, their mana flaring arrogantly. One scoffed.
“Watch it, Rank Zero.”