Chapter 3

The streets around him bustled with life—merchants shouting their wares, knights patrolling in gleaming armor, robed scholars discussing magic theory. None of them spared him a second glance. To them, he was just another faceless stranger in the crowd.

He turned down a quieter alley, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls. The scent of fresh bread and burning lantern oil faded, replaced by damp stone and the faint staleness of an enclosed space. Here, away from prying eyes, he pressed his back against the cool wall and took a deep breath.

It was a long shot, but he had to try.

"Status."

For a brief moment, nothing happened. A cold weight settled in his chest. Maybe it really was impossible. Maybe NPCs weren’t allowed to—

[ERROR: SYSTEM OVERRIDE DETECTED.]

[UNREGISTERED ENTITY FOUND.]

[GRANTING ACCESS TO RESTRICTED FUNCTIONS...]

His vision flickered.

Then—

A translucent blue screen materialized in front of him, glowing softly in the dim light.

Ren’s breath caught.

This… this shouldn’t be possible. NPCs weren’t supposed to have status screens. That was a privilege reserved for the protagonists, the chosen few who shaped the story.

And yet—

──────[STATUS]──────

Name: Ren Hoshizuki

Role: NPC (?)

Level: 1

Skills: [???]

Unique Trait: [System Glitch – Unbound]

───────◇───────

Ren’s pulse quickened. His gaze locked onto the anomaly in his status:

[System Glitch – Unbound]

A cold shiver ran down his spine as he tapped on it.

[System Glitch – Unbound]

An anomaly in the world’s code. This entity is not bound by the prewritten script. This allows for unrestricted growth and deviation from fate.

His heart pounded.

Unrestricted growth.

Unlike the countless background characters doomed to repeat their scripted lines, he wasn’t bound by the same rules. He could change. He could grow.

The implications were staggering.

A slow grin spread across his lips.

"Fine. If this world wants to treat me like a mistake…" His fingers clenched into his palm. "Then I’ll become a mistake they can’t ignore."

First Step to Power

The path ahead was clear—get stronger.

By design, NPCs had no combat potential. They were set dressing, existing only to make the world feel alive. But if Ren had access to the system like a protagonist, then he could break that limit. He could level up.

And he knew exactly where to start.

The Slums.

A hidden mechanic in Celestial Chronicles allowed for certain low-tier NPCs to be attacked without consequence. The protagonists often used it as a grinding spot in the early chapters, testing their skills against desperate vagrants and petty criminals.

If Ren wanted to grow stronger, he had to survive the same way.

Pulling up the hood of his cloak, he made his way toward the city's underbelly.

Into the Slums

The change in atmosphere was immediate.

The well-kept roads and grand architecture of Astra City faded into crumbling stone, broken cobblestones, and narrow, winding alleys. The air grew thick with the stench of unwashed bodies, spoiled food, and stagnant water. The lanterns here flickered weakly, barely holding back the encroaching darkness.

Eyes followed him from the shadows.

Figures lurked in alleyways, half-hidden behind crates and broken barrels. The tension in the air was palpable—a constant, silent promise of danger.

Ren barely had time to process it before a voice sneered behind him.

"Well, well… what do we have here?"

He turned.

A group of thugs emerged from the darkness—grimy clothes, cruel grins, weapons glinting under the dim light. Their eyes gleamed with amusement, as if they had just found an easy target.

Perfect.

Ren’s muscles tensed. He didn’t hesitate.

He lunged forward.

The thugs blinked in surprise. An NPC… attacking first?

He grabbed a discarded wooden plank from the ground and swung with everything he had. The impact cracked against the nearest thug’s face. A choked cry escaped the man’s lips as he crumpled to the ground.

[EXP Gained!]

A rush of energy shot through Ren’s body.

It worked.

Another thug lunged at him, but Ren twisted to the side. His movements were sloppy, unrefined—nothing like a trained fighter’s—but adrenaline fueled him. He wasn’t bound by a script. He could move, react, and fight on his own terms.

A second swing. The wooden plank smashed into another thug’s knee, sending him toppling forward with a sharp yell.

Another. He kicked out, driving his boot into a third attacker’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

His breathing was ragged. His muscles ached. But he kept going.

One by one, the thugs collapsed around him, groaning in pain. And then—

[Level Up!]

Ren staggered back, gasping. A familiar blue window flickered into view, confirming what he already felt—

He was stronger.

A shaky grin tugged at his lips.

His knuckles throbbed from the fight. Sweat dripped down his forehead. Every muscle in his body protested, but he barely noticed the pain.

This was only the beginning.

He glanced down at his hands—hands that had once belonged to a background character fated to be forgotten.

Not anymore.