Sorcerer's Handbook - Chapter 156: Observer Ashe

Hadica was built around one of five Towers, an infinite structure filled with floors of monsters, magic, and treasures that the city plunders like clockwork. Most of the city, at least. Growing up in Westhill, Micah's family abstained from all of their Tower's bounties. He became an [Alchemist] at an age younger than most and just wanted to level in peace, but soon ran out of mundane ingredients to brew into potions. Ryan is a budding [Fighter] with the strange ability to mimic beasts, including monsters, but he doesn't understand it or even himself. After a Tower climb goes horribly wrong, their lives and the world around them begin to change as they try to figure out who they want to be.The Salamanders is a slow-paced story about characters growing up in and exploring a fantasy setting. It updates sporadically. Please mind the tags.

The world has changed into something like a game.

It resembles a survival virtual reality game where people were attacked by zombies and monsters.

And I was the last user of that game.

Akira, was born in the slum and wishes to get out but the only way he could was to risk his life in these ruins as a hunter.

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.