Vonjo was a little taken aback.

“Is this for real?” he exclaimed in shock. “I have a-?!” He was about to say system but fortunately, he stopped himself.

The teen in front was shocked by his noise. Vonjo froze, looked up, and immediately said, “Oh… Oh… Oh… systematic and intergalactic of the down…”

Then the teen looked down again.

After a moment, seeing that the teen was no longer paying attention, Vonjo cleared his throat and tapped the glowing screen in front of him.

Next, he navigated the interface with awkward fingers, still unsure how it worked, until he found the [Profile] tab.

He inhaled deeply, and after a few seconds, he exhaled. Then he tapped [Open].

Vonjo would see the contents of his profile one by one:

– Name: Vonjo Sutterfouse

– Gender: Male

– Age: 27

– Danger Level: 17 (Amount of fallen curse energy)

But when his eyes landed on the occupation, his entire world froze.

– Occupation: Exorcist (Bloodline Awakened)

Vonjo shook his head and read it again. Immediately, his vision blurred as his eyes focused on the word “Occupation.”

“Did I really?”

Occupation: Exorcist (Bloodline Awakened).

However, his entire gaze was solely focused on the word “Awakened.”

“I awakened my ability!” He screamed in his head, “I awakened my bloodline ability!” “I finally did it!” “I finally fucking did it!”

For a moment, Vonjo forgot how to breathe.

A tremble began in his fingertips, spreading like wild burning heat through the veins of his limbs. His knees nearly buckled. His eyes locked on those two words. His occupation had changed. It had finally changed.

Then the memories came flooding inside Vonjo’s head.

Every year—every single godsdamned year—from age ten to twenty… the hope, the disappointment, the resentment, it was like he was back at the moment.

He could still see the way his mother’s expression darkened each year as his test results returned void. Bloodline unawakened. Again and again and again and again.

“You destroyed my life,” her mother once whispered, face hollow. “If you had awakened, he would have stayed. But now I’m just the woman who gave birth to a failure.”

That had been his twelfth birthday.

He remembered how she avoided his gaze afterward. How she stopped cooking his favorite meals. How she began attending the noble banquets alone. How she would smear perfume over her arms just to avoid the scent of her own child.

He remembered the day she threw the broken vase at him—only to miss and scream, “Why couldn’t you have been like the others? Even a low-tier bloodline would’ve been enough! You’re not a Sutterfouse. You’re just a failure!”

And of course, he remembered him.

Vance Leonard Sutterfouse.

His father. Patriarch of the House of Sutterfouse. Cold, stern, elegant. A man who had awakened his bloodline at eight.

A prodigy who’d married three wives after Vonjo’s mother, each one bearing gifted children with awakened bloodline traits. Children who were celebrated—trained, honored.

While Vonjo was hidden. Whenever he showed up, he appeared like a man in his prime without or couldn’t find a job.

He remembered sitting in the shadows of the great hall as fireworks erupted when his half-brother awakened Crimson Doom.

He remembered the feast that lasted five days.

The nobles who danced, the swords that lit up the skies, the orchestra singing praises of the ‘future doom bringer.’

He remembered the envy that gnawed through his stomach like acid.

He remembered how each year, the celebration only grew larger—for each child except him.

The youngest daughter awakened Cerulean Doom at only eleven. And the nobles cried tears of joy, calling her a miracle child.

Meanwhile, Vonjo was twenty. Bloodline is still dormant and treated like a liability. An invisible soul.

He clenched his fists.

All of it doesn’t matter anymore! He finally awakened!

Soon, Vonjo tapped on the next section—Passive Bloodline Abilities.

First one: Multiworld Eyes.

“Hah… obvious,” he muttered. “That’s why I can see the system. Has to be. Like an observer.”

But the next one…

Endless Doom.

Vonjo’s brow furrowed. That wasn’t part of the Sutterfouse history. He’d studied every scroll, listened to every library. No Sutterfouse had ever possessed anything like that.

He tapped for more information and began reading the content. But as he read progressively, the more his body began to tremble and when he’s done, he just stood there frozen.

His mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

His eyes were wide. Too wide. His chest expanded, then contracted too fast. A surge of breath slammed into his lungs and he began to hyperventilate.

“Haa… haa… haa… what—what the—haa…”

He fell to his knees.

Even without saying a word aloud, his entire body screamed: This is too much.

Too much power just for a starter pack!

Is this for real?

He couldn’t believe it!

Now, with his face frozen in shock, he continued to scroll.

Vonjo wanted to stop there; after all, that ability should have been enough. He should have stopped there. But he kept scrolling.

Then he read the Bloodline Abilities this time.

Soon, everything froze! Only the rumbling of the van and the fidgeting movements of the main character could be heard.

Why? Because of the celestial trio.

Crimson Doom. Cerulean Doom. Ultraviolet Doom.

The trio.

The celestial trio of the House of Sutterfouse.

The Doom Trio.

The legacy of the Sutterfouse.

For generations, each child was considered a godsend if they awakened just one. Just one! Entire provinces held festivals when someone in the family awakened Crimson Doom.

People would write songs. Paintings were commissioned. There were literal statues made of his half-siblings.

And now he had all three.

He remembered how they all laughed at him. The nobles. The cousins. The siblings. “Vonjo? The useless one?”

He was always that—a half-shadow among stars.

He remembered walking in on the main family hall where they were discussing bloodline succession, only to be told to leave before he “tainted the air.”

And now…?

Now he had all of them.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to laugh until his throat bled.

Where were you?! he wanted to shout. Where were you when I needed you?!

And yet, here it was.

Right now.

Not earned through a grand ritual. Not through a noble ceremony. No blessing from a high priest, no infusion from a sacred artifact.

Just… boom. System. Gifted.

He shook his head, dragging in a breath, trying to calm himself.

He ground his teeth, feeling the storm build inside him.

“All these years…” he whispered. “And I just… get it now? Like some afterthought? This is just the starter pack?!”

Then the system flickered again.

New messages began to appear below his profile.

A live comment feed.

Vonjo blinked.

[LunaBeam69]: What the hell is wrong with his face lol

[NeonCrusher]: Bro just saw God and didn’t like it

[DeathbyChurros]: Someone check if this guy’s having a stroke

[ManaMaid]: Is he constipated or emotionally devastated? Pick one

[RedHellboi]: Eugene didn’t even flinch and he’s over there acting like his soul left his body

[Softpaw]: LMFAO this guy’s reactions are more dramatic than my last breakup

[ClockworkCrow]: If he looks like that now, wait ’til they hit Border Zone 3

[VoidTaco]: Maybe he saw his grades.

Vonjo stared.

They could see him?

His expression?

The viewers didn’t know about the system, didn’t see what he saw—but they were laughing at him. Mocking his reactions. Twisting his moment of life-altering revelation into a meme.

“Damn it…” he muttered, swallowing back his shame. “They don’t know… They don’t know anything.”

He closed the profile with a shaking hand.

Then—

A voice came from the front of the van.

It was the driver.

“Prepare yourselves!” the man barked. “We’re entering the border!”

Vonjo’s body tensed.

The other driver chimed in. “No scenes. No sudden movements. No noise. The creatures here aren’t strong—but they’re plenty. So unless you want your face chewed off by a class-3 crawler, keep your damn head down.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep