As I scanned the room, my eyes darting from one corner to the next, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it resembled a prison cell. But not just any prison cell—this one had an alien design, sleek and far more modern than anything I’d ever seen on Earth. The walls were smooth, almost tallic, and etched with strange symbols that glowed faintly, casting an eerie light across the space. The atmosphere felt cold and impersonal, heightening the unsettling vibe. Yet, despite its sterile, almost clinical nature, there was an undeniable beauty to the room—a strange, otherworldly elegance—but it still felt like a cage.
There were about eight of us inside this cell—seven superhumans and .
I turned my attention to the others, their faces reflecting a range of emotions, but fear stood out the most. Despite the room’s beauty, their eyes were wide, so of them trembling slightly, and their bodies were tense, as if they were constantly on alert. It was clear they were terrified, almost as if they’d given up hope of escape or survival. The fear was palpable, suffocating the air around us.
A thought hit as I observed them: Had they been abused by the aliens? Were they kept here as so kind of experint, tortured or experinted on in ways I couldn’t even fathom? It seed like the only explanation for the raw fear in their eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder—if they had gone through hell, how much of that could I expect to face myself?
And if these superhumans, whatever they were, were this scared, it made question whether I had made the biggest mistake of my life by getting captured again... Dammit, maybe I should have stayed in the vast garbage hall after all...
LEVEL SCAN!
Thanks to my "Level Scan" passive skill, I quickly scanned each of their levels, barely able to process the numbers before my mind exploded with disbelief.
Wait, what?! Holy shit! These motherfuckers are insanely strong! I thought I was pretty strong myself, but this—this is next level! Seriously, just how the hell are they this powerful?!
Their levels ranged from Level 150 to 200, but what shocked the most was that my skill didn’t only reveal their levels—it also showed their ranks. For example, one of them was level 175, and right next to it was listed: S-Rank. Sothing like this:
[Level: 175 (S-Rank)]
Damn, this is insane! To think that even S-Rankers—those who are considered the absolute peak in the world of fantasy and magic—couldn’t stand a chance against these aliens. It’s terrifying to realize just how massive the power gap is between us humans and these aliens.
Honestly, I thought I was making so progress. When I managed to knock back one of the alien soldiers earlier, I felt a spark of hope, like maybe I was finally starting to close the gap. But now? It’s painfully clear that I still have an incredibly long way to go.
Unbelievable. If just one alien soldier is already this difficult to deal with, I can’t even begin to imagine the strength of their alien leader. And let’s be real—there’s no way that alien leader I’ve faced was the strongest. I’m sure there are other aliens aboard this colossal spaceship who are even more powerful, even higher-ranking than the alien leader. Fucking hell, these damn aliens are so much stronger than I thought; they’re literally on an entirely different level of existence.
Observing those superhumans again, I could imdiately identify their class based on the clothes they wore and the weapons they wielded. They looked almost like fictional characters from fantasy video gas, particularly MMORPGs, where you typically have a variety of classes such as Warriors, Mages, Archers, Healers, Assassins, and many more.
It was at this mont, one of the superhumans, who appeared to be from the Warrior class, approached in a friendly manner and said, "Welco! I don’t know which world you’re from, but there’s no need to be afraid of us," while extending his right hand to offer a handshake.
"Haha, I don’t know what’s going on, but nice to et you," I replied, smiling as I shook his massive, muscular hand. The warmth of his grip was surprising, and I couldn’t help but feel a little more at ease.
I don’t know why, but for so reason, I feel incredibly happy right now. It’s almost as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Perhaps it’s because it’s been such a long ti since I’ve had the chance to talk to another human being. Whatever the reason is, I’m just so excited right now—being able to talk to soone again fills with joy.
"Right, you’re probably wondering why everyone here is so quiet," he began explaining, his tone softening as he spoke. "Well... the truth is, all of us have either lost our friends or loved ones here. It’s been a tough ti. For instance, I lost my younger sister just a few weeks ago to those alien bastards. It still doesn’t feel real to . And you may not know this, but there used to be nineteen superhumans in this cell, and now... now it’s just eight of us, including you. The rest are gone, and we’re still trying to figure out what happened to them..."
I see... that explains why everyone is so quiet. I guess they’re not in the mood for any conversation, likely because they’re overwheld with fear and grief after losing either their friends or family mbers.
Well, I don’t really bla them. Those damn aliens kidnapped humans without any warning or explanation. I imagine they must’ve been shocked to suddenly vanish from their worlds and be thrown into this place.
Out of nowhere, four alien prison guards appeared, their towering forms silhouetted against the harsh, bright light. They stord into our cell aggressively, and one of them raised a thick, tal baton, slamming it hard against the cell bars with a loud, echoing clang that made us all flinch in fear.
CLANG!
"Alright! Alright! Your ti is up, prisoner #83,217! So get up now and follow us without delay!" one of the alien prison guards barked, his voice sharp and full of contempt.
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