Chapter 1

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Zane still couldn't believe how quickly everything had gone to absolute shit. No warning. No bad feeling. Just a D-ranked Saint and an environment that was all too happy to help the motherfucker.

Whose brilliant idea was it to enter a forest during a dry season—during a literal war?!

Even as he ran, flames spread hungrily from tree to tree, licking up fallen branches and dried grass.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

A simple mission. A hundred trained men. And now? A nightmare.

He should've known better. War never went as planned. Especially not in this apocalypse.

But still—who the hell had a Saint to spare?

Saints were legends. Walking calamities. Miracles in human (or inhuman) form. They gained their powers by stepping into the rifts in space that humanity called "Gates"—because that's what they were. Gateways to other worlds.

Most Gates led to dungeon-like pocket dimensions, dangerous but conquerable. But then there were World Gates. The real deal. Those linked entire planets together. And the things that came through? Rarely friendly.

Three World Gates had opened on Earth so far.

The first? Elves. Manageable.

The second? Draconians. Problematic.

The last? Goblins. Annoying as hell.

Unfortunately, he'd run into the second one.

A Saint. A Draconian Saint, no less. With large-scale fire abilities—because of course he did.

The bastard had burned the entire forest just to wipe them out.

Zane risked a glance back. Through the heat shimmer and raging flames, he barely made out a silhouette. The thing walked casually through the inferno.

Arrogant bastard.

Zane's legs never stopped moving. He knew his limits—he couldn't fight a Saint, not even a low-ranked one. But fate seemed to be listening to his bitter ex today, because the streak of bad luck wasn't over.

"Shit."

A cliff.

Perfect.

Zane skidded to a stop, inches from the edge. No consolation, though—he was still trapped.

He'd once wondered what he'd choose if given the option: burning alive or drowning. Fire seemed quicker back then. Rip the band-aid off, right?

But now that the choice was real... his boldness wavered.

He glanced down. It was a long drop. Maybe survivable. Maybe not. It all depended on whether the Saint was in the mood to chase him.

And then—

A glow.

Zane's breath caught. That wasn't there a moment ago.

A Gate.

Right under the water? What were the odds? No, this was too much of a coincidence.

But there it was.

Humanity had learned one brutal truth about Gates: They followed a process.

First, they appeared—quiet, unnoticed.

Then, after a short period, they demanded a challenger.

Dungeons were simple: kill the boss, clear the Gate.

World Gates? Completely unpredictable. No one had ever solved one.

That's why Earth was being invaded.

But they were also the only way to gain power. Every Saint—human or otherwise—had once stepped into one and survived.

No human had ever returned from a World Gate.

Dungeon Gates? Rare, but possible.

World Gates? A gamble.

But Zane was already dead if he stayed here.

A dry, humorless laugh escaped his lips.

Behind him, the fire roared closer. His skin burned. Pain flared across his body.

But still—he grinned.

A chance.

A chance to become a Saint.

And then—he jumped.

The wind howled in his ears. Heat vanished, replaced by the sharp cold rush of free fall. His body twisted midair, limbs flailing.

The water rushed closer. And beneath it—the Gate.

He wasn't even surprised the water wasn't affected by it. Gates didn't follow common logic.

Then—

Impact.

Icy water swallowed him whole. His burns screamed in relief.

But something else pulled at him.

The Gate.

A force, impossible to resist, yanked him downward.

And then—

You have entered a World Gate.

Selecting trial…

Match found.

Welcome to Earth666.