Apex Hunter: The Strongest Solo Superhuman

Cain trudged through the city streets, his mind numb from the humiliation at the Awakening Ceremony.

But as he moved through the neon-lit sidewalks, hushed murmurs followed him.

Passersby glanced his way, some whispering behind their hands.

"That's him, right? The guy from the Awakening Ceremony?"

"Yeah... Cain Wright. Got a rare low-rank E. Must be humiliating."

"What a joke. How can someone from the Wright family be that weak?"

Cain gritted his teeth, his fingers curling into fists.

He forced himself to keep walking, ignoring the quiet laughs and pitying glances.

The ache in his ribs made every breath painful, but it was nothing compared to the hollow pit in his chest.

He just wanted to get home—lock the door, shut the world out, and figure out his next move.

But as he approached his apartment, his steps slowed. Something was wrong.

The entrance door wouldn't budge.

He tried his key—nothing.

Then, he noticed the new locks, the metal glinting coldly under the flickering hallway light.

Cain's stomach twisted.

He stepped back, scanning the apartment door, his mind racing.

No way…

Then he saw it—his belongings, stuffed in garbage bags and dumped haphazardly on the sidewalk.

The cheap furniture he had managed to buy, his clothes, even his old training manuals… all of it, discarded like trash.

A single envelope sat on top of the pile. Cain's hands shook as he tore it open.

[Ownership Transfer Complete]

His breath caught as he scanned the details.

The buyer's name stood out in bold print.

Adrian Wright.

Cain's pulse pounded in his ears as he read the rest.

[Due to outstanding rent payments and the property's recent transfer of ownership, your contract has been terminated. All personal belongings have been removed as per the eviction policy.]

His chest tightened.

Outstanding rent? 

His payment was only due today, and he was going to pay it with the little he had. So what was this?

At the bottom of the letter, a final note was scrawled in a sharp, taunting hand.

[Hope you enjoy the fresh air, loser.]

Cain's fingers crushed the paper as a sickening realization settled in.

Adrian had orchestrated everything—the beating, the humiliation, and now this.

He wasn't just kicking Cain down.

He was making sure he stayed there.

Then, he got a text message on his phone, and it was a notification from Wright Bank.

Cain tapped the screen, and his stomach dropped.

[Account Update: Your monthly allowance has been terminated. Effective immediately.]

His fingers tightened around the phone.

Seriously?

He was going to use the allowance to pay rent—not that it mattered anymore.

Now, he had no house to rent, and he couldn't even find another because he was now broke.

First, his father had cast him out of the mansion years ago when his potential was deemed worthless. Now, they had stripped him of even the pathetic scraps of life he had managed to carve out for himself.

Cain's vision blurred with rage and humiliation.

He had been cast aside, again.

The moment he turned out to be useless, they hadn't even hesitated to cast him aside.

A raindrop then splattered onto the paper, the ink smudging as if the sky itself was mocking him.

Then another.

The skies opened up, and within seconds, the city was drenched.

Cain stood frozen in the downpour, the ink smudging in his grip.

He had nothing left.

His gaze drifted to his scattered belongings—soaked, ruined.

His fingers twitched at his sides.

He couldn't even afford a motel for the night.

His teeth clenched.

There had to be someone—anyone—who could help.

Shivering, Cain took cover in the apartment entryway and fumbled for his phone with numb fingers.

There was only one person he could turn to—Isaac.

The closest person Cain could call a friend.

They had attended the same academy together.

Isaac had awakened as a C-rank—nothing special, but a rank Cain would give anything for right now.

The phone rang. Once. Twice.

Then, finally, a hesitant click.

Isaac's voice was quiet, uncertain.

"Cain…?"

Cain swallowed his pride. "Isaac, Hey, I...."

He hesitated.

"I...I need a place to stay. Just for a night. Please."

Silence.

Cain's grip tightened around the phone. "Isaac?"

A sigh came from the other end.

"Why? I thought you had an apartment."

"I was kicked out. Turns out Adrian bought the place."

Cain began to pace.

A pause.

"Then… rent a motel or something."

"I would have. But my father cut off my allowance. I have nothing."

Another long silence.

Then Isaac said:

"Cain… check the group chat."

Cain's stomach twisted.

His hands shook as he pulled up the chat.

The newest message was a video.

He tapped it. His breath hitched.

There he was—sprawled on the restroom floor, bloodied and broken, Adrian standing over him.

The chat flooded with cruel laughter and mocking comments.

[Is that the so-called "genius"? LMAO]

[Damn, I've seen F-ranks put up a better fight]

[No wonder his dad walked away. Even I wouldn't claim this embarrassment.]

[Dude got folded like a wet napkin]

[E-rank? More like Error-rank. Should've never been born]

[Bro really thought he could be a Hunter]

[If failure had a face, it'd be this screenshot right here.]

The messages kept coming, each one a fresh dagger to Cain's gut.

Cain's throat tightened.

His face burned with shame.

He wondered why Isaac wanted him to see this.

So, with a shaky breath, he asked.

"What about it, Isaac? How does this stop you from helping me?"

Isaac scoffed. "You're seriously asking me that? You're an E-rank. If I associate with you, my chances of getting into a good guild—" He cut himself off.

Cain felt a cold pit in his stomach.

It didn't make sense to him.

"How…? You know that's not true."

"I can't, Cain." Isaac's voice was quieter now. "I just… can't."

Cain's grip tightened around the phone, then he heard the faint shuffle.

The call was about to end.

Desperation clawed at Cains's throat, so he swallowed his pride. "Wait—just 20 dollars. Enough for a room. Just for one night. Please."

A heavy silence stretched between them.

Then, Isaac sighed.

"Seriously? Begging for money now?"

Cain felt something crack inside him.

It wasn't just rejection. It was disgust.

Like he was something pitiful. Something beneath

Isaac's voice came softer now, but it only made the words sting more. "Look… your family is just too scary, alright? I don't want trouble. I'm sorry."

A beep.

The call ended.

Cain stared at the screen, the empty silence pressing down on him.

He lowered his phone, staring at the dimly lit screen.

His hands shook, but not from the cold.

He suspected, but this right now proved it.

Isaac had never been a real friend.

He never once stood by Cain in public, never defended him when people whispered behind his back.

He only came around when he needed something—like copying Cain's homework, asking him to explain a theory, tutoring him before exams, or even borrowing money for academy fees he never paid back.

And now that Cain was nothing and needed help, Isaac had refused—discarding him just as easily as everyone else.

Cain exhaled shakily.

There was no one left.

A group of men then entered the apartment entrance, black umbrellas shielding them from the downpour.

At the front, an older man in a sleek raincoat—Mr. Graves, the building caretaker.

His face held no sympathy.

"You need to leave now. The new owner doesn't want you anywhere near here."

Cain sighed. "I will leave when the rains stop."

But Mr Graves wasn't having that.

At his signal, the men stepped forward, boots splashing in the puddles.

Cain's stomach twisted.

He wanted to fight, to snap, to lash out, to unleash the rage he felt on them, but what was the point?

He turned away, running off without looking back.

The rain poured harder, soaking through Cain's torn clothes.

His hair stuck to his forehead, his breath coming out in uneven gasps.

The city lights stretched before him, cold and distant.

Cars sped past without a second glance—just blurs of metal and motion.

One veered too close to the curb.

A wave of filthy rainwater splashed over him, soaking his clothes, chilling him to the bone.

Cain stood there, motionless, water dripping from his hair.

His expression numb.

Even the damn city is against me.

Cain's fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms.

His chest burned—not just from the unhealed bruises or the betrayal, but from the sheer, seething refusal to accept this.

They wanted him broken.

Powerless. Forgotten.

Like hell.

If the world wanted to cast him aside, then he would claw his way back—no matter what it took.

Failure wasn't an option. Weakness wasn't an option.

Then, a thought struck him.

Something he had come across long ago.

Back when he still lived in his father's mansion, Cain had used his father's credentials to access restricted databases meant only for high-ranking Hunters.

He had no right to be there, but no one could stop a curious teen.

And that was when he found it.

A rumor.

A forbidden serum.

A drug that could forcefully awaken powers in civilians.

The Guild Association had spent years hunting down its distributors, branding it an abomination. Countless reports detailed the crackdown—raids, arrests, entire networks wiped out. And yet, the whispers persisted.

Because the serum worked.

There were those who had taken it and survived.

Those who had defied classification, their power breaking the limits of the known system.

Cain's pulse quickened.

It was illegal. Dangerous. Potentially lethal.

But what choice did he have?

He had linked his access to the database on his phone.

And it was surprising to him that no one had found now.

Even now, it remained active.

With a few taps, he scrolled through the information, his eyes locking onto a key detail.

The distributors operated in the slums.

He didn't know how much the serum would cost, but it was probably more than he could afford.

Cain exhaled slowly, then forced himself to move.

He had nothing left—no home, no future, no place in this world.

If this serum could give him power, then even if he had to steal it, he would.

Because in a world that only valued strength, the only true crime was weakness.