I Quit My Cushy Job, And Now I Am The Weakest Adventurer - Laevos -

Ridire had everything a sensible man could want. A stable job at Dragon Kin — the largest megacorporation on Laevos. Corporate augmentations regulating everything from his sleep to his stress. A comfortable apartment in a floating city, a respectable title, a clear career ladder.

He also had a habit his boss politely pretended not to notice: rewatching crystal footage of a failed Colossal Hunt from thirty years ago. He'd seen twelve people die on that ridge one hundred and eleven times, imagining himself standing where they fell — succeeding where they couldn't.

Then, one gray afternoon, he said two words: "I quit."

Dragon Kin reclaimed their property within the hour. The metabolic regulators. The sleep stabilizers. Every integration his body had quietly leaned on for three years, stripped out by reversal runes and called back into corporate inventory. What crashed onto his apartment floor that night wasn't the man from the daydreams. It was what was left underneath — and there wasn't much.

No strength. No skills. A Mana Condenser so untrained it barely registered on the Guild's intake plate. The lowest rank the Adventurer's Guild can stamp on a chit: F.

The strength he thought he had was never his. Now he has to earn the real thing — one contract, one scar, one rung at a time, in a world where knights carry living blades, corporations patent magic itself, and the Wilds have never once been conquered in ten thousand years of civilization.

History doesn't remember middle management.

He intends to give it something else to remember.

Cyberpunk-meets-high-fantasy progression epic. No stat screens, no system, no reincarnation — just a man discovering the difference between the power you're given and the power you earn.