The First Legendary Dragon Tamer

TLuke stared at Kevin's hand, unmoving.

The faint hum of the arcade's neon sign outside filled the silence, a shrill insect buzz that made the moment feel even heavier.

His instincts screamed at him not to trust this man. Kevin knew too much, had followed him for too long, and was far too casual about dragging him into a deathmatch against one of the most notorious criminal organizations in the country.

But the alternative? Sitting still while a "Dragon Fang" tracked him down like prey?

That wasn't an option either.

Finally, Luke exhaled slowly and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Instead of shaking Kevin's hand, he held out the glowing screen.

"Give me your number," Luke said flatly.

Kevin's eyebrow arched, but a smile tugged at his lips. He typed his number in quickly, handed the phone back, then tilted his head expectantly.

Luke typed his own number into Kevin's phone before tossing it onto the seat between them.

"But don't call me yet," Luke added, voice firm. "Contact me after three days."

Kevin frowned. "Three days? Why wait? Time isn't on our side, kid. The Fang could arrive any moment."

Luke's gaze was sharp. "Because in two days, I'll be… busy. And I'll be gone for a full day. If I go into this blind, I won't stand a chance. I need time to prepare. When I'm back, then we can talk about your suicide mission."

Kevin studied him for a long moment. He wanted to argue, Luke could tell, but instead the older man gave a curt nod.

"Fine. Three days."

He leaned back in his seat, fishing into his jacket pocket before producing a folded sheet of paper. He slid it across the console.

"Here. Homework."

Luke eyed the sheet with suspicion before unfolding it.

On it were neat, handwritten notes, bullet points lined with red ink for emphasis:

Nine Dragon Heads – The leaders of the Alliance. Each controls a vast network: smuggling, extortion, trafficking, and politics.

Dragon Fangs – Generals who answer directly to the Heads. Each Fang commands hundreds of enforcers, killers, and specialists. They are the Alliance's hands in the field.

Dragon Claws – Elite soldiers under the Fangs. Trained, disciplined, utterly loyal. Dangerous in groups.

Dragon Scales – The grunts. Street-level enforcers, disposable muscle.

Dragon Eyes & Ears – Informants, spies, contacts within the government and police.

At the bottom, a simple note: If a Fang is coming, it means a Dragon Head ordered it personally. That means someone important wants you dead.

Luke's chest tightened as he read. He glanced up.

"You expect me to believe all this?"

Kevin sighed. "I don't care if you believe it. You'll see it yourself soon enough."

Luke folded the paper neatly, tucking it into his pocket. His expression was calm, but his mind was a storm.

This was real. This was bigger than him. He was in the crosshairs of something monstrous.

Kevin checked his watch. "Clock's ticking. Three days. Please… don't waste it."

Luke opened the door, slipping out into the cool night air. Before shutting it, he looked back once, his hood shadowing his eyes.

"What's your name?"

"Kevin."

"If you try anything funny, Kevin, you'll regret it."

Kevin chuckled softly, but his eyes were deadly serious. "I won't. There's nothing I want more than to take down this organization."

The door closed.

Luke walked away, his figure swallowed by the neon glow and city noise.

He returned to his small apartment, mind racing. The paper in his pocket felt heavier than it should, like a stone dragging at him.

He sat at his desk, spreading the sheet out again under the dim lamp. His eyes traced each line.

'Dragon Fang… General… Nine Heads…'

The structure was terrifying. It was more than just a gang—it was an empire. And now, because of one reckless mistake, he was in their books.

His phone buzzed. A message from Kevin.

"Don't run. It'll only make you easier to find. Use these three days wisely."

Luke didn't reply.

He powered off the phone and shoved it aside.

********

[The Next Morning]

The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the hospital room. Machines beeped softly, keeping rhythm with the frail breaths of the man lying in the bed.

Luke stood by the bedside, hands in his pockets. His adopted father lay still on the bed.

"Old man…" Luke muttered quietly, his voice rough. "You always said I'd end up in trouble one day if I didn't straighten out."

He clenched his fists. "Guess you were right."

He pulled out his wallet, tucking some cash under the tray table for the nurses. It wasn't much, but it would keep his father's care steady for a while longer.

He lingered for a few minutes, watching the man who had raised him, before finally turning and walking out.

Later that day, Luke reported to the construction site one last time.

His supervisor, a burly man with a permanent frown, looked at him with suspicion as Luke handed over his resignation.

"You sure about this, kid? Work's steady. Ain't glamorous, but it pays."

Luke nodded. "I've got… other things to handle."

The man grunted, scribbling a signature on the paper. "You always were a strange one. Don't get yourself killed out there."

Luke gave a faint smile. "I'll try."

**********

[Two Days Later – Evening]

Luke sat in his small room, VR pod looming beside his bed like a futuristic coffin. His heart beat steadily, but his nerves buzzed with unease.

On his desk, Kevin's notes lay spread open again. He had memorized them word for word, burned them into his mind.

He tapped the pod, muttering under his breath. "If I'm going to fight a Fang, I need to get stronger."

With a deep breath, he slipped inside the pod, sealing it shut. The world outside dimmed, and the familiar hum of the machine filled his ears.

Luke whispered. "Log in."

The familiar flicker of light engulfed him as the real world dissolved.

But instead of the usual serene loading screen, a blaring red notice filled his vision:

[System Notice: Compulsory Quest Assigned]

[Warning: Duration of this Quest will exceed the usual time frame.]

[This Quest cannot be declined.]

Luke's breath hitched. "What?!"

Another message appeared, cold and final:

[Reason: Mandatory Scenario Progression. The player has been granted one week of real-world time specifically for this quest. Attempting to resist or exit will result in penalties.]

Luke's mind reeled. So that was it. That was why the System had given him a week of real time off.

It wasn't generosity—it was preparation.

His chest tightened. Kevin was expecting him in three days. But if this quest dragged longer than that…

"Damn it," Luke muttered, gripping his fists. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

The System chimed again:

[Compulsory Quest: The Dragon Hunter Academy's Star]

[Commencing Now.]

Light swallowed him whole.