After transmigrating to a world of swords and magic, Lin En awakens the weakest class: [Summoner].
The Occupational Risk Disclosure Form spells it out clearly: summoned creatures are weak, unintelligent, and slow to grow. You must tread carefully and nurture them with caution.
He signs the contract, ready to begin his long and arduous journey of raising them.
But when he chants the spell, the first skeleton soldier he summons blinks its eerie blue soul-fire and asks him in a thick, unmistakable Northeastern accent, "Bro, where do I pick up the beginner quest?"
Before he can react, the summoning circle starts flashing like crazy.
"Quit crowding the back! Log in one at a time!"
"Why's the spawn point so tiny? One star!"
"Where are the NPCs? Hand over the quests!"
As he stares at the endless white sea of skeletons before him, all clamoring and studying the obsidian practice wall as if it were an interactive environment, Lin En hears the System repeatedly warn him in his mind: [Warning: Summoning channel overloaded]. He falls into a deep silence.
He suddenly remembers the dedication on the first page of A Beginner's Guide to Summoners: "Patience is a summoner's finest virtue."
Looking at the vanguard skeleton, already picking at the cracks in the wall with a finger bone and trying to teach the skeleton beside it the song "Dig, Dig, Dig," Lin En realizes that whoever wrote this book has never seen what a Fourth Calamity looks like.
And he, the apprentice summoner who is theoretically supposed to be the "master," has only one task right now: learn how to be a proper "game administrator" before this lawless mob of "players" tears the whole world apart.
