Liam Hardwam was, without exaggeration, the unluckiest twenty-three-year-old to ever breathe atmospheric air. He had been dumped three times, fired twice, and once struck by a falling vending machine (don't ask). But nothing—absolutely nothing—compared to his final misfortune.
A plane fell on his house.
Not crashed near it.
Not clipped the roof.
Direct hit, right on his living room—while he was inside.
"Ahh yes… Plane-kun finally noticed me," he muttered in his last conscious moment, because he'd read way too many anime memes.
Darkness swallowed him.
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Rebirth.exe Loading… Please Wait
Liam awoke to warm blankets, a grand chandelier, and the uncomfortable sensation of being a baby.
He tried to scream. It came out as "Gueeh!"
A maid rushed in. "Young master! Lord Helion's son is awake!"
Young master? Helion? That name sounded like something from a JRPG where the nobles all had overly dramatic hair.
He caught sight of a silver crest engraved on the wall—a roaring lion made of flames. Oh yeah. This was definitely a game-world.
He had been reincarnated.
Liam waited eighteen years—growing, training (badly), and preparing himself for god-tier destiny. On his eighteenth birthday, the divine status window finally appeared with a heavenly chime.
He trembled with anticipation.
This is it—the moment my ultra-OP cheat skill reveals itself. Harem route, here I come.
The glowing letters appeared.
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Name: Liam Helion
Race: Human
Class: ???
Stats:
STR: F
AGI: F
MAG: F
INT: F
VIT: F- (the minus felt like a personal insult)
LOOKS: F (borderline F-)
Unique Skill:
Description: Grants minor charm when acting convincingly. Allows user to perform believable expressions, postures, and emotional displays. Effects are negligible in combat.
---
Liam stared at the floating letters.
"…What the hell kind of scam is this?!"
He was the son of the Helion family—one of the strongest bloodlines on the continent. His father could punch dragons. His mother could vaporize mountains. His older sister once yelled at a god and made it apologize.
And he had…
F stats.
And a skill that made him slightly better at pretending to be someone else.
He wanted to cry, but even his crying stat was probably F.
---
The Harem Dream Begins… and Immediately Ends
"So what will you do with your birthday wish, young master?" the family butler, Garus, asked him.
Liam puffed out his chest. "I will begin my journey to assemble a glorious harem—!"
Garus blinked. "…Of course you will."
Liam walked confidently into the marketplace, cloak fluttering dramatically. He had practiced this scene for days. He imagined girls swooning instantly.
"Time to roll my ability," he whispered. "
His body shifted. His eyes sparkled. He delivered the line:
"Ladies, fear not! A noble hero has arrived!"
A child cried.
A vendor flinched.
Two girls burst into laughter.
One pointed at him. "Is he… is he acting handsome?"
"He looks like a dehydrated carrot in a cape," the other added.
Liam's soul cracked in half.
He rolled his skill again. And again. And again.
A dramatic wink—failed.
A smoldering gaze—looked like he had dust in his eye.
A cool-boy grin—resembled constipation.
Even worse, the charm effect of
—his LOOKS stat was still F.
---
A Ray of Hope (maybe)
Dragging his dignity behind him like a corpse, Liam returned home. He threw himself onto his bed.
"Why give me this useless skill?" he groaned. "What am I supposed to do with acting?! Fight monsters with improv comedy?!"
But then a notification flickered.
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Due to repeated high-intensity emotional role-playing, your skill has evolved.
New Effect:
When performing a role with absolute conviction, the world may briefly treat your performance as truth.
(Warning: Duration is short. Failure is humiliating.)
---
Liam sat upright.
"Oh… oh that's actually kinda broken."
A grin crept onto his face—still F-tier, but determined.
If he could act strong, maybe he could be strong.
If he could act charming, maybe someone would fall for him.
If he could act like a harem protagonist…
…well, reality would just have to deal with it.
"Alright, world," he whispered, eyes blazing with delusional hope. "You reincarnated the wrong unlucky guy."
And thus began the legend of the F-rank actor aiming for S-rank romance—and maybe even heroism—one embarrassing performance at a time.