So it's been ten long, chaotic years since I reincarnated.
Yup. Ten years of mayhem, magic, and me desperately trying not to obliterate reality every time I coughed.
I'm officially Lane White, reincarnated into a new modern world — one where magic, spiritual energy, and cultivation are real and widely practiced. Apparently, China and Japan still swear by Qi and Ki, while the Western countries run on high-level spell systems and wand-flicking wizardry. Hell, some people even mix both and call it Dual Flow. I call it Trying Not To Blow Up A Mountain Every Morning.
But let's rewind for a second.
My parents? Saints. Or clinically insane. Either works.
Finn White, my dad, is a hot-blooded American engineer with a doctorate in magic-tech. Basically, he builds the gadgets that keep cities from collapsing when mages accidentally summon meteor showers during lunch breaks.
Mei White, my mom, is a chill, beautiful housewife with sharp eyes and stronger Qi than half the Elders in China — not that she'd admit it. Also, surprise: she's half Chinese, half Japanese. Which makes me... well, a multicultural chaos nuke in a tiny feminine body.
We live in a cozy neighborhood in the outskirts of Tokyo. Cute houses. Polite neighbors. A couple of spirit foxes living in the mountains nearby. You know, typical fantasy-modern suburban stuff.
Now, to the fun part.
When I was one, my parents had their first real parental argument.
Over what?
Which class I should take when I grow up.
Dad: "She's going to a magic academy. It's more structured. Logical. Safe—"
Mom: "Excuse me?! Qi cultivation refines the soul. It's rooted in harmony and enlightenment. Not waving sticks and yelling Latin!"
I was sitting in my high chair sipping from a cosmic-proof sippy cup and just said, "Why not both?"
They both blinked.
Looked at me.
Then at each other.
"That's perfect!!! Why didn't I throught of that."
"Me too our baby can just learn both."
Then started flirting. Kissing. Making googly eyes.
I was sitting there like, "Bro. Get a room."
Fast forward to age three. Dad decided to start my magic training.
Basic water spell. Real simple. Should just fill a cup.
Result?
I flooded three continents.
The oceans rose. Atlantis reappeared. Mermaids filed a complaint.
Age four, Mom thought it was her turn. Time for Qi training.
"Feel the energy of the world, Lane," she said. "Connect with the spirits."
So I did.
All of them.
Ancient spirits. Elemental guardians. The Primordial Forces themselves — literal embodiments of gravity, entropy, and time — all knelt in front of me.
Mom dropped her tea. And her jaw.
"I just watched my great-great-great-grandfather bow to you like you're his Empress…"
I was four.
By age five, I threw a ball that broke the sound barrier and flew faster then light.
By age six, I lifted a car to grab that same damn ball from under it. Barely noticed.
Age seven — I kicked a soccer ball so hard it opened a rift in space-time and was later found orbiting a planet in the Andromeda galaxy.
Age eight — I sneezed and split half the planet.
I had to rebuild it.
Manually.
In like, five minutes.
By the time I turned ten, the world had collectively decided I was either a divine being, the Renicarnation of a demon lord, or the final boss of existence.
Doctors tried to scan me? Equipment exploded.
Scientists tried to analyze my cells? Microscope melted.
Cultivators tried to seal my power? Their talismans caught fire and screamed.
Mages tried containment spells? The spells ran away like they had PTSD.
At one point, they brought in a divine-level Mage-Cultivator hybrid named Grandmaster Kain, who looked like a weathered anime mentor. He tried to touch my forehead and got rebooted into a toddler.
He now attends kindergarten in Canada.
So here I am.
Lane White. Age 10. Walking Calamity.
Ninety percent of my classmates sit no less than fifteen meters away from me at all times. Desk space around me is treated like an active disaster zone.
No one makes eye contact.
Not because I'm mean or scary — I'm literally the nicest kid you'll meet.
They're just scared that if I trip, they'll get yeeted into another dimension.
I've learned to accept it.
Want to play dodgeball? Sorry, I vaporized the ball again.
Want to do art class? The paint mixed itself, summoned an eldritch deity, and created a sentient masterpiece that now lives in the teacher's closet.
Want to do math? My answer was so correct the calculator ascended.
And don't even get me started on PE class. I broke the track. The world track. We had to rewrite the Olympic standards.
But deep down... I'm still me.
Still Lee Fu. The dude-turned-girl-turned-superbeing. Still confused. Still just trying to live.
I didn't ask for this power. Didn't want to be a literal threat to the universe's Wi-Fi connection.
I just wanted to exist. To be normal, for once.
But hey, I guess that's not the Lane White way.
So, as I sit here in the back of my classroom, hovering a few centimeters above my seat so I don't accidentally crack the Earth's crust again... I sigh.
Everyone stares at me like I might sneeze a black hole.
And maybe I will.
But for now, I just pull out my homework, start writing with a pen that stabilizes reality, and whisper to myself:
"Just one more normal day... please."
Then 10 years passed.
A kaiju — not the anime kind, I'm talking skyscraper-sized, giant lizard on steroids — showed up out of nowhere and started wrecking Central City like it was a plastic toy set. The Magic Defense Force scrambled in with tanks powered by mana cores, aerial battalions flying on magic platforms, and even spiritual exorcists from multiple sects—
It didn't matter.
That thing swatted entire platoons like flies. Absorbed spells. Chewed through reinforced barriers like they were paper. They even used an ancient forbidden technique powered by sacrifice and blood, and it only made the monster sneeze.
But then—they showed up.
Six figures descended like gods from the sky, glowing with raw spiritual and magical pressure so intense the air itself wept.
The world knew them as The six Heavenly Stars.
– Aoto Tanaka: The Sword Saint, who cut through mountains and space like a lawn mower through grass.
– Minato Sato: The Storm Prophet, wielding thunder and fate itself.
– Chiyo Watanabe: The Spirit Tamer, who rides a nine-headed dragon and commands the ghosts of emperors.
– Charlet Frost: The Ice Monarch, whose presence freezes time in a five-mile radius.
– Shizu Nakamura: The Shadow Weaver, who could erase your existence from memories with a whisper and also she's the most quiet person in existence because no one hears her footsteps she's just there.
And at the center of it all…
Haoran Liu.
The leader.
The myth.
The nightmare fuel of anyone with a superiority complex.
Rumor had it, his old school in mainland China excommunicated him because his test scores were too high, his power readings kept breaking measurement tools, and the cultivation sects literally held an emergency conference to decide if he was still human.
And now?
He was the top student of Water Star Academy — the most prestigious, overpowered, mind-meltingly exclusive school in the entire world.
Now fast forward.
It's been seven years since the kaiju incident.
I'm seventeen now.
And somehow — some-fucking-how — I'm walking through the front gates of Water Star Academy.
Let me put this into perspective:
Tuition is high enough to bankrupt an entire small nation.
Entry requirements? Let's see. You need:
An IQ higher than Einstein,
Mana output stronger than military-grade warlocks,
Qi flow pure enough to make ancient cultivators cry,
And at least one parent who's either royalty, a legendary hero, or owns a small country.
Basically, unless God himself recommends you with a handwritten letter, you're not getting in.
So yeah.
"Uh... Mom? Dad?" I asked aloud, standing at the golden gates glowing with enchantments older than civilization. "You sure this was a good idea? Like... we're not rich, and this place literally has a dragon air force."
Mom's voice crackled through the comm crystal in my ear.
"You're Lane White," she said with a proud but totally oblivious tone. "If anyone can survive it, you can!"
"Survive?!" I whisper-shouted. "Mom, I'm not trying to fight a war, I'm going to school!"
Dad chimed in next. "Don't worry, princess! If anything explodes, just say it was part of your thesis project!"
"Dad. Last time I sneezed, I erased half a city block."
"Exactly! Show them who's boss!"
...
Thanks, guys.
I stepped through the gates and immediately regretted my life.
Every single person around me looked like a final boss.
One guy yawned, and rippled the space around him.
A girl laughed and accidentally summoned a rain of glowing lotus petals that healed a sick teacher on the spot.
Someone's sneeze triggered a minor time loop, and they casually fixed it like they hit the wrong button on a microwave.
Their mana pressure? Thick enough to flatten mountains.
Their spiritual energy? High enough to make normal cultivators weep blood.
Their fashion sense? Absolutely disgusting — why does everyone here look like a battle-ready supermodel?!
And here I was...
Wearing the standard school uniform. Black jacket. Crimson skirt. Hair tied up to not accidentally unravel existence.
Trying very hard not to make eye contact.
Because guess what?
I scanned the crowd.
They were all avoiding me.
Again.
I was getting the 15-meter exclusion zone treatment again.
I muttered under my breath, "Great. Day one and I'm already the class hazard."
A voice behind me whispered, "Isn't that the Lane White?"
"The one who collapsed the Moon Tower when she tripped?"
"She rebuilt it with one hand."
"No, no, she's the girl who made the Grand Spirit of Time call her 'mommy.'"
"Dude. Don't say her name too loud. She might—"
I turned slightly.
He shut up mid-sentence.
...
I kept walking.
Head down.
Mana suppressed.
Qi locked.
Hands in my pockets.
Because I knew one thing:
If I so much as stubbed my toe here, the entire school might end up relocated to another dimension.
So yeah.
Here I am.
Lane White.
Reincarnated monster.
Sealed goddess.
Walking calamity with a GPA to die for.
And I've somehow been accepted into the world's most elite school... surrounded by other absurdly overpowered freaks who might actually be able to survive if I accidentally breathe wrong.
Let the chaos begin.