My name is Theo Lockhart.
I was born into a modern world where the System has always existed.
No one remembers the exact moment our world connected to the other realms. History books say it happened long before my great great great great great grandparents were born. Gates appeared. Rules followed. Civilization adapted. What began as fear eventually turned into routine.
Now the System is part of daily life.
Every human is born with stats.
They appear the moment we open our eyes for the first time. Strength, Agility, Vitality, Intelligence, Luck. Private values visible only to the owner and a restricted government division. Those numbers update once a year. No exceptions.
Without registration, you cannot enroll in school. You cannot open a bank account, get a job. Even renting an apartment requires a verified stat profile.
Most people treat stats like personality traits. Something you are born with, something you learn to live around. Some choose ordinary careers. Others aim for realm-related work. Dungeon management. Resource logistics. Escort teams. Gate research. The pay is absurd, the risks worse.
There are also rare individuals who can see another person's stats directly. They are called Observers. Most work for the government. A few disappear into private organizations.
I met one when I was five.
She cried.
At birth, my stats looked like this.
Strength: 1
Agility: 1
Vitality: 1
Intelligence: 12
Luck: minus infinity
The word minus infinity blinked red.
Luck is the one stat no one jokes about. It governs coincidence, survival, timing, probability. The System never explains it, but everyone understands it.
Bad luck ruins lives and mine was infinite.
I died three times on the day I was born.
Once from cardiac arrest. Once from respiratory failure. Once because a machine malfunctioned in the neonatal ward. Each time, the world reset.
The first few rebirths pushed me back into infancy. Then toddler years. Then childhood. Death followed patterns at first. Accidents. Illness. Structural failures. Stray objects. Random encounters that should never have happened.
By the time I was two, I had already died nine times.
By ten, I stopped counting manually.
By fifteen, I stopped panicking.
By twenty-one, death stopped bothering to rewind everything.
Now, whenever I die, I return to my twenty-first birthday.
The same room. The same cake. The same System prompt hovering in the corner of my vision.
I once survived ten months past that date before getting crushed by falling debris during a routine train ride. When I opened my eyes again, candles were burning, my phone was vibrating, and my mother was knocking on the door.
The System does not explain this.
Neither does Death.
Today is my twenty-first birthday again.
I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at my stats.
Strength still reads 1.
Agility remains 1.
Vitality refuses to move.
Intelligence increased by studying, repetition, memory refined through eighty lifetimes. So I'm pretty smart im a sense, but my intelligence can't still compensate with my negative luck.
Luck continues to blink red. Minus infinity.
Outside, the world prepares for registration season. Students update records. Adults renew credentials. Realm contractors finalize selections.
I already know how this day ends.
What I do not know is why the System has not erased me yet.
Or why Death keeps letting me come back.
If this world insists on killing me, then fine.
I will keep returning.
Until even Death gets tired.