There's a certain… clarity that comes with death. Or at least, I assume there is. For me, the whole thing was less about profound life revelations and more about a horrifying, all-encompassing void that swallowed every memory I'd ever had.
One moment I was… well, I don't know what I was. The next, I was an amnesiac consciousness floating in an endless, featureless black. It's like waking up from a dream and trying to remember the details, but the details are your entire identity. Gone. Poof.
The only thing that remained, stubbornly clinging to the wreckage of my psyche, was my name: Alexander. Well, that and a deep, inexplicable fondness for Japanese animated entertainment, sprawling fantasy epics, and books with suspiciously long titles. You know, the important things.
Okay, Alex. Don't panic. You're a disembodied soul in a void. This is fine. This is… a classic isekai opening. If a goddess doesn't show up in a frilly dress to offer me a cheat skill in the next five minutes, I'm going to demand a refund from the universe.
Mentally grumbling to myself was my only defense against the crushing loneliness of the void. I mean, what kind of lazy, low-budget afterlife was this? No light at the end of the tunnel, no angelic chorus, just an eternity of thinking about the One Piece episodes I'd never get to see. A truly tragic fate.
I was in the middle of an intense internal debate—could I, a being of pure thought, still experience a sugar crash if I mentally consumed a whole cake?—when the void decided to disagree with my assessment.
'THIS IS BORING.'
The voice wasn't a sound. It was a fundamental truth that suddenly inserted itself directly into my consciousness, bypassing my non-existent ears entirely. The darkness around me shimmered, not with light, but with a kind of deep, ancient presence that felt older than time.
"Whoa," I thought-projected, because you can't exactly gasp without lungs. "Rude much? I was having a perfectly good existential crisis here."
A shape coalesced before me. Calling it a being is a compliment. It was more like a shadow of a concept, a massive, vaguely humanoid form made of starlight and indifference.
'YOUR CRISIS IS BORING. YOUR ENTIRE DEATH WAS BORING. I AM BORED,' the voice echoed in my mind, sounding for all the world like a cosmic teenager complaining about the lack of good WiFi. 'I HAVE A PROPOSITION.'
"Let me guess," I projected, my thoughts dripping with sarcasm. "You're going to reincarnate me into a fantasy world with a cheat skill to fight a demon lord, all for your entertainment? It's a bit cliché, don't you think? I want to speak to your manager."
There was a pause that felt like a billion years. The being's starlight rippled with what I could only interpret as mild amusement.
'YOUR CYNICISM IS NOTED. BUT YES. YOU WILL SPIN THE WHEEL.'
Suddenly, a colossal wheel materialized out of the void, as wide as a planet. It had an impossible number of segments, each one flickering with the name of a different world. I saw segments for "Generic Fantasy Land #37," "Post-Apocalyptic Dumpster Fire," and… "The Beginning After The End (Modified Version)." The wheel started to spin with a roar that seemed to shake the very fabric of reality, and I held my non-existent breath.
Come on, come on, anything but the dumpster fire…
The wheel slowed, the clicks echoing like thunder, and finally, with a sound of celestial gears locking into place, it stopped. The pointer landed squarely on "The Beginning After The End (Modified Version)."
'INTERESTING. A WORLD OF MAGIC, MONSTERS, AND IMPENDING WAR. BUT AS NOTED, THIS IS THE "FUN" VERSION. THE NATIVES HAVE BEEN... MOTIVATED. THE CREATURES ARE STRONGER. THE WORLD IS MORE DANGEROUS. THE POLITICS ARE EVEN MORE TEDIOUS. NOW, SPIN AGAIN FOR YOUR TOOL.'
The first wheel vanished, replaced by a smaller, but equally absurd, wheel. This one didn't have world names, but titles like "Ultimate Warrior," "Grand Magus," and "Walking Plot Contrivance." It spun with a whirring sound like a thousand slot machines having a party, and landed on: "Random Gacha System."
"Seriously?" I projected, a laugh escaping my mind. "All that power and you're just giving me a loot box addiction as a cheat?"
'IT IS AN ELEGANT SYSTEM FOR AN UNCERTAIN SOUL. YOU WILL NOT KNOW YOUR POTENTIAL UNTIL YOU DISCOVER IT. IT CREATES THE BEST NARRATIVE. NOW, PREPARE YOURSELF, ALEXANDER. ENTERTAIN ME.'
A universe of light exploded in my vision.
The first thing I felt was a lumpy mattress that felt like it was stuffed with rocks and disappointment. The second thing I felt was a rush of memories that weren't mine flooding into my five-year-old brain.
The name was the same: Alexander. No parents. Dumped on the steps of the "Whistler's Rest" orphanage in the dingy border town of Ashber as a baby. It wasn't a nice place. The matron, a perpetually sour woman named Helga, ran the place with a budget of two copper coins and a heart of pure, unrefined coal. According to the body's memories, which were mostly a collection of sad moments and cold meals, I wasn't exactly the favorite. The other kids saw my quietness as weirdness, and my weirdness as a reason to steal my dinner roll.
Alright, first things first. Sit up. This new body was weak, clumsy, and pathetically mortal. Perfect. Five years old. I was a toddler again. At least I could probably reach the bottom shelf now.
As soon as I managed to prop myself up against the rickety headboard, a translucent blue screen flickered into existence right in front of my face, so abruptly I nearly fell out of bed.
DING!
Welcome, Host Alexander, to the Random Gacha System!
To get you started on your journey, please accept this complimentary Starter Pack!
A gift box icon, glowing with a golden light, appeared in the center of the screen. With a mental command—because of course, this thing was thought-controlled—I selected it. The box vibrated, shot out a bunch of pixelated confetti, and opened.
[CONGRATULATIONS!
You have received:
100 Status Points
Template: Dragon God Orsted (0.2%)
Template: Yoriichi Tsugikuni (1%)]
Oh. Oh, wow. The system wasn't pulling any punches. Orsted, the Dragon God of Jobless Reincarnation, a being stuck in a centuries-long time loop who mastered every skill imaginable. And Yoriichi Tsugikuni, the absolute monster from Demon Slayer who was born with the cheat codes of his universe. And I had a 0.2% and 1% sliver of their power, respectively. This was the most beautiful and terrifying welcome gift in the history of multiverses.
"Okay, system," I whispered, my voice a child's squeak. "Show me the goods. Lay it all out. Don't be shy."
A cascade of new windows opened, each one more gloriously game-breaking than the last. With a grin that I'm sure looked maniacal on my tiny face, I started to read.
Template Integration Status:
Dragon God Orsted Template (0.2%): Grants a minuscule fraction of the 100th Dragon God's power. Source of the 'Curse of Fear' and 'Slowed Mana Regeneration' traits.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni Template (1%): Grants a tiny sliver of the legendary Demon Slayer's power. Source of the 'True Demon Slayer Mark' and 'Sword God Incarnate' traits.
So, the good and the bad came packaged together. Orsted's insane power also came with his curse, and his cripplingly slow mana regeneration. Made sense. No such thing as a free lunch, even for a reincarnated amnesiac in a five-year-old's body. Time to see how this all added up. I pulled up the main stat page.
STATUS SCREEN
Name: Alexander (LEX)
Race: Dragon-Human Deity Hybrid
Lifespan: 5 / 2,000
Level: 0
Class: None
MP: 10,000 / 10,000
HP: 10,000 / 10,000
Elemental Affinities: Wind, Fire
Trait(s): Curse of Fear, Slowed Mana Regeneration, Reincarnated, True Demon Slayer Mark, Sword God Incarnate
Core Stage: Black
Stats:
Perception: 70
Strength: 10
Constitution: 17
Agility: 13
Resistance: 7
Charisma: 17
Vitality: 16
Stamina: 22
Luck: 1000
{Average stat per normal adult in any category:10}
Status Points: 100
Skills: Basic Mana Manipulation Lv 1, Basic Mana Perception Lv 1, Basic Swordsmanship Lv 1, Basic Transparent World
Special Skill(s): Reincarnation Technique (From Orsted) (MAX)
{Inventory}
{Store: Locked - Requires Level 25 & a Class}
Ten thousand HP and MP? A Luck stat of one thousand? A Black core at level zero? I knew a Black core was the absolute starting point for a mage in this world, a core so impure it was practically useless. But with those MP reserves, the moment I purified this thing, I was going to be a walking magical nuke. And that lifespan… two thousand years? I was going to outlive the continents!
I couldn't help but let out a cackle that was way too deep for a kid in footie pajamas. The screen was a beacon of beautiful chaos, and I was its chosen gremlin.
Before I could get too lost in the absurdity of it all, I decided to do a deep dive into what these titles actually meant. I mentally tapped on the first trait, and the system dutifully provided its definition.
[Curse of Fear – Trait]
Originating from the Orsted Template. As a hybrid descendant of the Dragon Tribe, all living creatures—man, beast, or monster—are hard-coded at a genetic level to feel an instinctual and overwhelming fear and hatred toward you. In your case, as a hybrid, this effect is slightly dampened. Non-natives of this world, or those with sufficient willpower, can resist it. It's basically a really aggressive "stay away from me" aura.
I mentally tapped on the next problematic-sounding trait.
[Slowed Mana Regeneration – Trait]
Originating from the Orsted Template. A side-effect of the Dragon Tribe's Reincarnation Technique. Your mana reserves are colossal, but the rate at which they naturally replenish is crippled. While a normal mage might recharge in seconds, you might take months or years depending on the level of depletion. Get used to rationing your MP, buddy.
Right. So I was a magical supercar with a fuel tank the size of a continent, but a fuel pump that was eternally broken. Lesson one of my new life: don't waste mana. Every drop was a precious resource. I took a mental note and moved on to the cooler-sounding traits.
[True Demon Slayer Mark – Trait]
*Originating from the Yoriichi Tsugikuni Template. Unlike others who have this mark forcibly awakened in a life-or-death situation, you were born with it. It is permanently active. This mark drastically increases your physical capabilities—strength, speed, and reaction time—beyond what your core stage would normally allow. It also grants you immunity to the usual curse of dying at 25. A small, yet significant, bonus.*
A permanent, risk-free power-up? Don't mind if I do. This explained why my physical stats were… well, still kinda garbage but high for a Childs. They'd have been even more pathetic without it. I was starting from rock bottom, but at least I had a rocket booster strapped to my back. I quickly pulled up the next one, the one that was really piquing my interest.
[Sword God Incarnate – Trait]
Originating from the Yoriichi Tsugikuni Template. Your very soul remembers the feeling of the blade. You possess an instinctive and transcendent understanding of swordsmanship. Learning any sword technique becomes effortless. You don't just master styles; you absorb, perfect, and transcend them. You are the ultimate blade prodigy.
Okay, that was just straight-up awesome. No downsides. No caveats. Just pure, unadulterated talent with a sword. I could work with this. I could seriously work with this. Onto the skills. I mentally clicked the first one.
[Basic Mana Manipulation Lv 1]
A fundamental skill granted by the system. Allows the user to channel raw mana from their core/mana pool through their mana channels. At this level, it's shaky and inefficient, causing significant mana leakage and waste. Required for all forms of spellcasting and augmenting. Think of it like trying to water a plant with a firehose while standing on a trampoline.
[Basic Mana Perception Lv 1]
A fundamental skill granted by the system. Allows the user to sense ambient mana in the atmosphere and mana signatures within other living beings or objects. At this level, you can only detect large, unsubtle mana sources within a few meters. For reference, a campfire-sized mana beast would be a flicker at the edge of your perception.
[Basic Swordsmanship Lv 1]
A fundamental skill granted by the system. Instills the user with the knowledge of basic stances, cuts, and guards. At this level, you're about as deadly as a particularly determined toddler with a butter knife. But at least you'll hold the butter knife correctly.
And then, the last one. The one that made my new, tiny heart skip a beat.
[Basic Transparent World]
A unique visual skill originating from the Yoriichi Tsugikuni Template. An extrasensory form of perception that alters your vision, allowing you to see through the skin of living beings and perceive the flow of their blood, the contraction of their muscles, and the movement of their joints. At this basic level, you can use this to accurately predict an opponent's next move and find openings to strike. The world also appears to you in a form of slowed-down perception, drastically increasing your own reflexes. It's like having a permanent, built-in combat strategy guide.
This was the ability that made Yoriichi an absolute demon, and I had a basic version of it right now. I could already see the faint, pulsing glow of my own mana flowing through my arms. I looked toward the door. On the other side, I could sense a dim, sluggish mana signature—probably Matron Helga—and if I focused, I could almost see the faint, ghost-like image of her circulatory system. Creepy? Absolutely. Useful? Unquestionably.
Finally, I pulled up the Special Skill. It was the only one marked MAX.
[Reincarnation Technique (From Orsted)]
A divine-class technique created by the First Dragon God. This isn't a skill you activate; it's a fundamental alteration to your soul. It allows you to redo your life from a specific save point upon death, retaining all memories and accumulated knowledge. However, in this new world, its function has been adapted to also prevent any form of clairvoyance ,fate altering or divination magic from predicting your actions. You are a blind spot in the tapestry of fate. A very, very slow-to-recover blind spot{upon death all things on the status screen is saved).
A save point. A literal time loop. If I died, I'd just… respawn? That was the ultimate safety net, hidden away inside my most debilitating curse. The sheer, game-breaking potential of all these abilities was staggering. I was a tank with the potential to be a DPS god, all while having the world's worst aggro management system and a crippling mana addiction from day one.
I dismissed all the screens with a wave of my hand, which still looked ridiculously small and pudgy. I flopped back onto the lumpy mattress, the straw inside crunching in protest. The moonlight filtering through the small, grimy window cast long, dancing shadows across the worn wooden floorboards of the orphanage.
Right. Time for a plan. Step one: get the hell out of this orphanage and this crummy town. I was a walking fear-aura with a luck stat that was practically a cosmic joke. If I stayed here, I'd probably trip and accidentally discover a legendary treasure that would get me killed by the first bandit who saw me. The modified TBATE world was more dangerous than the original, meaning even the rats outside probably had class levels. I needed to get strong, and I needed to get smart.
How does a five-year-old safely leave town? Simple. He doesn't, unless he can make himself valuable enough to be taken by adventurers, or strong enough to just walk out into the beast-infested forest alone. And looking at my stats, option B was a great way to test that Reincarnation Technique before breakfast.
A slow grin spread across my face. I had a thousand points of Luck. I was born with a Demon Slayer Mark. I had the talent of a Sword God. I was a Dragon God's worst nightmare in a half-pint package. This wasn't a setback; it was the most insane start to any isekai adventure I'd ever read. And I'd read a lot.
"Alright, you cosmic, bored bastard," I whispered into the darkness of my room, my voice full of a confidence that no five-year-old should possess. "You wanted a show? Get your popcorn ready."
The first order of business was simple: tomorrow, I would find a stick. And I would become the most terrifying five-year-old with a stick this world, or any other, had ever seen.
The real adventure had just begun, and I had absolutely no idea what was coming next for my personal future. But I knew, with the unshakeable certainty of a true gacha addict, that the next pull was going to be legendary.