'Status.'
The word didn't pass his lips—just a thought.
A chime rang in his ears.
And the blue screen appeared again, clean and precise.
[ Status:
Name: Dave Miller
Age: 26
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Level: 1(0/100)
HP(Health Points): 100%
PS(Physical Stamina): 100%
MP(Mana Points): 98%
MS(Mental Stamina):92%
Stats: F rank
Strength: 6
Agility: 5
Endurance: 6
Intelligence: 5
Willpower: 4
Free points: 2
Skill Points: 2
Skills: Cooking Lvl.3, Cleaning Lvl.4, Designing Lvl.6, Driving Lvl.5....]
Dave looked at the status screen floating before him. It was the kind of interface he'd seen hundreds of times in web novels, manga, or anime. Clean layout. Standard RPG format. Name, age, gender, race, stats, and a list of skills.
There were even MP and MS bars—Mana Points and Mental Stamina.
The former screamed supernatural, the latter seemed biological. A stamina bar for the mind? That was new.
He scrolled through the stats, and even without a tutorial, he understood them well enough. Just like all the stories he'd devoured over the years, the categories were self-explanatory. Strength, Agility, Intelligence, Willpower... Nothing needed a guidebook.
He was, in a word, average.
No glaring weaknesses, no hidden advantages. Just a baseline human.
Except for one thing: his Designing skill was at Level 6—his highest.
Not a surprise.
Dave had worked in both CAD (Computer-Aided Design) and MAD (Manual-Aided Design). Cars, architecture, product models—he'd done it all. His Department Manager always said his creativity was his most valuable trait.
So yeah. That one made sense.
Two Free Points, two Skill Points, but he left them untouched for now. Best to figure out what kind of system this was before messing with numbers.
Then he noticed something else. His level.
Level 1.
(0 / 100 EXP).
When he focused on it, a tooltip-like prompt appeared:
To Level Up: Gain experience by crafting.
Crafting, not combat. Not quests. Not dungeon grinding. This wasn't about killing monsters for loot—it was about building things.
He smirked. "Figures."
With a mental command, he closed the status screen.
And then tried a word he'd read in far too many stories:
'System.'
A second chime echoed in his head, and a new screen appeared. A clean holographic menu floated into view, listing a series of options:
{ Crafting System }
[Status]
[Craft]
[Scan]
[Appraise]
[Dismantle]
[Canvas]
[Inventory]
The familiar [Status] tab was already known. So Dave moved on to the next: [Craft].
It opened—empty. A single crafting button was visible, but grayed out.
Nothing to craft.
"Figures," he muttered. "No blueprints."
He selected [Scan] next. The description was straightforward: scan objects to obtain complete blueprints. Scan a car, get every detail. Scan a building, get the structure. Scan a human… well, that raised a few questions he didn't want to think about yet.
Unfortunately, there were no scanned items yet.
He switched to [Appraise], glanced around, and pointed it at his car.
A soft shimmer passed through the screen. A new status panel popped up.
[ Status:
Name: Aurevia Z5
Type: Sedan (5-Seater)
Model Year: 2027
Fuel Type: Petrol
Condition: 97%
Mileage: 30,127 km
Fuel Level: 84%
Battery: 100%
Stats: E Rank
Speed: 55
Durability: 58
Efficiency: 58
Comfort: 59
Safety: 59
Features: Air Conditioning Lvl.5, Infotainment System Lvl.4, Lane Assist Lvl.3, Auto Braking Lvl.2, GPS Navigation Lvl.4, Reverse Camera Lvl.5....
Status Effects: None
Owner: Dave Miller ]
Dave blinked at the display. "...Okay, that's actually kinda cool."
Everything broken down by numbers. Specs, condition, even embedded systems. And the data was accurate. This wasn't guesswork—it was granular.
Moving on, he opened [Dismantle].
From the tooltip: Dismantle allowed him to break down objects stored in [Inventory] into raw parts or blueprint components. Not physical dismantling—system-level deconstruction.
He flicked over to [Inventory], and his jaw tightened in surprise.
Storage Space: Infinite
Timeflow: Frozen
That meant nothing degraded. Not food. Not batteries. Not even perishable materials.
"I've got a personal pocket dimension that stops time… Jesus."
Then came the final function:
[Canvas].
The moment he opened it, he could tell—this was the real heart of his system.
Here, every scanned or dismantled object was categorized and stored as modular components: engines, frames, circuits, even down to bolts and rivets. All saved into a sort of "dictionary."
Dave could mix and match parts by thinking them into being. Design from scratch, no physical tools needed. Just a thought. A concept. A blueprint shaped by imagination.
Once a blueprint was drafted in Canvas, the system's logic engine—probably linked to Scan—would simulate functionality, diagnose flaws, and suggest improvements. Even the craziest design could be evaluated in real time.
And then… if he had the parts, he could instantly craft it inside his inventory.
No welding. No assembly line. Just done.
Dave leaned back in the seat.
"…Okay. That's broken. That's stupidly broken."
A smile spread across his face.
This wasn't just some basic crafting system.
It was a fucking OP system—the kind he never even dared to imagine. Not in any of the hundreds of novels he'd devoured. Not in the endless theory threads or wish-fulfillment fanfics. This wasn't just overpowered—it was ridiculous.
He could scan anything. Appraise anything. Store anything in an infinite, timeless pocket space. Break things down to their smallest components, and then reconstruct them—or reimagine them—into something entirely new.
And it was all instant. No hammers, no screws, no time wasted waiting for glue to dry. Just blueprint + materials = done.
It wasn't crafting.
It was creation.
And the scariest part?
It was all real.