A classic, casual day like any other. Study, eat, sleep.
A peaceful day, stretching into another, a seamless tapestry of mundane boredom.
From a bench under an old oak, a pair of crimson-red eyes watched the campus with the focus of a predator, not a student. She looked at a particular tree, its bark scarred from years of careless bikes. She didn't just see a tree. She remembered it. Or more accurately, her body recalled the phantom pain of impact. This was where the "Goddess of Campus" had her first, pathetic, life or death struggle with a shrieking goblin.
The memory, sharp and unbidden, flashed: the smell of wet earth and copper, the burning scrape of bark against her spine, the goblin's hot, rancid breath. Hellish scenes from a decade-long nightmare began to unspool in her mind.
Then, it came. Not a sound, but a sensation a digital shiver that ran not down her spine, but through the very fabric of her being, as if reality itself was being overwritten. That wasn't a sense. It was Datafication.
-Starting again.
A colossal, intrusive thought bloomed in her mind, echoing in the silent chambers of her soul, identical to the first time.
[Congratulation!! Your world has been selected as Seed 8*******7. Stream for the gods.]
[You can earn gold from stories or direct patronage from gods. Gold can be used to buy skills, equipment, and traits. As a selected world, you are awarded with a starting class and talent. Please open your gift pack.]
[Monsters will begin spawning in 5 minutes. Good luck.]
She looked at the simple, yet overwhelming, system messages. A bitter taste coated her tongue. She recalled her first class and talent all too well.
[Talent: Goddess]
(You cannot engage in direct physical combat. You are a being of magic and influence.)
[Class: Magician]
(+50% magic damage.)
What a devastating blow? No. It was a death sentence. She remembered others getting versatile classes, hybrids. She was given a gilded cage. A porcelain doll in a world of claws and steel. She couldn't even throw a punch. Worse than a normal human with their desperate, flailing fists. She had been transformed into a prize pig awaiting slaughter before the "game" even began.
So how had she survived over ten years? Not by divine magic. By mundane cunning. She became good at cooking, at mending, at being useful. She had called a random, stronger player "husband," a temporary shield of convenience. He found out, saw her as a burden, and turned hunter. After all she wasn't that type of girl who can become a woman for herself. After that, she learned. She became a ghost in the system, a caveman in digital caves, surviving on scraps and silence.
-What a shame...
-Open gift pack.
[You have opened your gift pack and gained: Talent (Undetected): Wraith. Class (Undetected): A Little of Everything.]
[Talent: Wraith]
(If you are not the first attacker in an engagement, you cannot be targeted for damage. If you are attacked first, you gain a +50% damage boost for 60 seconds.)
[Class: A Little of Everything]
(You can wield any weapon at a professional proficiency level. You may evolve skills using Evolution Points.)
...
-I wasted a decade hiding just to stay alive. And you... give me this?
What was she feeling? A frigid fury, so cold it felt like clarity. She didn't know.
[Please select an alias:]
A silent thought become her thought and suddenly said it.
-Luna.
The name fell from her lips, cool and sharp as a blade that will seen by others. It felt right.
The first kill was a good thing for server-wide attention. She didn't walk she flowed towards the scarred tree, her movements suddenly predatory.
[Monsters will begin spawning.]
The instant the thought faded, she moved. Not towards a spawned goblin, but to a loose, heavy branch beneath the tree. Her hands, once soft, found the grip by muscle memory she shouldn't have. The first goblin materialized with a sickly pop of air.
[CRACK.]
The branch met its skull with a wet, final thud. It wasn't elegant. It was brutally efficient.
[You have made your first kill.]
[First Kill in the Server!]
[You gain 75 EXP.]
[You gain: Dagger (Bronze), 6 copper coin]
Bronze? Not Black Iron or even common Iron? In her last life, the hierarchy was clear: Iron (worst), Black Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum, Diamond, Epic, Mythic... Legend.
[You gain Skill: Looter (Iron).]
Looter. Again. The same worthless skill from before. A flat 5% increased loot chance. A consolation prize for the damned.
[You gain 10.5 Evolution Points.]
[Server-Wide Announcement! First Kill has been taken by 'Luna'! Congratulations! As a reward, she has been granted 5 Free Stat Points! The Status Screen is now unlocked for all players!]
Three thunderous thoughts echoed for everyone. A name was heard: Luna. Nothing more. A perfect start.
-Stats.
Her voice was a whisper of frost in the suddenly-charged air. After nine years of running, she had calcified. She felt the coldness in her veins. Was it good? For a survivor, mercy was the luxury that got you killed.
[Alias: Luna]
[Class: A Little of Everything]
[Talent: Wraith]
[Stats:]
[Strength: 5] (Human limit: 10)
[Constitution: 8](Human limit: 10)
[Mind: 20](Human limit: 10)
[Intelligence: 18](Human limit: 10)
[Charm: 10](Human limit: 10)
[Free Points: 5]
Without hesitation, she allocated all 5 points to Charm. A gamble.
[Your Charm has exceeded normal human limits!]
[You have gained Passive Skill: Charm (Iron). You may exert a subtle influence on humanoid races.]
A grim smile touched her lips. Worth it. Around her, the air began to warp and pop again. More goblins.
She opened her class panel.
[A Little of Everything]
[Evolution Points: 10.5]
First, Looter. She fed points into it.
[Looter (Iron) → Looter (Black Iron). Loot chance increased to 10%.]
[Evolution Points used: 5.5]
Now, the new toy. She focused on the Charm skill.
[Charm (Iron) → Charm Mist (Black Iron). Your influence becomes an active, targeted aura. You may attempt to charm specific targets.]
[Evolution Points used: 5.0]
Hmm. Okay. I need to kill more. Test this.
[You have equipped: Dagger (Bronze).]
-Ha?
A faint, almost nostalgic surprise. After ten years, manipulating her inventory was second nature, a thought away. The system message was for the newbies, the ones fumbling with menus. It was a reminder of how far she'd fallen, and how far she'd come.
She looked at the growing circle of green, snarling faces
Weak Goblin (Lv. 1)
(Grade: Iron)
A mocking, cold smile appeared on her soft, delicate lips, a stark contrast to the violence in her eyes.
-What a shame
she said aloud, her voice carrying not just for the goblins, but for any god who might be listening.
-To have to dirty my hands with lowly beasts like you.
She wasn't talking to herself. This was a performance. Server-first meant attention. Attention from viewers, from Gods... from gods. And their gold was the fastest track to power. A little dramatic monologue was a small price. Was it pathetic? Perhaps. But survival had stripped her of such pride long ago.
[You have been awarded 1000 Gold Coins by a God (Hidden).]
What. So fast? The world seemed to tilt on its axis. A thousand gold. That was a fortune. In her past life, farming that at high levels would have taken a hundred hours of grinding.
The calculation in her eyes sharpened. She became a blur of calculated motion. The bronze dagger felt alien yet familiar. She didn't fight; she processed. One goblin after another fell, not to skill, but to ruthless efficiency, each death a transaction for more Evolution Points.
[You have slain a Weak Goblin. Gained 9.9 Evolution Points.]
[You have slain a Weak Goblin. Gained 8.8 Evolution Points.]
She watched the points tick up, but a grimace twisted her features. The yield was dropping. It felt like watching money evaporate. Unacceptable.
As more goblins converged, driven by some primitive pack instinct, she didn't stand her ground. She broke line of sight. Her eyes scanned, landing on the nearest campus building.
She sprinted, not with panic, but with purpose, slipping through the closing green ranks and shoving through the heavy double doors.
inside, the sterile silence of academia was shattered. A new, overwhelming scent assaulted her delicate nose: the thick, coppery, and stomach turning smell of fresh blood.
-Blood...
she whispered, the word hanging in the stagnant air.
She stepped slowly into the lobby, her dagger held low and ready.