The world spat me out.
Literally spat me out.
One second I was shaking my fist at God in his heavenly tracksuit and golden sneakers, and the next—thwump—my face was buried in dirt and leaves. I gagged, coughed, and rolled over just in time to see a squirrel chitter angrily at me before darting up a tree. Great. First impressions of the "new world": I was apparently nature's punching bag.
"...Okay," I muttered, spitting out a twig. "Step one. Figure out magic. Step two. Don't die. Step three…" My voice cracked. "…Prom."
That word alone gave me the strength to stagger upright. The suit I'd worn for the big night—the one Mom had begged me not to spill soda on—was now smeared with mud and pine needles. My date was probably at home right now, curling her hair, wondering if Shin Sousei was going to pick her up in a rented limo. Instead, I was knee-deep in moss and panic.
"Alright, magic," I said, pointing dramatically at a tree. "Fireball."
Nothing.
"…Kamehameha?"
Also nothing.
"…Expelliarmus?"
The tree stood there, mocking me with its silence.
I groaned. "So what, I'm supposed to figure this out raw? What am I, some fantasy Minecraft speedrunner?"
That's when the growl came.
Low. Guttural. From behind.
I turned slowly. Yellow eyes blinked at me through the underbrush. A wolf, massive and lean, muscles rippling under its silver fur. Its fangs gleamed like knives.
"Nice doggy," I said, raising my hands. "Sit. Stay. Uh… please don't rip my jugular out?"
It stepped forward, lips curling.
I bolted.
Branches whipped my face as I sprinted through the forest. My lungs burned, my polished shoes sank in mud, and every crack of twigs behind me screamed, you're dinner. I didn't even know where I was running. Just away. Away from wolves. Away from death.
I burst into a clearing—and immediately stopped.
Because there was another wolf.
"Are you kidding me?!" I shrieked.
The first wolf lunged, forcing me to dive sideways, rolling through wet grass. My suit was ruined beyond repair. Blood roared in my ears. Think, Shin. Think. What would God do?
Probably floss. That smug bastard.
Before the wolf could pounce again, a voice cut through the chaos.
"HEY! Down here!"
I blinked. At the edge of the clearing, standing awkwardly with a long staff, was a kid. About my age, maybe a year older. Messy black hair. Round glasses that glinted in the sunlight. His robes looked stitched by hand, like he'd walked out of some medieval textbook.
The kid sighed. "Figures. You're another one of them, huh?"
"Another what?!" I shouted, scrambling to my feet as the wolves circled.
"Otherworlders." He spun his staff in one hand. "Get down."
I didn't argue. I hit the dirt just as a surge of light blasted from his staff. It was like a shotgun of pure sunlight—slamming into the wolves and sending them yelping into the forest. The clearing went quiet except for my frantic gasps.
Slowly, I looked up. The boy adjusted his glasses.
"Yep," he said flatly. "You're definitely from my world. Only idiots from Japan wear tuxedos into a death forest."
For a long moment, I just lay there, sucking in air. Then, groaning, I staggered upright and dusted off my ruined jacket. "Okay, first off—thanks for saving my life. Second—wait. Did you just say you're from my world?"
The boy nodded. "Sixteen years ago. I was reborn here."
"Sixteen—wait, reborn?"
"Reincarnated," he corrected. "Like those isekai light novels. Truck, bus, freak accident—you know the drill. Woke up as a baby. Grew up here." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Name's Newton. Newton Kisaragi. Call me Newt."
My jaw dropped. "Newton?! Like… Isaac Newton?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I get that joke a lot. No, I don't do gravity magic. At least not yet."
Something about the deadpan way he said it nearly broke my brain.
Newton pointed his staff at me. "And you—you're the new recruit, aren't you?"
"…Recruit?"
"The Seven Celestial Treasures." His eyes glinted. "Don't tell me the old man didn't give you the mission."
My stomach sank. "Wait—you too? You got dragged into this artifact-destruction nonsense?"
"Dragged? More like chained," he muttered. "Promised me a second chance at life if I succeed. Said I'd get to 'rewrite my fate.'"
I froze. That was almost word-for-word what God had told me.
Newton must've seen the realization dawn on my face, because his lips curled into a humorless smile. "Looks like we're stuck on the same path, tuxedo boy. Guess that makes us partners.
"Partners?" I said, still brushing leaves out of my hair. "Hold up, I barely know you. For all I know, you're secretly a wolf wearing glasses."
Newton sighed. "If I were a wolf, you'd already be dead."
"Fair point," I muttered.
He turned, staff in hand, and began walking into the trees. "Come on. Standing around in the open is asking to get eaten."
"…Where are we going?"
"My place. Follow me."
I hesitated. Every anime instinct screamed don't follow the suspicious guy into the woods. But given the alternative was being dog food, I didn't have many options. So I jogged after him.
Newton's "place" turned out to be… well, actually kind of impressive. A log cabin tucked between towering oaks, smoke curling from a chimney, with a neat little garden out front. It looked like something out of a cozy farming sim.
"Welcome to Casa Newton," he said, pushing open the door.
The inside was less cozy cottage and more mad scientist's workshop. Tables were covered in metal scraps, cogs, pipes, and weird glowing crystals. Half-built contraptions littered the corners. There was even what looked like a broken-down bicycle, except it had a mana crystal embedded in the frame.
I blinked. "Uh… did I accidentally follow Tony Stark into Narnia?"
Newton smirked. "Close. More like… Edison with a magic degree."
He tossed his staff aside and collapsed into a chair, gesturing for me to sit. "So. You're wondering how a perfectly average kid from Japan ended up here sixteen years ago, right?"
"…Well yeah," I admitted.
"Truck."
"…Truck?"
"Truck-kun." He said it so casually, like he was ordering takeout. "I was walking home from cram school. Next thing I know, headlights. Boom. Dead."
I stared. "…That's the most cliché thing I've ever heard."
He shrugged. "Cliché, but effective. I woke up here as a baby. Grew up learning the language, the culture, the magic system. And… I found out something interesting."
He leaned forward, adjusting his glasses so they gleamed ominously. "There's a prestigious magical academy in the capital. Rumor has it… one of the Seven Celestial Treasures is hidden there."
My jaw dropped. "Wait, seriously? Already? Don't those things usually get revealed, like, ten arcs later?!"
Newton chuckled. "Guess we're speedrunning destiny. But that's why I've been preparing. Studying magic. Building."
I gestured vaguely to the piles of junk. "Building what, exactly? Birdhouses?"
That earned me a smirk. "Not exactly. You see… I have a unique skill."
"Oh boy. Here we go."
"It's called Machine Maker." He tapped his chest. "As long as I have the materials, I can create functional machines. The tradeoff is that my actual magic is garbage. I can barely cast beginner spells, and the only real attack I have is a mana beam."
I crossed my arms. "…So basically you traded fireballs and lightning bolts for being a walking Home Depot."
Newton raised a brow. "Says the guy who can't even use magic yet."
"…Touché."
"Here," he said, walking over to a workbench. He picked up something long, metallic, and suspiciously gun-shaped. My eyes widened.
"No way. Is that—"
"A gun." He spun the revolver casually. "Well, technically, a hybrid mana-firearm I designed. Uses gears to reload and fires bullets infused with mana. But watch this."
He held it up, and his eyes glowed faintly. A pulse of light rippled through the weapon. In an instant, it warped—gears twisting, metal shifting—until it was a strange, janky-looking contraption strapped to his wrist. Pipes hissed. Cogs clicked. It looked like a steampunk watch that had lost a fight with a toolbox.
I gawked. "Okay, that's actually… kind of sick."
Newton smirked. "Not useless after all, is it?"
I tried to play it cool, but my inner nerd was screaming. "Alright, fine. You win. Show-off. But what about me? Do I get a unique skill, or did God just throw me in here naked?"
Newton chuckled. "Good question. Here." He tapped the air, and a faint blue screen appeared in front of him. Lines of text hovered like a video game HUD. "This is a status window. Everyone in this world has one. Try focusing and saying 'Status.'"
"…That easy?"
"Yup."
I squinted at the air. "Alright. Status!"
For a second, nothing. Then—ding! A glowing screen popped into view.
[Shinsou Sousei]Level: 1HP: 12Strength: 3Agility: 4Defense: 2Mana: 0.5Unique Skill: ???
I blinked. Read it again. Then rubbed my eyes and read it again.
"…Zero point five?!"
Newton peeked over my shoulder and immediately choked on his tea. "Hah—pfft! Oh my god, you're weaker than a toddler!"
"Shut up!" I flailed. "Who even gives decimals in a stat?! That's just insulting!"
"Your mana pool is so low, you could probably power a lightbulb for, like, five minutes."
I buried my face in my hands. "God really looked at me and said, 'send him in on hard mode.'"
Newton wiped his glasses, still chuckling. "Well… look at the bright side. At least you do have a unique skill slot. It's just… locked, apparently."
"Great. Mystery skill. Could be awesome, could be literally 'Make Toast Faster.'"
"Hey, toast is useful."
We both laughed, though mine was more hollow despair than humor.
After a moment, Newton leaned forward. "Listen. If we're both after the Seven Celestial Treasures, then we need to get stronger. A lot stronger. The academy is our best shot. They'll teach you magic, and it's the only place I can refine my skill without raising suspicion. And if the rumor's true… we'll find our first artifact there."
I stared at him. His eyes behind the glasses weren't just serious—they were burning. This guy wasn't joking around. He'd been preparing for this his whole life.
Meanwhile, I'd been preparing for prom.
I sighed. "…Alright, Newt. You've got the brains. I've got… uh… enthusiasm? Together we'll totally not die."
Newton smirked and held out a hand. "Partners?"
I looked at it for a moment, then grinned and shook it. "Partners."
"…But you're still a weakling."
"Shut up.
The next morning, Newton shoved a staff into my hands and dragged me outside into the clearing near his cabin.
"Alright, Shin," he said, adjusting his glasses like he was about to lecture at a university. "We've got six months until the academy entrance exam. That means six months to turn you from 'walking promposal' into someone who won't die tripping over his own shoes."
I gripped the staff nervously. "Correction: tuxedo promposal. Premium package."
"Premium garbage," Newton muttered. "Now focus. Lesson one: basic magic. Low-ranking spells are your bread and butter until your body adjusts to mana circulation. So we'll start with the classics—levitation, barrier, and mana beam."
He tapped his staff on the ground. A rock nearby glowed faintly and floated into the air like it was tied to invisible strings. Newton kept it hovering for a few seconds before setting it back down gently.
"Levitation spell. Simple. Utility-focused. Used for moving objects, disarming enemies, or carrying groceries if you're lazy. Try it."
I gulped and copied his stance. Staff pointed at a pebble. Focus. Mana. Power."Levitate!"
The pebble twitched. Wobbled. And then… flopped over like a tired potato.
Newton pinched the bridge of his nose. "Incredible. You killed a rock."
"Hey, it moved! That's progress!"
"Barely."
I tried again. Sweat dripped down my neck. My mana stat felt like a dying phone battery—every time I reached for it, my body screamed, low power mode engaged. The pebble wobbled again, then flipped me the metaphysical bird by staying glued to the ground.
"…Maybe I should start with a feather," I wheezed.
Newton sighed. "Alright. Next spell—Barrier."
He raised his staff. A translucent dome shimmered around him, glowing faintly blue before vanishing. "It's a basic defense spell. Blocks weak attacks, buys you time to run. You'll be using this one a lot, considering your pathetic defense stat."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I grumbled, raising my staff. "Barrier!"
…A faint puff of light appeared at the tip of my staff. Then fizzled out.
Newton clapped slowly. "Congratulations. You summoned… a firefly."
"Shut up."
"Alright. Last spell for today—the mana beam." He held his staff out. A surge of light gathered at the tip, condensing into a blinding ray that shot forward, carving a smoking line through the dirt.
My jaw dropped. "Dude, that's like a Kamehameha with extra steps!"
"More like a flashlight with attitude," he corrected. "The catch is—you can only use it once per day, until your body adjusts. That's cause and effect."
"Cause and effect?"
Newton nodded. "This world has natural balancing rules built into the magic system. Think of it like the universe's way of nerfing overpowered players. For example: someone with low mana usually regenerates mana much faster than someone with a huge pool. Or, if a spell can only be cast once, its power scales up depending on the situation."
I blinked. "…So basically, if I'm weak, I get pity buffs?"
"Exactly."
"That's… both humiliating and reassuring."
"Try the mana beam."
I swallowed hard, aimed the staff at a tree, and concentrated with everything I had. My body shivered as something inside me—thin, fragile, but there—stirred. The staff vibrated. A glow flickered at the tip.
"Yes! Yes, it's working!" I shouted.
Then it fired.
A pitiful spark sputtered out like a dying lighter, fizzled mid-air, and smacked into the ground with the force of a potato hitting carpet.
Silence.
Newton's shoulders trembled. His lips twitched.
"…Don't you dare laugh," I warned.
He exploded. "Pfft—BAHAHAHAHA! You—your mana beam couldn't even scare a squirrel!"
"Shut up! It was my first try!"
"I've seen toddlers with stronger beams!"
"I hate this world already."
We kept at it all day. Newton coached, I failed. He corrected my grip, I still failed. He explained mana circulation using diagrams, I failed harder. By sunset, my arms ached, my suit was soaked with sweat, and the pebble I'd been "levitating" had managed to scoot about three inches across the dirt.
But.
Something about Newton's explanations stuck with me. Cause and effect. Low mana → faster regen. One-shot spells → scaled-up power. Even though I was trash now… the system wasn't entirely against me.
Maybe God wasn't trolling me completely.
Or maybe He was, and He was just waiting to laugh when I blew myself up with a firefly.
Newton handed me a canteen of water. "Not bad for day one. Six months of this, and you might actually survive."
I groaned, flopping onto the grass. "If I live that long."
Newton chuckled. "Relax. You've got me coaching you. And with both of us aiming for the academy… who knows? Maybe your hidden skill will awaken when you need it most."
I closed my eyes, the stars faintly twinkling above us. Prom felt like another lifetime away. But the thought of beating God at His own game—of proving I wasn't just some cosmic joke—kept a fire lit in my chest.
"Fine," I muttered. "Six months. I'll train. I'll sweat. I'll suffer. And then…" I opened one eye and smirked. "…we're getting into that academy, artifact or bust."
Newton grinned. "That's the spirit, Shin.