Fritz Everhart died exactly the way he lived: pathetically.
The twenty-eight-year-old NEET was sprawled in his gaming chair, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and takeout containers that had been growing mold for weeks. His apartment reeked of failure and instant ramen, though he'd long since stopped noticing either smell.
"Come on, just one more episode," he mumbled to himself, clicking play on "Sword Saint's Redemption" for what had to be the twentieth time. The familiar opening theme played as he slurped down another mouthful of poorly cooked noodles.
That's when it happened.
A chunk of ramen got lodged in his throat. Fritz panicked, clawing at his neck as he tried to dislodge it. His chair spun wildly as he thrashed, knocking over cans and boxes. The fluorescent light above flickered mockingly, casting harsh shadows across the disaster zone he called home.
His vision blurred. His lungs burned. And through it all, his anime waifu stared at him from the computer screen with what looked suspiciously like disappointment.
How fitting.
Fritz's world went black.
The last coherent thought he had was that at least he'd finished the series.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE]
[WELCOME]
[SKILL POINT ACQUISITION SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
Fritz's eyes snapped open to birdsong. Real birdsong, not the urban cacophony of car horns and sirens he was used to. These sounds were melodic, almost musical.
"He's awake! Thank the gods, our little Fritz is finally awake!"
A woman's voice, warm and relieved, spoke in what should have been a foreign language. Yet somehow, Fritz understood every word perfectly. He tried to sit up, but his body felt wrong. Small. Weak.
"Easy now, sweetheart. You've been unconscious for three days with that fever."
Fritz blinked hard, trying to focus. A woman with kind amber eyes and auburn hair was leaning over him, wearing what looked like a medieval dress. Behind her stood a tall man with graying temples and a beard, both of them looking at him with obvious relief and love.
Wait. Love?
These people were looking at him like he was family. Like he was their child.
Fragments of memories that weren't his own began surfacing. A fever. Collapsing during sword practice. Worried faces hovering over him in this very bed.
[DING! +1 Skill Point acquired]*L
A translucent blue window appeared in the corner of his vision, startling him so badly he nearly jumped out of the bed.
What the hell was that?
[Current Balance: 1 SP]
[Points generate every 1 second]
[Next point in: 0.7 seconds]
Fritz stared at the floating text, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. Blue screens. Skill points. A fantasy world with people who treated him like their son.
Had he been reincarnated? Was this actually happening?
"Fritz? Can you hear me, sweetheart?" the woman asked, her voice thick with concern.
He tried to speak but only managed a weak croak. His throat felt raw and scratchy.
"Don't try to talk yet," the man said gently. "You're still recovering. The healers said your mana channels were damaged by the fever. They..." He paused, exchanging a worried look with the woman. "They said you might never be able to use magic properly."
The way they said it, with such barely contained grief, told Fritz everything he needed to know about this world. Magic was important here. Really important. And apparently, this body he'd inherited had gotten dealt a bad hand.
[DING! +1 Skill Point acquired]
[Current Balance: 2 SP]
Fritz flinched again as another notification appeared. The blue windows were definitely real, and they seemed to be connected to him somehow. But what did they mean? And why could he see them when his new parents clearly couldn't?
"The court mages confirmed it," the man continued, his jaw tight with frustration. "Your mana pathways are twisted. Malformed. Even basic spells will be beyond your reach."
Fritz felt a strange mix of disappointment and relief. Disappointment because magic sounded amazing, and relief because it meant expectations would be low. If everyone thought he was magically defective, maybe no one would pay too much attention to whatever this skill point system was doing.
[DING! +1 Skill Point acquired]
[Current Balance: 3 SP]
"I'm..." Fritz managed to whisper, his voice barely audible. "I'm okay..."
The woman's face lit up with relief. "Oh, thank Celeste! The goddess has blessed us with your recovery."
Goddess Celeste. So there were gods in this world too. Fritz filed that information away for later.
"Rest now," the man said, though worry still creased his features. "We'll talk more when you're feeling stronger."
After they left, Fritz lay in the ornate bed, staring at the ceiling. Rich tapestries covered the walls, depicting scenes of knights battling dragons and mages wielding spectacular magic. Everything about this room screamed nobility and wealth.
[DING! +1 Skill Point acquired]
[Current Balance: 4 SP]
Fritz watched the counter tick upward, his mind racing. If he was gaining one skill point every second, that meant he'd get 86,400 points every day. Just from existing.
While everyone else in this world apparently had to train for years to learn magic.
The implications were staggering, but Fritz was too overwhelmed to fully process them yet. He'd died. He'd been reborn. He had some kind of cheat system. And his new family thought he was magically crippled.
It was too much. His head was spinning, and exhaustion was creeping in despite having just woken up.
[DING! +1 Skill Point acquired]
[Current Balance: 5 SP]
Fritz closed his eyes, listening to the gentle tick of accumulating points. Whatever this system was, whatever this world held for him, he'd figure it out later.
For now, he just needed to survive being twelve years old again.
And maybe, just maybe, this second chance at life wouldn't end with him choking on instant noodles.