When Nick woke again, a large shadow hovered over him.
A bearded, bear-like man loomed above the crib, staring down at him with an expression carved from stone. No greeting. No warmth. Just a silent, unreadable gaze that felt almost like resentment.
Before Nick could piece that together, a familiar voice called from outside the room.
"George, are you staring at Nick again? You do that every day without saying a word!"
So this is my father… George, Nick realized.He studied the man's heavy features. The sharp eyes. The stiff posture.
Does he hate me? Well… whatever. I never had a real father in my past life anyway.
George suddenly scooped him up with surprising gentleness. Still silent. Still staring. Then he turned and walked toward the kitchen area where Nick's mother—Melinda—was preparing something.
"Melinda," George said in a low, rumbling voice, "I hunted some jackalopes in the Wasted Forest. They're in my knapsack. I brought herbs too."
Nick blinked.
So my parents are George and Melinda. Got it.
He was about to relax when Melinda opened the knapsack—and Nick froze in shock.
Inside were animals he recognized from old internet folklore.
Red-furred rabbits… the size of adult dogs… each with a pair of sharp, deer-like horns.
Jackalopes.Myths from North American folklore. Real. In front of him.
Before he could process that, Melinda bent down, made a gesture with her hand—shaping her fingers like a tiny pistol—and a spark of light flickered at her fingertips. A controlled flame burst out, lighting the dry wood beneath their battered cooking pan.
Magic.
Actual magic.
Holy—okay, okay, this is real. This world has magic. I need to try something.He raised his tiny fist like an idiot, hoping something would happen.
"SYSTEM WINDOW," he whispered in his baby voice—though what actually came out was a soft gurgle.
Melinda chuckled."Sweetie, why are you reaching for the ceiling? You're such a cutie."
But it worked.
A faint blue hologram flickered into existence. Only Nick could see it—hovering in front of George's chest as if projected from thin air.
STATUS WINDOW
Nick █████Age: 1 monthClass: NoneSkills: None
Stats:AGI – 0.1STR – 0.2DEX – 0.1LUK – 5VIG – 2ARC – 6STA – 0.3
CLICK TO DO THE FIRST QUEST
Nick stared at the pathetic numbers and wanted to scream.
Where are my cheat stats? My overpowered abilities? My destined hero class?!First quest?! For a one-month-old baby?
Still, he tapped the glowing button.
A new window opened.
QUEST
CONDITION:Open and close both hands 100 times within 5 hours.
PENALTY:Lose 2 points in all stats.
REWARD:Acquire your class.NOTE: Class cannot be changed or altered for life.
He froze.Then grinned.
This is literally an ARPG mechanic. Okay. I can work with this.
He immediately began opening and closing his fists. It looked easy on paper—but for an infant body? Torture. By the 56th repetition his arms were throbbing, his tiny hands numb.
His parents noticed.
"Is he sick?" Melinda asked, worried."He keeps clenching his hands…"
Unable to alarm them, Nick stopped and waited.Hours passed. Night fell. His parents eventually slept in the far corner of the room.
Then—quietly—he resumed.
One tiny fist clench at a time.One silent struggle.
And at last—
Quest Complete.
A new window opened.
QUEST COMPLETION
REWARD:Pick your class.
(CLICK HERE FOR MAJOR CLASSES)(CLICK HERE FOR MINOR CLASSES)
Nick was panting from the exertion—ridiculous, considering he used to grind games for 20 hours straight—but excitement drowned out his exhaustion.
"Major classes first. Obviously," he mumbled in a baby squeak.
He tapped the option.
MAJOR CLASSES Pyromancy Cryomancy Aeromancy Geomancy Thaumaturgy Doom Bringer Spirit Bringer Alchemy / Apothecary Beast Master Ki-Caster Soul Blade Shadowmere
Interesting… a bit common, but workable.He tapped through the descriptions one by one, absorbing everything.
Fire magic. Ice magic. Wind. Earth. Holy miracles. Dark arts. Spirits. Alchemy. Beasts. Ki. Psychic blades. Assassination.
All solid choices.
Nick's eyes locked onto one option: Doom Bringer.
Dark arts. Probably necromancy. Could summon armies of the dead. Definitely cool. Let's check minor cla—
He tapped Minor Classes.
MINOR CLASSES
CookingHome MaintenanceFinancial ManagementChild & Elder CareTime ManagementWaste ManagementProblem SolverCommunicatorCollaboratorActive ListeningRunnerSeamsterModifier
He frowned.
These are just normal human skills… except for…
One entry caught his eye.
Modifier – Uses a raw transparent teardrop-shaped magicule (MAXIMUM: 1)
A single magic droplet. Max of one.
"That's useless," he muttered. "Not worth anything. I'd rather take cooking."
He laughed and tapped back to the major classes.
Doom Bringer, come to papa.
But the moment he tapped—
The status window glitched.The screen flickered red.A huge question mark appeared.
Then everything snapped into a new page.
Picked: MODIFIER CLASS
Maximum Count: 1Size: 50 microliters
Nick's soul shattered.
"What—NO. NO NO NO. THIS IS A SCAM! A LIFE-LONG SCAM!"
His fury burst out as an infant's crying wail.
His parents jolted awake and rushed to his crib, worried sick, unaware that their newborn son had just been cursed with the most confusing, underwhelming class imaginable.
And for the first time since his reincarnation…
Nick felt despair.