'Tch… what was he even doing?'
'To give up his life like this…'
The thought echoed faintly in the boy's mind, carrying a trace of disbelief that hadn't fully faded yet.
The room was quiet—oppressively so.
A small desk stood near the corner, illuminated by a single dim lamp whose yellowish glow barely pushed back the shadows clinging to the walls. The furniture was plain to the point of bleakness, as if whoever had lived here before had long stopped caring about comfort. By the open window, a boy in his mid-teens sat silently, his gaze fixed on the city outside.
Neon lights and floating advertisements painted the nightscape in layers of color. Distant sirens and the low hum of generators blended into a strange, mechanical lullaby. This was a world constantly on edge—a world shaped by apocalypse, monsters, and power.
And now, it was his world.
The boy exhaled slowly.
His name—his new name—was Lin Kai.
Inside his mind, emotions clashed like mismatched gears. Regret lingered, but it wasn't truly his own. It belonged to the original owner of this body—the boy who had once sat here with shaking hands and a bottle of poison resting on this same desk.
Kai could feel the remnants of that despair, thin and brittle, like ash that hadn't fully scattered yet.
The pressure of expectations.
The ridicule.
The unbearable weight of being labeled a failure.
All of it pressed against his thoughts in dull echoes.
"…What a waste," Kai muttered softly.
He didn't feel sorrow for the boy's death—at least, not the kind one might expect. Instead, there was a strange hollowness, mixed with mild irritation. The original Lin Kai had been handed something extraordinary yet had thrown it away after a single failure.
At the same time, a different sensation surfaced—relief.
Real relief.
Maybe it was because his soul no longer belonged to Earth. Or maybe it was because he didn't have to wake up tomorrow to the suffocating grind of office work, endless deadlines, and managers who smiled while draining you dry.
Working day and night, repeating the same meaningless routine... He had been exhausted in his previous life.
So this abrupt change?
This violent shift in fate?
He welcomed it.
Standing up from the chair, Kai stretched his body slightly. It felt unfamiliar—lighter, younger, but not weak. More importantly, when he focused his thoughts, something responded.
Just as he expected.
A translucent blue window flickered into existence before him, shimmering softly like a hologram suspended in air.
Name: Lin Kai
Profession: Card Maker (Lv. 1)
Status:
Strength: 1 [+1]
Vitality: 2 [+1]
Agility: 1 [+1]
Spirit: 1 [+5]
Intelligence: 1 [+5]
MP: 30 / 30
HP: 30 / 30
Card Slots:
[Low Undead (F-grade) Lv. 1]
[Blank]
[2]
Skill:
Card Enhancement (Passive)
Kai's eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned the panel.
"So that's how it is…"
The stat bonuses immediately stood out. Spirit and intelligence were abnormally high compared to the rest—clear proof of the S+ tier talent associated with the Card Maker profession. This wasn't a combat class like Warrior or Gunner, nor a direct damage dealer like Magician.
This was a conceptual profession.
One that relied on cognition, understanding, and imagination.
And yet…
His gaze drifted to the first card slotted.
Low Undead (F-grade).
Even Kai couldn't help but click his tongue.
"Tch… what an absolute mess."
He could already see the entire process in his mind, as if watching a poorly written script unfold.
The moment the original Lin Kai awakened to his profession and discovered its S+ grade talent ranking—the highest possible—he must have been ecstatic. Anyone would be. In a world where talent dictated status, survival, and power, this was nothing short of a miracle.
So he rushed home.
Shut himself in.
And tried to create a card.
The problem wasn't ambition.
It was ignorance.
The story he had imagined was shallow—an undead protagonist born from vague assumptions, lacking causality, depth, or coherence. There was no explanation of the world's laws, no structured setting, no rational progression of power. Just fragments stitched together by wishful thinking.
Card Maker wasn't a profession that rewarded half-baked fantasies. It demanded deduction from world settings, logical consistency, and, above all, a vivid imagination grounded in rules. Every card was evaluated based on how believable it was within its own reality.
And the result? An F-rank card—the lowest grade possible.
An S+ talent producing an F-grade creation.
Unheard of.
Unforgivable. The news spread fast. At school, whispers turned into laughter. Laughter turned into mockery. Mockery turned into open ridicule. The prodigy became a joke.
And that fragile teenage mind… simply shattered. "So you chose poison," Kai said quietly, his fingers brushing the desk. "Pathetic."
Not cruel—just factual.
Thanks to that choice, Kai now occupied this body. The poison had already been neutralized during the soul transfer, leaving no lasting damage behind. In a twisted way, it was the cleanest possible handover.
Kai let out a slow breath.
"At least you didn't completely waste it." Because now, the profession belonged to him. As his thoughts settled, he noticed a faint change in the light outside. The deep blues of night were beginning to fade, replaced by pale streaks of dawn creeping over the horizon.
Morning was coming. "Hm… breakfast first," Kai decided.
After that, he had experiments to run.
Anime.
Manga.
Fictional worlds with fully realized power systems, detailed lore, and decades of accumulated imagination. If the Card Maker profession truly functioned the way he suspected… Then this world had no idea what was about to hit it.
Kai's lips curled into a faint smile, sharp and confident. "Let's see," he murmured, eyes glinting with anticipation. "Whether this world… can handle my imagination."
It was still early in the morning.
Too early for most people.
But Kai knew better. Even at this hour—5 a.m. sharp—his elder sister would already be awake.
Anesia Clayford.
Her profession was Magic Enchanter, a support-oriented class known for reinforcing weapons, armor, and tools through structured spell formulas. In theory, it was a backline profession, one that focused on preparation rather than direct combat.
In practice? Anesia was anything but fragile.
She used enchantments to enhance herself, reinforcing her weapons, body, and reaction speed mid-combat. Shooting, close-quarters fighting, physical conditioning—she trained relentlessly in all of it. Enchantment wasn't her crutch. It was her multiplier.
Kai clicked his tongue quietly.
The old me really should've learned something from her.
But he hadn't. The relationship between the original Lin Kai and his family had always been… distant. Not openly hostile. Not cold enough to be called hatred. Just an invisible wall that never came down.
After all, his father had married into this family after Kai's biological mother passed away. That subtle gap—between blood and circumstance—had lodged itself deep in the boy's heart. Instead of opening up, he closed himself off. He treated Anesia and his stepmother politely, respectfully… but never warmly.
Family on the surface. Strangers underneath. Kai understood that now. And maybe… regretted it a little. Pushing those thoughts aside, he walked out into the small open space near the living room. As expected, Anesia was already there.
She sat on a woven mat, legs folded neatly as she stretched with practiced precision. Her brown hair was tied back, revealing a clean, elegant profile. Green eyes—sharp yet calm—focused forward as she regulated her breathing.
Her skin was fair and healthy; her posture, flawless. There was no excess tension in her movements, only quiet discipline honed over years.
Beautiful.
Kai paused for half a second longer than necessary.
Wow…
Even by Earth's standards, she would have turned heads anywhere.
She probably could've started a war or two back then, he thought inwardly, amused.
As if sensing his presence, Anesia blinked and turned her head. Her eyes met his. A small, warm smile appeared on her lips, followed by a hint of surprise. "Good morning, Kai."
"Morning," he replied, scratching his cheek slightly.
The exchange felt oddly normal.
Too normal.
He moved toward the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a carton of juice. Then, after a brief pause, he glanced back at her. "Do you want some too?"
Drinking alone would feel awkward. Even he knew that. Anesia rose smoothly to her feet and nodded. "I'll take one. I was going to start cooking in a bit anyway."
Her tone softened. "You didn't eat much last night."
Kai froze for a fraction of a second. "…Thanks," he said quickly. "I'm really starving this morning. And—uh—sorry about dinner. I was… thinking about a story for my next card."
A half-truth.
Or rather, an excuse to cover up the original host's actions. Now that he occupied this body, the responsibility came with it. "I see," Anesia replied, clearly relieved. "I'm glad you're still working hard."
She took the glass of juice from him, sipping it lightly.
Then she continued, as if carefully choosing her words, "Also… don't worry too much. I think I can raise your card's grade by at least one level. There's a specific enchantment that might help stabilize it. I'll prepare it for you."
Her voice was gentle and reassuring. "So until then, be patient."
Before Kai could respond, she stepped closer and pulled him into a brief embrace. One hand rested on the back of his head, patting him softly.
"Just… don't do anything reckless," she said quietly. "We can work on the story details together later. One day, you'll definitely hold an S+ grade card in your hands."
Kai stiffened. His face pressed against something very soft.
Warm.
Comforting.
A faint scent—clean and calming—filled his senses. For a moment, he felt awkward… and oddly relaxed at the same time.
She's just treating me like a little brother, he reminded himself.
So he suppressed any unnecessary thoughts and gently stepped back.
"I'm not stupid," he said, coughing lightly. "And you should hear my story later. I think it can easily make at least an E+ grade card."
The confidence in his tone wasn't forced. It was natural. Because this time, he knew what he was doing. Anesia blinked, clearly surprised.
Then she smiled again—this time with a hint of curiosity. "If that's the case," she said, "then give it your best."
After all, obtaining another card wasn't difficult. He could simply level up or purchase a blank card from the System Shop if needed. And Kai still had one empty slot.
One chance.