So the "gift" that so-called God mentioned?
Yeah. It was a system.
And not even a cool one.
For a moment, I dared to hope — maybe I’d get legendary quests, growth missions, a fate-breaking cheat ability.
Nope.
It was bare-bones.
No voice.
No quests.
No daily rewards.
Not even a welcome bonus for reincarnating.
Just a plain status window that showed numbers and a tiny shop with nothing in it.
"Thanks, God. Truly divine support."
I opened the status screen again, praying I had read wrong.
*****
Name: Lucien Ashborne
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Race: Human
Affiliation: Imperial Academy / Ashborne House
Personality Traits: Arrogant, Impulsive, Cruel, Entitled
Stats:
Strength: 4
Agility: 3
Endurance: 3
Intelligence: 6
Mana: 4
Charm: 63
Skills:
Mana Control Lv. 1 (Poor)
Horse Riding Lv. 3
Basic Etiquette (Only useful at tea parties)
Intimidation (Useless now that everyone hates me)
Points: 0
System Shop: [Currently Unavailable]
*****
I blinked.
"What the hell is this... garbage?"
He had no combat talent, no magic talent, and his stats were lower than the average commoner foot soldier. He is a cadet and doesn’t even have a single combat related skill.
Yet this idiot was running around the academy acting like a mafia boss?
"...If I didn’t know the story, I’d bully myself too."
If he weren’t the only heir of the Ashborne family, he would’ve been kicked out long before I arrived. Even after causing such a ruckus, I was just exiled till I redeemed myself. Though I still don’t know what they meant my redemption.
I sighed and looked at my neatly packed clothes inside the bag.
Then my gaze drifted around the room — luxurious items, expensive decorations, gold-trimmed furniture.
I had thought I could ignore all that junk.
But now?
"I don’t have the privilege to leave anything behind anymore."
Money was now my lifeline.
I began packing everything that looked valuable:
jewellery, watches, decorative daggers, even that stupid golden lamp.
By the time I was done, the room looked like it had been cleaned out by a professional thief.
I checked the wall clock.
4 PM.
The dorm eviction deadline was 5 PM.
"I should get moving."
Not only did I need to report to the disciplinary office...
I also needed to find a place to sleep tonight.
I stared one last time at the empty room.
The room that once belonged to a spoiled young master.
Now stripped clean and cold.
My new life started now —
as a disgraced villain in a doomed world.
"...At least I’m not dead," I muttered, slinging the heavy bag over my shoulder.
I headed to the dormitory office, returned the key to the warden.
She didn’t even look at me.
Not one word. Not even disgust — just indifference.
Honestly, that felt worse.
As I walked away, I once again heard whispers behind me.
"There goes the trash noble."
"Finally, he’s out."
"He deserves worse."
I ignored them. I had bigger problems now than bruised ego.
By the time I stepped off academy grounds, the sun was dipping.
Barely one month into the semester...
And I was already homeless.
Bravo, Lucien. Bravo.
Luckily, nobles always carry money, so I booked an inn and collapsed on the bed — didn’t even bother to unpack.
Tomorrow was going to be hell anyway.
****
Morning.
I woke up early, a luxury I didn’t have back home.
Maybe because fear is a great alarm clock.
I checked out of the inn with my bag filled with my new life savings and stepped into the chilly morning air.
I couldn’t live in inns forever — way too expensive.
I needed a place, which meant I needed money.
And I knew exactly where to start.
****
The building I stopped at looked like it should have collapsed five years ago.
A crooked signboard hung above:
"Merle’s Pawn & Trade"
This was a place players always used in the game — a dirty but reliable shop where items were bought at fair prices... usually.
Inside, the air smelled like dust, old wood, and regret.
The counter was staffed by a hunched old man with a beard so long it was practically a scarf.
Thick round spectacles magnified his eyes to owl-like proportions.
His clothes were rough, patched more times than I could count.
But his gaze was sharp.
The kind of sharp that sees numbers in everything.
Without a word, I approached the counter and dropped my bag with a thud.
"I want to sell this."
He raised a brow.
"The bag?" he asked dryly.
"No — the contents."
He stared at me for a moment.
Then, slowly, the corners of his mouth lifted.
"You’re quite the direct one. I like that."
He opened the bag — and gasped.
The gold items.
The jewellery.
The stupid luxury watches.
His eyes sparkled brighter than the gems.
"Well, well, well... Looks like this old man will need a loan to afford all this," he chuckled.
"How much can you give me?" I asked, not wasting time.
"Oh ho... also impatient? Very good."
He stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"Assessing everything properly will take time. Why don’t you have breakfast? Come back by noon."
I nodded and left.
*****
Across the street was a small restaurant.
I sat at a corner table.
The waitress served my meal quickly — a plate of pale, chewy "meat" from some monster I didn’t know, mashed potatoes, and bread.
British cuisine would cry in solidarity.
This world’s cooking was... bleak.
But what else could I expect from a land that’s been at war for centuries?
I sighed.
"I miss fast food. And cola. And pizza. And everything with flavour."
With no better choice, I ordered toast, a sad-looking omelette, and a cup of bitter coffee.
As I lifted my fork to eat—
Ding!
The restaurant door opened.
A group of students in academy uniforms walked in — laughter and conversation filling the room.
My heart sank when I saw who it was.
They were unmistakable.
Bright, confident, talented — the Protagonist’s party.
The heroes destined to save the world.
And I, the disgraced villain, was sitting right in their path.