Role-Playing System

Skofot woke up inside a moldy wooden crate.

The first thing he felt was hunger, so intense that his throat tightened.

Then he noticed his obviously shrunken limbs, and the rough fabric of his clothes rubbing against his skin.

The crate was cramped. He barely managed to prop himself up as light filtered through the gaps, illuminating the dust.

His hand touched a hard, stale piece of bread.

He grabbed it and stuffed it into his mouth, not caring when crumbs fell onto his lap.

The bread got stuck in his throat. He whimpered and pounded his chest hard before finally swallowing it.

Just then, a translucent panel suddenly appeared before his eyes.

[Welcome to another world, Host]

[I am the Role-Playing System, wait]

[Host, don't die!!]

A warm current suddenly spread from his spine.

The twisting pain in his stomach, the dryness in his throat, and the soreness throughout his body vanished as if erased by an eraser.

He let out a long breath, his body feeling lighter than ever before.

"So I transmigrated," he murmured. "No wonder my body felt so strange."

[Your name here is Skofot Tom Leoqi. You are currently seven years old.]

Skofot nodded, adapting to the new name.

"What is the Role-Playing System...?"

[You may use 100 Emotion Points for a Card Draw. Emotion Points may also be used as energy. Please explore the specific functions yourself.]

[Would you like to activate the beginner benefit?]

"Activate it."

The panel flickered.

[Card Draw ×1]

"Draw."

A card spun across the virtual interface before finally stopping.

[Drawing--]

[Leader--Class Introduction: He is a politician: bright, just, and charismatic.

Buff: Majesty

Introduction: Those who fear you will feel oppressed.

Debuff: Darkness Fear

Introduction: You are afraid of the dark.]

Skofot processed the information. He pushed open the crate lid and climbed out.

He was in a backyard piled high with clutter.

He brushed the dust from himself. His face was still childish, but his eyes did not belong to a seven-year-old.

Three years later.

Deep within an alley in the Muggle World, a black-haired boy nimbly avoided the unknown liquid flowing across the ground.

Skofot Tom Leoqi wore an old robe that was slightly too large for him, though it had been washed clean.

He stopped before a battered wooden door.

The sound of arguing came from inside.

"That little bastard definitely stole my money!"

Skofot pushed the door open and entered.

Inside, two ragged men were grabbing hold of an even smaller, thinner child.

"I saw it," Skofot said.

His voice was not particularly deep yet, but something about him made the two men immediately let go.

"Who the hell are you?" the taller man shouted, putting on a brave front.

Skofot did not answer. He only looked at them.

His gaze was terrifyingly calm. (He was scared to death.)

[Emotion Points +10]

[Emotion Points +15]

The shorter man tugged at his companion's sleeve.

"Forget it. Let's go."

They hurried away without even daring to look back.

The rescued child thanked him timidly and shoved a piece of bread that looked edible into Skofot's hands.

[Emotion Points +5]

Skofot accepted the bread and nodded. He turned and walked out of the ruined house, taking a bite.

The sky gradually darkened, and the first trace of night crept over the rooftops. He quickened his pace.

Darkness surged from the end of the street like a tide.

Though he knew it was merely psychological, his breathing truly began to grow rapid.

That Darkness Fear debuff had never eased over the past three years.

He had to return to the abandoned attic before nightfall.

That had been where he stayed these past few years.

Before the last glimmer of light vanished at the street corner, he slipped into a dilapidated building.

He climbed the creaking stairs, crawled into the attic, and quickly shut the door.

With his back against the door, he slowly slid down to the floor.

Outside, Knockturn Alley's nightlife was only just beginning.

He still had a long road ahead of him.

Time passed swiftly, and Skofot spent four years amid the shadows and cracks of the alley.

At eleven, he had grown a little taller, though he remained thin.

The harshness of his surroundings had taught him the importance of self-defense. Through certain special channels,

he acquired an old-fashioned pistol and carefully hid it in his shelter within the abandoned attic.

He had also long since figured out that he was in Britain, a Britain both familiar and unfamiliar to him.

At that moment, he leaned against a creaking wooden wall and silently recited, "System, draw."

[Emotion Points -100]

[Emotion Points: 3390]

The virtual panel appeared. A card spun, then finally stopped.

[Rabbit Rhymer--Introduction: A rabbit who was mistaken for a meat rabbit by Death at the Adventurers' Guild, but was ultimately kept as a pet because he acted cute.

Buff: Fragility

Introduction: Every action you take will carry a sense of fragility and forced bravado. Beware those with improper intentions.

Buff: Affinity

Introduction: You will possess a natural affinity toward those who bear you goodwill.

Debuff: Your strength will be weakened.]

[Note: Only one card may be equipped at a time, and the first time each card is equipped, it must be worn for a full week.]

Skofot... stared at the new card, clearly stunned for a moment.

Completely unlike the imposing [Leader] card from before, this one carried the air of a weakling who needed to depend on others to survive.

But he did not hesitate. Survival came first, and any possible ability needed to be tested.

"Equip Rabbit Rhymer."

The instant the command was issued, he clearly felt something being drawn out of his body.

The little bit of strength he had built up from years of vigilance and occasional fights drained away like air from a deflating ball.

He even had to hold onto the wall to remain standing as a weak, weightless sensation enveloped him.

At the same time, he noticed a change in his temperament.

An unusual aura that easily stirred others' desire to protect him, or... other thoughts, silently spread from him.

He frowned. This uncontrollable change made him uncomfortable, especially the warning to beware those with improper intentions.

He lowered his head and looked at his now even slimmer wrist. When he tried to clench his fist, it was indeed limp and powerless.

In this state, let alone using a gun for self-defense, he would probably struggle to push open a heavy door.

"For the first week, I'll have to be especially careful."

He murmured softly. There was a faint softness in his voice that even he did not notice, unlike his usual calm detachment.

He took a deep breath and tried to adapt to the weakness. His gaze fell on the attic's tiny window, beyond which lay London's gloomy skyline.

These seven days would be difficult.

On the seventh day of wearing the [Rabbit Rhymer] card, while his body was in an unprecedented state of weakness and sensitivity, a Barn Owl flew through the attic's broken window and dropped a letter before Skofot.

He picked it up in confusion. The parchment felt unfamiliar and strange. He broke the wax seal, and the contents of the letter struck him like a bolt from the blue: