The rain didn't stop. It hadn't for three days now, turning the world into a cold gray blur that matched the city's mood. Puddles painted with oil slicks decorated the sidewalks, and the neon lights above flickered like dying fireflies. Everything felt like it was rotting slowly—buildings, streets, even people.
Ray hunched his shoulders beneath his too-thin hoodie, steam rising from his breath as he trudged forward. His shoes—once white, now permanently stained and torn—squished with every step. The soaked paper bag in his arms barely held together, filled with his meager dinner: two instant ramen packs and a dented can of black coffee.
People passed him without a glance. No one saw him—not really. Just another background figure in a broken city. He didn't blame them. He was used to being invisible.
He turned the corner into a narrow alley, the one he always took on his way back from the discount market. It was a shortcut behind some apartment complexes, and during the day, kids used to play here before it got too dangerous. Now, it was just shadows and trash bins.
Halfway through, Ray froze. There was a sound—a pitiful mewl, sharp and desperate.
A small cat, bones visible beneath dirty fur, crouched beside an overflowing dumpster. It looked like it hadn't eaten in days. Ray blinked. A cold breeze rattled the trash and pressed through his hoodie, but he didn't move. His body screamed to keep walking. He'd done enough. It wasn't his job to save anything.
But something stopped him.
Ray crouched down slowly. "Hey…" he said softly. "C'mere."
The cat didn't move. Its eyes watched him, wide and wild.
Reaching into the paper bag, Ray tore open one of the ramen packets with trembling hands and spilled out the dry noodles. He placed them down gently, not caring about the waste. The cat took a hesitant step forward, then another. Ray's breath caught as it began to eat, scarfing down the brittle strands like they were a feast.
He smiled.
It was small and stupid and meant nothing. But it was something.
Then, tires screeched. Headlights surged from the alley's far end. A car barreled toward him, skidding across the wet concrete.
Ray turned too late.
The last thing he saw was the cat darting away.
Then came the sound of metal. Bone. Glass. And then nothing at all.
He didn't know how long the darkness lasted.
At first, he thought he was still lying in that alley. But there was no pain. No rain. No cold.
Then came sound.
Voices.
"Look at him! He's beautiful!"
"He has his father's eyes…"
"No, his mother's nose—see?"
Warmth surrounded him. Not the kind from old heaters or layered jackets. This was different. Soft. Cradling. He tried to open his eyes but found them resisting. His limbs refused to obey. Panic clawed at him.
What's going on?
Why can't I move?
He managed to open one eye. Golden light bathed everything in a soft glow, sunlight spilling through a wide window. A large, wooden ceiling curved above him. Drapes. A chandelier. Expensive-looking fabrics.
A woman leaned over him, her face radiant with love and tears.
Ray flinched.
Her hand touched his cheek with reverence. "My sweet Raylen," she whispered.
Raylen?
A deep voice followed. "He's healthy. Strong cries already. He'll be a warrior one day."
His head turned—no, it was turned for him. A man stood at the bedside, arms crossed but eyes watery. His face was proud. Noble. Strong.
Ray's thoughts scrambled. His lips moved, but the sound came out as a confused gurgle. The woman laughed softly and pulled him close. Her embrace was so real, so warm, it hurt.
"What… what is this?" he wanted to say. But he had no voice.
He glanced at his hands. Small. Tiny.
His limbs—soft, helpless.
I'm a baby?
A voice echoed in his head.
💠 [System Initialization… Complete.]
💠 [Welcome, Raylen Arkwright. You have been selected as the Chosen Hero of Virtue.]
💠 [Main Quest: Bring Light to the World of Eridia.]
💠 [Penalty for refusal: Consequences may include death, dismemberment, divine smiting, and extreme public shame.]
Ray's eyes widened in terror. WHAT?
Another message followed.
💠 [System Note: This is totally a great honor! Yay! You'll love it! ❤️]
What the hell was going on!?
Ray was no stranger to games, systems, and fantasy tropes. Back in his old life, the only escape from his hellish days was through MMORPGs and web novels. He'd grind from dusk till dawn just to forget the hunger pangs. His cramped apartment had been his prison, filled with old magazines and the scent of mold. He'd lived off instant food and broken dreams.
No family. No friends. Just him, the internet, and stories of worlds he'd never touch.
He didn't know who had it out for him, but clearly, someone thought it'd be hilarious to drop him into one of those worlds and slap a glowing system interface into his brain.
💠 [Daily Virtue Quest: Hug your mother.]
💠 [Reward: 0.1 Affection Point | Penalty: Sudden Loss of Bladder Control]
What?!
The messages wouldn't stop appearing. Each more absurd than the last.
💠 [Reminder: You are the ONLY user of the VirtueForge™ System. Designed for maximum moral development and heroism training.]
💠 [Refusing moral development may result in EXP fines, smiting, and deeply uncomfortable bowel issues.
This had to be a dream. A twisted, overly detailed dream.
But it wasn't.
As the days passed—and he adjusted to his new body—it became terrifyingly clear: he'd been reborn.
In a castle.
To nobles.
With a big, warm family who smiled every time he opened his eyes.
And no escape.
No log-out button.
Just that chirpy, well-meaning, idiotic system always throwing quests at him like:
💠 [Pat your older sister's head and tell her she's cool. Trust us, she needs it.]
Ray wanted to cry.
But he didn't.
Because for the first time in either of his lives, when he looked into the eyes of the people around him—his parents, his sisters—he saw something he'd never truly had.
Love.
He didn't understand this world. He didn't want to be its "Chosen Hero." He didn't want quests or glory or saving kingdoms.
He just wanted to be… happy.
To enjoy food that wasn't instant.
To laugh without guilt.
To feel what it meant to belong.
And while he was lazy—and fully planned to stay that way—there was one thing he would never slack on:
Protecting his new family.
Even if the world burned around him.
Even if the system kept pestering him about virtue.
He'd do it his way.
Slow.
Stubborn.
And absolutely unbothered.
He did too much in his last life and never had time to enjoy it. He wouldn't let fate or any system make him do the same again.