It happened so fast. Too fast for me to even register the event properly.
One moment, I was sitting peacefully on my damn nine-year-old couch, and the next, I was shot.
Yes, the shot came from the next room beside mine.
The bullet had to have been magically enhanced—it tore straight through the wall, sliced into my room with unnatural precision, and lodged itself right into my goddamn head.
There had been an argument, of course.
But never in my wildest thoughts did I imagine it would escalate like that.
Those idiotic buffaloes were arguing over crab meat—crab meat—and somehow, a gun got involved.
Humans are so blessed with peace that they've resorted to killing one another over the most meaningless things.
And just look at what happened to me.
Well, that's my—
"Huh?"
I think I survived…
No, that's impossible.
A bullet to the head?
There's no surviving that—not if my knowledge of the human body is correct.
But this feels different. I can feel my limbs. My head aches like hell.
Slowly, I forced my eyes open.
At first, my vision was blurry, a dull haze clouding my sight.
But little by little, the world sharpened into focus.
The first thing I saw was a grand, opulent room—far too extravagant, far too refined, and leagues beyond anything I had ever known.
The ceiling stretched high above, adorned with delicate gold filigree and an intricate chandelier that cast a soft glow across the room.
Heavy, dark blue curtains framed massive windows, their embroidered edges barely shifted despite the faint breeze.
The walls were painted a deep navy, lined with elegant silver trimmings, giving the space an air of sophistication that felt almost suffocating.
A large, polished desk sat against one side, littered with parchment, expensive pens, and what seemed to be blueprints or notes of advanced academia—far beyond what a child should be studying.
Across from it, a towering bookshelf stretched nearly to the ceiling, packed with tomes whose spines bore titles far too complex for anyone under eighteen.
But the strangest thing?
More books were piled haphazardly on the plush carpet beside an enormous bed—stacked in a way that suggested they had been read, devoured even.
Some had bookmarks poking out, others left open as though their reader had abandoned them mid-thought.
And the bed itself—it was ridiculous.
Large enough to fit three people, its silken sheets were a crisp white, layered with deep indigo blankets and soft pillows embroidered with a crest I didn't recognise.
This was a noble's room, no doubt about it.
And yet, it didn't belong to a nobleman.
It belonged to a child.
I began to wonder where I was until, in an instant, memories flooded my mind, and I realised—I was in the body of the Glorious Child of Maove Kingdom, the one child rumoured to possess all Specialities.
In this world, magic and beasts existed. But before I go any further, I should define what a Speciality is.
That's simple: a Speciality is a unique skill bestowed upon an individual by Glory, the Goddess of Light.
It could be anything—
Perfect Recall – The ability to remember everything one sees, hears, or reads with absolute accuracy.
Master Negotiator – A skill that allows one to persuade, manipulate, or deceive others with near-unmatched charisma.
Tactical Foresight – The instinct to predict and counter an opponent's moves in battle or strategy.
Endurance – A body that resists fatigue, allowing one to keep going far beyond normal human limits.
Precision Hand – The ability to perform delicate or complex movements with absolute control, from calligraphy to lock-picking.
I, in my former life, had none.
I was just a useless piece of walking trash with no significant destination.
In fact, none at all.
Of course, magic cores were as revered as Specialities.
If one was not fortunate enough to be granted a Speciality, then possessing a magic core was the next best thing.
A magic core allowed one to master spells and wield them in combat.
With it, men could become wizards, and women could become witches.
And trust me, it was the best thing imaginable.
At the age of eighteen, humans would typically enter an academy to train and hone their abilities.
If they succeeded, they would be granted a Sig Card, allowing them to hunt down beasts beyond the kingdom's defences.
Slaying these beasts was a major path to power, wealth, and status—a ticket to all sorts of privileges.
And the best reward of all?
Unrestricted freedom!
No damn rules to tie you down!
A dream coveted by all, yet achieved by only a rare few.
This child—the body I now inhabited—happened to be one of those few.
In fact, he was even among the prestigious Six Specials, a group of individuals with Hidden-Class potential.
The power rankings were as follows:
Human Classes:
Hidden-Class.
First-Class.
Second-Class.
Third-Class.
Beast Ranks:
Mutant.
Berserk.
Dire.
Lot.
Hizen.
Typically, those ranked First-Class to Third-Class would never dare to face a beast above the Dire rank.
These creatures were rare but terrifyingly powerful.
Those unfortunate enough to cross paths with one—if they managed to survive—would tell stories of how they barely escaped death.
The Six Specials all lived under the same massive mansion, their training sponsored by Queen Elara herself.
Unlike others, they might never even need to attend an academy, should the Queen decree it.
However, as I sifted through the many memories now embedded in my mind, I uncovered a shocking truth—
This little bastard had tricked the entire world.
I, too, had been deceived.
Like everyone else, I had believed the boy was truly special.
But the reality?
This five-year-old fraud didn't have all Specialities.
He had only one—Sword Mastery.
And worse, he didn't even have a real magic core.
Because in truth, it was impossible to possess both a magic core and a Speciality at the same time.
This kid's so-called magic core was fake. Though no one knew he had any in the first place.
It allowed him to mimic any Speciality, using it for a short time before it locked down for an extended period.
The only ability without restriction was Sword Mastery.
The brat was that smart.
He fooled the entire world in the blink of an eye.
But the most pressing question remained—
How the hell did he even get a fake magic core?!