The cold leather of the armchair wrapped around Nikolai Reindhart’s shoulders, soft enough to melt away thirty years of sleepless nights. Outside the arched windows of his private study, the sunlight poured over sprawling emerald lawns, manicured hedges, and marble fountains that trickled with crystal water.
Nikolai—formerly known to the brutal underworld as a nameless fixer who clawed his way up from the slums—let out a long, shuddering sigh of pure bliss.
"Finally," he muttered, swirling the rich amber liquid in his crystal glass. "No more debt collectors. No more rival syndicates trying to carve out my territory. No more pitching products to stubborn warlords."
For three decades, he had lived a waking nightmare. Born with nothing in the dirtiest alleyways of the lower districts, he had fought, schemed, and sold his way to the pinnacle of the underground economy. He was the legendary salesman who could talk a dragon into selling its own scales. But his sole motivation, the solitary anchor keeping him sane through the blood and sweat, was the dream of early retirement.
He had planned to buy a quiet cabin by the sea, sit on a porch, and do absolutely nothing until old age claimed him.
Instead, while testing a massive virtual reality role-playing game at the behest of a high-paying corporate client, a surge of static had torn through his headset. The world had gone blindingly white, and he had woken up right here—inside the game itself.
According to his flooded memories, he was now Nikolai Reindhart. In the lore of this fantasy realm, Nikolai was the textbook definition of a disaster: a high-born noble scumbag, universally despised, incompetent at magic, and utterly useless in a scrap.
A slow, triumphant grin spread across Nikolai's face.
Useless? Incompetent? Scumbag?
To anyone else, it was a nightmare. To a man who had worked himself to the bone for thirty years, it was paradise. No skills meant no expectations. Vast wealth meant a lifetime of luxurious leisure. High status meant nobody could drag him out of bed before noon.
"It's a dream come true," Nikolai whispered to the empty room, stretching his legs out toward the fireplace. "I don't need to save the world. I don't need to defeat a demon king. I am going to eat the finest food, sleep in the softest beds, and delegate every minor inconvenience to someone else. My only job for the next eighty years is to master the art of doing nothing."
He took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes half-closed in absolute contentment.
Then, the air in the room rippled.
A sharp, glowing pane of golden light materialized directly in front of his face, pulsing with an irritatingly cheerful chime.
[System Notification: Welcome, Host, to the Continent of Valoria!]
Nikolai blinked, his peaceful mood instantly souring. He waved a hand lazily through the projection, expecting it to vanish like a common illusion. "Dismiss. Close window. Go away."
[Error! Trait Awakening Sequence cannot be canceled.]
[Analyzing host soul and latent potential...]
[Analysis complete. Adjusting traits to match legendary status...]
The golden light flared blindingly bright, casting long, dancing shadows across the mahogany bookshelves. Nikolai sat upright, a sudden knot forming in his stomach.
['Universal Teacher of Magic' trait awakened!]
[Description: Your understanding of magical arts transcends mortal limits. Any spell, technique, or ancient rite you glance at is instantly mastered and can be effortlessly taught to anyone, turning even a pebble into a legendary artifact of arcane power.]
['Limitless Versatility' trait awakened!]
[Description: You possess no fixed path, allowing your body and mind to adapt to every known discipline, weapon, craft, and art form with absolute perfection upon first contact.]
['Overwhelming Charisma' trait awakened!]
[Description: Your presence commands absolute devotion. Kings will bow, monsters will submit, and loyal followers will willingly lay down their lives at a single word from your lips.]
The room fell dead silent, save for the crackling of the logs in the hearth.
Nikolai stared at the glowing notifications, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the arms of his chair. The dream of a quiet, lazy life—of being a useless, pampered aristocrat who could sip wine in peace—was shattering right before his eyes.
Slowly, the golden panels faded away, leaving him alone in the quiet study once more.
Nikolai buried his face in his hands, letting out a groan of pure, unadulterated despair that echoed off the marble pillars.
"Ah, damn it!" he shouted to the empty ceiling, his voice cracking with frustration. "I told you! I told everyone! I don't need any overpowered abilities!!"