Wishes.
Such a small word for something so vast.
Every human carries them—secret dreams, desperate hopes, unspoken regrets. Some wish for love, others for power, and some just for a second chance. But what happens when an all-powerful being offers to grant them?
Excitement? Of course. Suspicion? Naturally. But in the end… what choice did I really have?
Even if I doubted this "Creator," even if some part of me whispered that this was too good to be true—what could I do? Decline? Let myself be erased, recycled into nothingness, my existence wiped clean like a slate?
No.
I wanted to live. Not just survive—thrive.
And so, with a racing mind and a soul trembling between fear and exhilaration, I made my choice.
The Creator's Terms
The being before me—God, Creator, Architect, whatever he was—watched with those endless crimson eyes as I gathered my thoughts. His expression remained impassive, neither encouraging nor dismissive. Just… waiting.
"There are limits," he said, as if sensing my hesitation. "No immortality. No omniscience. And no wishing for things that break the world's logic."
A pause. Then, almost as an afterthought:
"Also, no Sharingan."
I blinked. Did he just—?
"Yes, I did." He sighed, the first hint of something resembling exasperation flickering across his face. "Last time, someone asked for a Rinnegan and a Stand. That universe still hasn't recovered."
I wisely decided not to ask.
Instead, I focused on the most critical detail:
"You will be reincarnated into the Versatile Mage world as MoFan," he continued. "Mo Fan's fate will become yours. His destiny, his role—yours now. Choose wisely."
A protagonist's life. A world of magic, beasts, and endless possibilities.
And I got to keep my memories.
This… is a privilege.
"It is," the Creator agreed. "But you will forget this conversation. No one remembers me. The last one who did started a cult. Annoying business."
You don't seem like the type to care about mortal religions.
"I don't," he said flatly. "But I do care when someone uses my name to seduce women under the guise of 'holy rituals.'"
Ah. Fair.
"Now," he said, gesturing impatiently. "Your wishes. You have five minutes."
Five minutes?!
"Yes. You're testing my patience. Next person gets a cuckold system if they dawdle."
OH HELL NO.