Sunlight poured over the ancient city, casting a golden hue on the stone streets and weathered buildings. People moved about, shouting in marketplaces, pulling carts, chatting in corners—just another ordinary day for them.
But in a narrow, dirty alley that reeked of garbage and rot, a teenage boy slowly opened his eyes. Around seventeen or eighteen, black-haired, dressed in strange modern clothes, he sat up and looked around with growing confusion.
"W-What the hell...? Wasn't I just at home?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes. Nothing around him looked familiar. The damp stone beneath him was cold, and the smell was awful.
He stood up and walked to the end of the alley. What he saw stunned him—an old-fashioned city, almost medieval. People wore rough, outdated clothing. Their hair was unkempt, their skin weathered. Everything looked like something straight out of a historical drama.
And yet here he was, standing out like a sore thumb. His jeans and t-shirt caught everyone's attention the moment he stepped out of the alley. He could feel the stares, the whispered murmurs.
As he tried to make sense of things, a strange sound echoed in his mind. It was like a soft bell chime, clear and unnatural. Then, a thought—not a voice, but words that simply appeared in his mind—made him freeze.
> "The 'Many Children, Much Fortune' system has been activated."
His eyes widened.
"What… the hell is going on?" he whispered. "Is this... a system? Like in those novels?"
The answer came instantly.
> "Yes, you are now the host."
He nearly jumped in excitement, but held himself back. Everyone around was still staring, and the last thing he needed was to look like a lunatic.
He remembered reading about a system like this somewhere. A system where the more children the protagonist had, the stronger they became.
> "Correct," the thought confirmed again, as if reading his mind.
"But I don't have money. No house. How am I even supposed to marry anyone?"
There was a short pause. Then more words appeared.
> "Opening starter pack..."
Suddenly, information flooded his mind. A pouch of 1,000 gold coins. A technique called Dragon–Phoenix Dual Cultivation. He didn't need anyone to explain it—he instinctively understood how it worked.
This was a cultivation world. That technique alone confirmed it. Somewhere inside his mind, a new space had opened. It was like an inventory—inside were the coins and the scroll. He could feel their presence, as real as anything around him.
So it was real. The system, the world, the power—it was all real.