My name is Alexander Draco. I'm a full-blooded American, and like most people, I live a quiet, uneventful life—just another face in the crowd. I work long hours, from 7 in the morning until 8 in the evening, stuck behind a desk in a cold, gray office. My boss? Let's just say he's not exactly what you'd call "pleasant." For some reason, he always singles me out—like I'm the punching bag for everything that goes wrong.
I don't have a family. I grew up in an orphanage, so I've always been alone. The only comfort I've ever really had came from the worlds inside books, anime, and novels—especially the ones about systems, leveling up, and becoming powerful. They made me feel like maybe, just maybe, life could be something more.
One of my favorite hobbies is reading. Not just fiction, but anything I can get my hands on—survival guides, farming techniques, world history. I've always admired the great people who carved their names into history, those who rose from nothing and became legends. Deep down, I wanted to be like them—to leave my mark, even if no one knew my name.
On Fridays, I finally get a break. Since my work only runs Monday to Thursday, I use that one free day to go to the gym and work on my body. I'm not a fitness freak, but I try. I want to improve—physically and mentally. I may not be handsome like celebrities or models. Honestly, if I had to rate myself on a scale from 1 to 10, I'd give myself a 4. Not much to look at. Not that confident. But still... I try to love myself. That has to count for something, right?
Just like always, the same routine repeated itself. I got up, prepared myself, and headed off to work. My boss… well, he was being his usual self. I actually counted this morning—he blamed me three times before lunch. It's like he wakes up every day and thinks, "How can I ruin Alexander's life today?"
There were moments when I thought about fighting back. Telling him off. Standing up for myself. But I never did. I couldn't afford to. If I lost this job, I wouldn't have food to eat or a place to sleep. I learned that the hard way by watching what happened to one of my coworkers. He was the first one the boss targeted. When he finally had enough and spoke up, the next day he came in just to clean out his desk. I heard he got fired over a single phone call that very night.
Since then, the boss needed a new scapegoat—and lucky me, I won the lottery. I became the new target. I just keep my head down and ignore him as best as I can.
Luckily, it's only been three incidents so far this morning. Whew. I wonder how many more are waiting for me this afternoon. I glanced at my watch. It was already noon.
"Alright… time to eat." I muttered to myself as I exited the office building, stretching a little to shake off the morning stress. My stomach grumbled in agreement. I didn't notice the traffic light wasn't green. I didn't hear the yelling from nearby pedestrians. I was too absorbed in my own thoughts—thinking about how I'd keep my composure this afternoon, how to deal with my boss's next round of verbal punches without snapping, and, oddly enough, what I'd cook tonight.
Cooking was one of the few things that brought me peace. I had a full set of cooking gear at home, from knives to mixers. I even stocked up on spices and ingredients like it was my personal kitchen kingdom. Just thinking about trying a new recipe made me feel a little better.
But then, the shouting grew louder—closer. I blinked, confused. Are they shouting at me? That's when I saw it.
A truck.
Barreling straight toward me.
Shit.
Time seemed to slow down. I couldn't move. My body locked up in that split-second moment of shock and panic.
Is this it? Am I really about to die…?
I had so many thoughts rushing through my head—memories, regrets. But one screamed louder than the rest:
I'm still a virgin! I'm 30 and I've never even— Damn it! Does this make me a sage or something?
Then, another thought hit me—morbid and ironic.
Wait… am I about to get reincarnated? Just like those protagonists who die getting hit by a truck?
And just like that, my thoughts stopped.
The truck slammed into me.
Everything went black.
I don't know how long I was out—minutes, hours, days? But suddenly, I woke up.
My eyes snapped open and a wave of shock ran through my entire body. Wait… didn't I die? My heart pounded as I sat up quickly, scanning my surroundings. "Where the hell am I?" I muttered.
I was alive—at least, I thought I was. No pain, no blood. No truck. But I wasn't in the city anymore either.
All around me stretched a vast, endless white landscape. It was like standing in the middle of a blank canvas, untouched by time or reality. No sun. No shadows. Just… nothingness.
"This is weird," I whispered. The air was still. Too still.
Suddenly—
AGHHH!!
An intense, brain-piercing pain shot through my skull, like a thousand needles stabbing into my head all at once. I dropped to my knees, clutching my temples, gritting my teeth as the agony burned through every nerve.
I thought I was going to die again.
Memories—foreign and heavy—flooded into my mind. They weren't mine. Not from Earth. Not from Alexander Draco.
These were the memories of… a god.
Wait... what?
I stayed there, kneeling in silence, breathing heavily as the pain slowly faded. Sweat clung to my skin—or whatever this new skin was. My mind was spinning, trying to make sense of it all.
This body… it belonged to a god.
A real, divine god.
The world I was in now was called Gaia, a realm of ancient power, divine battles, and celestial politics. Apparently, I was the weakest god of them all. The others barely even acknowledged my existence—treating me like cosmic trash, an insect floating in their divine skies.
I clenched my fists.
"Tch… weak god, huh? We'll see about that."
Out of curiosity—and a bit of fear—I focused, trying to use the divine energy now coursing through me. I didn't even know how, but instinct took over. My will shaped the energy like breath to fire. With a shimmer in the air, a mirror of light materialized before me.
I froze.
Staring back at me was not the tired, average-looking office worker I used to be. No.
The face in the mirror was divine.
Long, dark hair framed a sharp, elegant face with smooth skin and striking symmetry. His eyes—my eyes—glowed a deep crimson, like molten gems, filled with power and something ancient. A crescent mark glowed faintly on his forehead, as if the moon itself had blessed me. His lips were full but firm, slightly parted as if ready to command the stars. Gold earrings shimmered against his dark hair, and the black robes I wore gave off an aura of nobility and mystery.
He looked like a god of fire and twilight.
"…Holy shit," I whispered. "I'm… I'm hot. No, not just hot—divine-tier handsome."
I laughed—genuinely laughed—for the first time in what felt like years. "If I were to rate this face out of ten, it'd break the scale. No cap. This face would put every celebrity on Earth to shame. Wahahahaha!"
Finally, finally… I was no longer a nameless face in a crowd.
My name… is no longer Alexander Draco.
From now on, I am Zephry Fallus, the God of Fire.
Though fire usually represents strength, destruction, and passion, I'm currently anything but powerful. Among all the gods that exist in this realm, I'm ranked at the bottom. The weakest of the weak.
Why?
Because divine power in this world is directly tied to belief—faith. The more followers a god has, the more divine energy they possess. And me?
I barely have enough believers to keep my divine spark alive. While the higher gods have hundreds of thousands—millions—worshipping them, my worshippers could probably fit in a small café. That's how pathetic my current state is.
This domain I'm standing in—this blank space of white—is the most basic divine realm. Every god has one. It reflects their power, their identity, their status. Right now, mine looks like a boring void. No flames. No beauty. Just emptiness.
But that's going to change.
Because I'm not just some weakling with a new face and a new name.
I have something the others don't—knowledge.
I've read hundreds of novels. I've studied systems. I've watched anime, read martial arts manuals, and consumed lore from every genre imaginable. I understand structure, progression, leveling, evolution. While the gods here rely on age-old rituals and primitive power, I'll bring something new to this world.
A system.
I'll build a divine leveling system—my system. One that grows with every believer, one that grants skills and classes, one that spreads like wildfire across Gaia. I'll turn ordinary mortals into champions and guide their evolution.
Every time they level up, so will I.
Every miracle they perform in my name will feed my power.
No more being ignored. No more being stepped on.
I am Zephry Fallus—the weakest god, yes. But also the one with the potential to surpass them all.
"Alright," I said to myself, fire beginning to rise at my fingertips for the first time. "Time to rise."
Let the other gods laugh.
Let them mock me.
Let them tremble when they realize the world is about to change.
Because I'm not playing by their rules.