He blinked again.
Not because he didn't understand — but because this wasn't supposed to be possible.
He reached out, a little cautiously, and tapped the glowing class icon again.
Name: Eishi Lucivar
Age: 16
Points: 5 pts
Current Class:
[(B) Violinist – Mastery : 93%]
Sub Class :
[Empty]
Available Classes:
(C) Villager – 1 pts
(C) Pianist – 1 pts
(C) Illustrator – 1 pts
(B) Chef – 2 pts
(B) Singer – 2 pts
(B) Chess Master- 2pts
(B) Martial Artist – 2 pts
(B) Alchemist – 2 pts
(B) Soccer (GoalKeeper) – 2 pts
(A) Dark Slayer – Locked
(A) Tech Engineer – Locked
(A) Dreamweaver – Locked
(S) Unknown – Locked
"Five points? Huh. How do I even have five?" he muttered.
He waited, hoping the system would offer an answer.
Silence.
He sighed. "Yeah… didn't think so."
He scrolled through the list again. "Weird. All the classes up to B-rank have point values, but the A and S-rank ones don't even show costs. Are they locked behind something else? Maybe a hidden condition?"
His eyes landed on the first one.
"Villager, huh? What kind of class is that?"
He tapped it.
Class: Villager (C)
Description: A humble existence often overlooked. This villager excels in negotiation, bartering, and adapting to their environment. They can sell something as simple as a leather shoe for an emerald, and always seem to know who's buying what. Don't underestimate them — a well-placed deal can shift the tide of power.
He squinted.
"…Sounds like one of those traders in those pixel world games. All it needs is that creepy 'hrrmm' noise."
He shook his head. "Yeah… not for me. I'll pass."
Next up—
He hovered over Martial Artist.
Class: Martial Artist (B)
Description: A student who devotes their body and soul to the mastery of martial forms. Hand-to-hand combat, body discipline, pressure point strikes, and physical conditioning are just the beginning. Successor who trains under multiple masters, each representing a different martial style—karate, muay thai, jiu-jitsu, aikido, and more. A warrior of adaptation and tenacity.
Eishi raised an eyebrow. "That sounds… really cool."
Without hesitating, he clicked [Unlock].
The screen flashed.
Class unlocked: Martial Artist
And suddenly—
He staggered slightly.
"Whoa—what the hell—?"
A strange sensation rippled through his muscles. Energy flowed into his limbs. His stance shifted instinctively, as if his body remembered training that he'd never gone through.
He punched the air.
His form was sharp. Solid.
"I feel like I could punch a wall…" he whispered. His heart pounded—not in fear, but in excitement.
Flashes of memory flooded his mind. Endless repetition of form, a teacher correcting his posture, the burn of training.
He grinned.
"Nice."
He glanced at his screen. Martial Artist now sat under his subclass list.
Satisfied, he scrolled down again.
"Alright, Pianist. Let's see…"
Class: Pianist (C)
Description: A musician who transforms emotion into sound. Famous pianists throughout history have poured their souls into ivory keys, from Rachmaninoff's thunderous chords to Chopin's aching melodies. Elegance and intensity in every note.
"…Refined. Not bad. I'll leave this one for later."
He moved on.
Class: Illustrator (C)
Description: Artists who capture the world in lines and color. Some can create magical illustrations that come to life. Others simply bring comfort through the beauty of their art.
"Simple, but kind of nice," he said. "Maybe useful for storyboarding someday."
Then his eyes hovered over the Singer class.
Class: Singer (B)
Description: A voice that can move hearts or silence armies. Legendary singers have changed the world with a single chorus — be it the soul of Freddie Mercury, the power of Whitney Houston, or the raw emotion of Aimer. A class that amplifies charisma, presence, and emotion.
Eishi smiled. "That one… is tempting."
And finally, he tapped his current class — Violinist.
Class: Violinist (B)
Description: A virtuoso who plays with emotion sharp enough to cut the soul. Their melodies can charm crowds or chill blood. A rare few elevate their performances into otherworldly experiences, where even devils pause to listen.
The final memory in his head played again, clearer now.
The spotlight.
The silence of the crowd.
The opening note trembling beneath his bow.
And then… a piece so beautiful, so desperate, it pulled people into his sorrow.
The crescendo.
The fall.
He collapsed before the final note.
"…So that's the level of a B-Class," he murmured. "I guess C means above average. B is genius."
He looked up at the locked A-rank classes.
"…And A would be something beyond genius?"
He hovered over one.
Nothing.
Still locked.
"Huh. Maybe I need to hit some kind of requirement first."
His eyes went back to his Martial Artist
"Anyway, I'll stick with this for now. Why?"
He stood up from the hospital bed, back cracking slightly, joints rolling smoothly into place. His body stretched with a grace he hadn't noticed before.
"Because it's cool. Who doesn't want to throw a flying kick, run up a wall, or pull off a one-inch punch?"
He threw a casual punch in the air, watching the arc of his arm cut through space like it had purpose.
A faint smile tugged at my lips. I turned my head, catching my reflection in the bedside mirror.
And froze.
The face staring back at me… it was me — but not quite.
My features were sharper, more defined. I looked younger, but also somehow… better. Like someone hit a "protagonist filter" on my genetics.
The most striking part?Silver hair. Vivid blue eyes.
I blinked.
"Okay… wow.""I really do look like the main character of some anime."
The silver hair probably came from my dad.The eyes — definitely my mom's.
I leaned closer to the mirror, studying the reflection. It was familiar… yet unfamiliar. Like seeing a memory reimagined.
He smirked at his own reflection.
"Let's play around a little more."
[1 Hour Later]
"So basically," he muttered to himself while pacing around the hospital room, "I can only equip two classes at a time — main class and subclass."
He leaned against the window, stretching idly.
"When equipped, I get their… traits? Abilities? Something like that. It's not just skills — it's like the knowledge and body memory of someone who's trained for years suddenly becomes part of me."
He raised an eyebrow.
"But when I unequip them…"
He brought up his fists and jabbed. Off-balance. Wrong timing. He missed the sharp reflex he had before.
"…it's like I've never thrown a punch in my life. Got it."
Then his eyes narrowed.
"Let's get to the elephant in the room."
He looked at the glowing panel again.
Current Class:
(B) Violinist – Mastery (93%)
"This class… Violinist. Is it here because I played violin all my life? Was the class created because of that — or did I get the class, and start playing violin without even realizing it?"
He rubbed his temples. A familiar ache sat deep in his skull, like something sealed behind a door he couldn't unlock.
"My early childhood… it's fuzzy. I don't remember much from before I was eight. Dad was already in the hospital when I turned nine. He passed away when I was twelve."
He exhaled. Long. Slow.
"Nothing strange stands out. No secret prophecy. No mystic family heirloom. He was just… a man. A tired, sick man who smiled through his pain."
He looked at the class name again.
Violinist- Mastery (93%).
"That's pretty damn high," he murmured. "But what does that even mean? Is this a measure of skills? Am I really that good? Or was I just so obsessed with playing that it got to this point naturally?"
His eyes flicked to the small stat in the corner:
Points Available: 5
"How do I gain points anyway? Is it from leveling up classes? If so… how do I level them up?"
More silence.
The system offered no answer.
"Of course," he muttered with a sigh. "Figures."
He shook his head. "Alright. Let's set aside violinist for now. I need to decide which class to equip for actual use."
He tapped the screen again.
Equip Main Class: Martial Artist
Equip Sub Class: Singer
"Martial Artist for combat, obviously. I don't know what kind of world I'm walking into, so better to be safe."
Then he glanced at Singer.
"And Singer… not like I have a violin in this room anyway. Might as well try singing, right?"
But the moment the thought of violin crossed his mind — a flash.
A bright white stage. Curtains parting.
A boy — him — standing center stage, dressed in a dark vest and tie. The world faded except for the violin resting against his shoulder. The bow touched string.
And then—
Sound.
Wild. Sorrowful. Chaotic. Beautiful.
Music that didn't follow rules — it shattered them. A devil's waltz. Pure emotion.
And then the lights dimmed.
His knees gave out.
And everything went black.
[Back in the Room]
Eishi gasped, grabbing the hospital bed for support.
His face had gone pale. He was shaking. He hadn't even noticed.
"Wh… what was that?" he whispered.
The screen glowed softly, untouched.
That memory — it had just flashed into him without warning. Like a playback from his own soul.
He took a shaky breath.
"Okay… Singer subclass for now," he said, voice wavering.
The moment he clicked the option, he felt it.
[Class Equipped – Martial Artist (Main), Singer (Sub)]
His muscles pulsed, not with pain — but with tension. Readiness.
It was subtle. Not a surge of power. Not some anime aura flaring around him.
It was precision.
Control.
He shifted his weight to one foot — and the world adjusted around him. His balance snapped into place like magnets finding their perfect spot.
The martial artist's instincts were back.
But this time, something else layered under it.
He felt… vocal tension. Not in a bad way — like his throat was warmed up, like his voice knew how to carry itself. His breath control synced. His diaphragm adjusted on its own.
He could sing.
He opened his mouth without thinking.
Just a single hum.
And yet, the tone was clear. Rich. Sharper than he'd ever remembered.
"…No way," he whispered.
Was this what it meant to equip a class?
To become someone — or something — that had already walked that path?
He stood straighter.
A martial artist's spine.
A singer's breath.
"…This is insane."
But it was real.
Very real.
He clenched his fists. "Alright then…"