I was two when "playing" in the sun-drenched dirt beside our garden. My mother had laid out a cloth nearby, kneading dough while humming softly, her long braid catching the breeze. My father was off in the woods that day, searching for good timber. I was left to my own little world wooden toy horse at my side, and a stick in hand.
That's when I saw them.
A trail of ants, black and tireless, marching from a cracked rock toward a bit of fallen bread crust. At least a dozen. Maybe more.
For a normal toddler, this might have been an amusing distraction. But I… I saw an opportunity.
"If this really is the New World... then there's gotta be a system."
I crouched—awkwardly at first. My legs were still pudgy and unsteady, but I managed. My stick hovered above the first ant.
Smack.
I crushed it.
What the...?
The ant was level 1 i think, nothing in the new world can be lower than level 1 and i know i am level 1, beacuse i am a toddler, and farms are form level 3 to level 4 form the overlord novels i seen, or maybe the ants did not stand a chance against me, and if that was true i would have got an least 1 exp no matter the power gap.
That thought struck me like a divine revelation.
I struck another ant.
Smack.
Again, nothing happened. Less shocking this time.
I did it again.
Again.
Again.
Ten ants.
And then—it happened.
A surge of something powerful welled up from within me. Not enough to knock me over, but enough that I gasped. My skin prickled, my fingers twitched, and I could swear for a moment… I could hear my own heartbeat like a war drum.
"I leveled up, and i sure of it"
I was giddy. Drunk with it. I clapped my chubby hands and let out a laugh genuine, thrilled.
My mother looked over from her dough.
"What are you giggling about, little Rod?" she asked, smiling.
She had no idea. To her, I was just a happy toddler laughing at ants. She didn't notice the calculation in my eyes, the intent in every little movement. I wasn't playing.
I was grinding.
It was an Ant Massacre, 1 spent the next three hours obsessed, i tracked ants with the focus of a veteran hunter. I crushed them with sticks, pebbles, even my fingers at times (though the crunch was unsettling). Each kill brought that same tingle. But I noticed something.
After the 100th ant, the "power surge" grew weaker.
The jump from Level 2 to Level 3 was smaller, like drinking warm tea after having swallowed lightning the first time.
I kept count.
100 ants = Level 3.
A crude but working system:
Level 1 → 2 = 10 XP
Level 2 → 3 = 100 XP
My mind raced with possibilities. Was this just imagination? Hallucination? But no… I felt it. I knew I was becoming something more. Something beyond human.
By sundown, I was covered in dirt. My hands were filthy, my shirt stained, and I reeked of sun, sweat, and crushed insect, when my father returned and saw me crouched in the garden, poking the ground like a tiny madman, he let out a long laugh.
"Mira! Our boy's at war with ants !"
"Again?" she shouted back from inside, exasperated. "Ren, what did I say about playing in the dirt like a wild pig?"
He scooped me up, dirt and all, lifting me into the air with a grin on his face.
"You're going to scare the village daughters acting like that. They may think you're some wild druid's child."
I just looked up at him. I couldn't speak well yet, but I stared straight into his eyes and thought:
'You have no idea, Father. I'm going to become a god in this world.'
He just chuckled and wiped mud off my cheek.
"One day you'll swing an axe like me. But for now, leave the ants alone, eh?"
That Night, i didn't sleep right away. I lay in my little straw bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. My hands ached a bit, but I didn't care.
I felt different.
Stronger.
Faster.
And… just a little bit smarter.
"The New World has rules, i know them" I whispered to myself.