….
Hello - it's me.
I won't waste time with introductions, so let's dive straight into one of my most random thoughts.
I don't know how many ladies will connect with what I am about to say, but I am certain that every dude, who was once a boy and has since grown into adulthood, will understand.
And if you don't?
Then, with a heavy heart, I have to say this: you are not one of us.
Don't bother calling yourself part of the tribe.
So. Let's cut to the chase.
Where do I even begin?
Every man likes to imagine himself as the Hero.
The ones who continued will probably nod along, so I will continue under the assumption that you do too.
Think back, back to those dull math classes where you slouched in your seat, barely clinging to consciousness.
Bored out of your skull, your eyes wandered upward.
And there it was.
That wobbly ceiling fan, spinning above, dutifully doing its job… unlike you.
And your brain? It went wild.
What if it snapped?
Instantly, the scene played out: the fan breaking loose, blades slicing through the air like a tornado, crashing down toward the desks.
And in that moment, you rehearsed your grand performance: your Oscar-worthy save.
You leapt from your chair, diving over a classmate, maybe even the girl you secretly crushed on, pulling her out of harm's way in one dramatic hug.
Just like–
Jackie Chan.
Why Jackie? Don't ask.
It just is. Always has been, and always will be.
But here is the twist I never expected.
It actually happened to me.
Only this time, I wasn't the Hero.
And the one who was?
He screwed up.
Spectacularly.
Colossal, world-class screw-up.
How do I know? Because if he had stepped in, I wouldn't be lying here, flirting with death like it's an awkward blind date I never asked for.
What did I even do to deserve this?
I mean–
I am a bad guy.
Well, what do you expect from an orphan who grew up without any ounce of parenting in this shitty ass world?
Anyway, what I am saying is - I am a bad guy.
I have beaten people up for looking at me wrong.
For bumping into me and not saying sorry.
For talking too loud when I am trying to think.
I don't wait for explanations - I just swing first, deal with the guilt later.
I cheated my way into university using fake documents.
Lied on every form, forged signatures like it was nothing.
Never felt bad about it, not even for a second.
I steal food from the cafeteria when I am broke, take money from guys who owe me favors.
And sometimes, just for the thrill of it, I walk into fights that aren't even mine.
I have scared people, made them cry, and I didn't care.
I like the heat of a fight, the rush of control, the silence that follows after you have made someone too afraid to speak.
I am the kind of guy your parents warn you about. The kind of guy who ruins things just because he can.
SO!!
Why am I dying so early?
Aren't bad people supposed to die late into their old age?
Obviously a piece of shit like me definitely deserves to live longer.
But—
I don't know anymore…
…also is this what dying is supposed to feel like?
My vision is dimming, my thoughts are tripping over themselves, my mouth is doing that busted-radio thing.
Everything is slow, like the world's buffering on bad Wi-Fi.
"Ugh. Am I…losing con…sciousn…ess?"
I try to ask, but the words keep falling apart.
And what about my stupid dream of a world tour?
Guh… guess th…is is… the en…d o…f me…
…..
[Third Person View]
…..
The same college student, certain he had slipped into eternal darkness for good, suddenly felt weight pressing against his body again.
His eyelids twitched, then dragged themselves open.
A steady, pounding ache hammered at his skull as he arched his stiff back against something absurdly soft.
The bed was too soft, like it wanted to swallow him whole. Light stabbed his eyes, forcing him to squint until the blur of shapes hardened into a room.
"…What the hell?" His voice came out as a dry rasp.
"I am alive?" He barked a laugh, half-relief, half-disbelief.
"Of course I am, no way I would kick the bucket now. I haven't even had the chance to slap that bitch yet."
He tried to sit up, but the effort slammed him with nausea.
His stomach twisted violently, and he froze in place, clutching at the sheets, breathing hard until the dizziness eased.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze.
The room was wrong.
All wrong.
Ornate paintings lined the walls, colors rich and shimmering under warm golden light. Furniture, mahogany, polished so perfectly it reflected the glow, stood in perfect arrangement, like the set of some sci-fi drama.
"…What is this?" He muttered, eyes darting–
"Don't tell me that bastard kidnapped me 'cause of the debt. Shit, did they cut me open already? Wait - no… I can see, so my eyes are fine. Do I still have my kidneys? My liver? Damn it, I better not be missing anything important."
The words fell into the silence and died. For a beat, the only sound was his breathing - shallow, ragged.
Then the memory hit him like a freight train: the fan snapping free, the world going black.
He gripped the sheets until his knuckles burned. "Didn't that damn fan… crush my skull? But, thank God I am still breathing."
Rage flashed through him. "I swear, if I get the chance, I will kill the idiot who bolted that fan to the ceiling, and that wannabe, day-dreaming hero who was supposed to save the day but didn't—"
A soft chime cut off his cursing.
◤-----------------------◥
[Ding!]
[....System Initiating….]
◣-----------------------◢
"Eh?"
His head jerked up.
"…what on Earth…?"
A translucent panel flickered into existence before him, lines of text hovering in the air.
He reached for it, but his fingers sliced straight through, like mist.
"...is this a System?"
"...." Silence.
"What… What the hell just happened? Did someone implant a chip in me during the operation?"
Still nothing.
◤-----------------------◥
[Ding! System Installation Complete]
◣-----------------------◢
He stared blankly. "…."
◤-----------------------◥
[New Identity Recognised]
[Human: Yoo Jin-Ho]
[Status: Awakened(:just now)]
◣-----------------------◢
"New identity?" the words tumbled out, jagged and incredulous. "You are telling me… I am not me anymore? I am… someone else?"
Another system window flickered open in front of him, but he ignored it. He swung his legs off the bed, nearly tripping on the plush carpet, and staggered toward the mirror.
His reflection hit him like a punch.
The face staring back wasn't quite his. Subtle differences in the jawline, sharper features, brighter eyes… and why the hell was his hair yellow?
"This is insane… Plastic surgery? Or some kind of witchcraft? At least… I have got to admit, I look better. A little more handsome, I guess… thought he might need a little make over to fit my style."
Questions swirled like a storm in his head, but he couldn't stop the system windows from popping up again, blinking insistently.
For now, he decided to deal with it later - first, he had to process what the hell had just happened to him.
◤-----------------------◥
[Ding! You have a Letter in his Inventory]
[Open Now] / [Later]
◣-----------------------◢
He swallowed. "…open."
◤-----------------------◥
Greetings, Pal.
First of all, congratulations! …Or should I say, my condolences?
You did, in fact, die.
To a ceiling fan at that, a really comical way to go.
Not my finest work in the 'grand exits' department, but hey - you have always wanted drama, right?
Now, here is the twist of fate: you have been randomly, but also very deliberately, because I am awesome, selected as a Multiverser of this Generation, a rare slot with exclusive offer, and no refunds.
I am gifting you a System.
Think of it as… training wheels for the absurd adventures ahead.
Of course, you don't get all the shiny toys at once, you will have to earn them.
Strength, growth, struggle… yada yada.
You know the drill.
The [System] will guide you, do whatever you like: save the world, ruin it, collect talismans, or just sleep in a fancy bed all day, totally your choice.
That is all. You are welcomed.
Good luck, Hero. Don't screw it up this time.
—The One Who Watches Ceiling Fan Fall
◣-----------------------◢
"So… I really died…?
"What am I even now? I died… but I am still breathing? Am I… just some puppet being pulled around by… code?"
He ran a hand through his hair, tension coiling in his shoulders.
"…and what the hell does that 'God' dude mean by 'Goodbye'?
"That's it? That's all I get?"
His laugh cracked, sharp and bitter, teetering between outrage and absurdity.
His mind spun, thoughts colliding like debris in a storm. It took nearly ten minutes for him to ground himself, or at least to convince himself he had.
Or maybe he hadn't.
Either way, he exhaled and muttered, voice steadier this time–
"Status display."
◤---•JACKIE⬢CHAN ADVENTURES SYSTEM•---◥
「BIO:」
-> [Name: Yoo Jin-Ho Race: Human| Status: Awakened Age: 16]
「Titles:」
-> [Reincarnator (Epic Rank)
-> [Youngest of the Yoo Family (Unrank)
-> [☒☒☒☒☒☒] (Unclassified)
「Power Level:」
-> [Tier 9-C: SuperHuman(:Street Level)]
「Class:」
-> [Sorcerer]
「Skills:」
-> [Talisman Arts: Focused on creating and empowering Magical Talismans]
•••
「INVENTRY:」
-> [Beginners Pack(Gift)]
◣-----------------------------------------◢
'…Yoo Jin-Ho…'
'…that's… me now.'
The truth hit like a hammer to the chest, as he once again looked at his face in the mirror:
Caramel-colored hair, soft and glossy.
Grey eyes, unfamiliar yet piercing.
A boyish face, unmarked by hardship, and a thin, almost fragile build.
Skin too pale and flawless - like porcelain.
?!!Immediately, alien memories trickled in, fragments of the current life of this body. And yet… no blinding pain, or tearing apart his mind.
The name surfaced naturally, as if it had always belonged to him.
"…Yoo Jin-Ho."
Yet, this time it wasn't because the System displayed it.
No. This time, it was recognition from the memories he just gained.
Yoo Jin-Ho.
The pampered youngest brat of the Yoo family, from [Solo Leveling].
Or, depending on how you look at it, the most loyal man at Sung Jin-Woo's side, his trusted right hand.
"This… isn't some elaborate prank, is it? Or… maybe a dream? A hallucination, something twisted, just screwing with my head… right?"
Before the thought could even settle, a soft chime echoed, not from the room, but inside his skull, like a church bell tolling from deep within his bones.
◤-----------------------◥
[Ding! You have a 'Gift' in the Inventory]
[Open Now] / [Later]
◣-----------------------◢
"…sigh, really? Could you at least read the room, dude?" He muttered under his breath.
Still, curiosity, or stubbornness - won out. "…Fine. Open."
◤-----------------------◥
Ⓘ [Ding–! New Skill - "[Rooster]" Talisman Acquired!]
-> Talisman Powers: Levitation. Telekinesis
•---------•
Ⓘ [Ding–! New Skill "[Jackie Chan Martial Arts: Level 4]" Acquired!]
-> Ability: A masterful close-quarters combat style blending innovative stunts, acrobatic fighting, and adaptive weapon use based on 'Kung Fu'.
-> This style thrives on agility, speed, and creativity, turning any nearby object into a weapon and turning the battlefield into an improvised stage.
•---------•
Ⓘ [Ding! New Artifact "[Pan'ku Locket]" Acquired!]
-> Artifact Function: A Magical Puzzle Box, which allows You to Travel Across Dimensions, and Portals.
•---------•
Ⓘ [Ding–! New Title "[Protagonist Magnet]" Acquired!
-> Title Effects: Causes any true protagonist who comes near to feel a subconscious pull of trust, admiration, or favor toward the ability's bearer.
-> Note: It has opposite effects when come across 'antagonist'
◣-----------------------◢
"Now, these are some useful gifts I say…"
Jin-Ho's switch was completely shifted as he excitedly assessed each one.
He went with the first one–
◤-----------------------◥
Ⓘ Talisman:
-> The Talismans are a legendary set of twelve magical charms originating from the Chinese Zodiac.
-> Twelve exist in total, each possesses its own magic that grants a different power (Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Sheep, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, Pig)
◣-----------------------◢
"Hmm, so there are more than 'Rooster Talisman' I just got?"
Jin-Ho clicked on the [Rooster Talisman], popping up a new window–
◤-----------------------◥
[Ding–!
[Do You wish to equip [Rooster Talisman]?]
[Equip Now / Later]
Ⓘ Note: Once 'Equipped' it cannont be undone!
◣-----------------------◢
Reading the note, Jin-Ho contemplated.
"Fuck it! Equip."
The moment he said it, heat scorched his right hand.
He hissed, jerking his sleeve up.
Etched into his skin, faint swirling lines formed the mark of a rooster - subtle, delicate, like a tattoo that only revealed itself under the right light.
'Levitation. Telekinesis…' He flexed his fingers, the glow fading. 'How strong could it be?'
Knock–!
The sharp sound snapped him from his thoughts.
"Youngest Master Jin-Ho?" A formal voice. "Breakfast is ready, the family awaits downstairs."
His stomach did a flip. Downstairs? Wait—today?
He lunged for his phone. One glance at the date, and his heart sank.
'Crap. Second Sunday of the month.'
According to his inherited memories, that meant the Yoo family's monthly breakfast gathering.
Attendance was mandatory.
Another knock followed after his long silence, firmer this time.
"Knock… Youngest Master?"
"Damn it! I am coming - give me a sec!" Jin-Ho yelled.
The woman outside stiffened at the sudden snap.
He bolted to the bathroom, splashing icy water on his face until his reflection looked halfway human.
Then he tore through the closet, grabbing something casual yet undeniably high-class: a crisp light-blue shirt, dark jeans perfectly clean, and soft leather loafers that whispered pedigree.
Time to face the breakfast battlefield.
….
.
[To be continued…]
Note: If you are interested in learning about more [Talismans] check out the Auxiliary Chapter.
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
Author Note:
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