This was a somewhat shabby, dim, and cramped room. Judging by the patchy flakes peeling from the walls, the last time it had been repaired must have been well over a decade ago.
The four old wooden beds and the small table beside them were just as worn. Their surfaces had been polished smooth by years of use—anyone who glanced at them would immediately feel the weight of time that had passed.
This was a room on the second floor of St. Mary's Orphanage, located in London's Camden district.
St. Mary's Orphanage had been around for nearly two hundred years.
From its name alone, it was obvious that it had originally been an orphanage run by the church.
But these days, church business wasn't exactly thriving, and that meant the orphanage's finances were painfully tight.
After taking in his surroundings, Ted glanced down at his own small, pale hands and confirmed the truth.
He had transmigrated.
And not just physically—his soul had crossed over.
The current date was June 30, 1991. His location was a London orphanage, and he himself was an orphan, eleven years old this year.
One thing was certain: he possessed a cheat.
Inside his mind seemed to float a ball of golden light. Whenever he focused his attention on it, information surfaced—
System starting…
His current name was Ted Epiphany.
The name Ted carried the meaning of a supreme gift.
Epiphany referred both to the Christian feast day and to sudden enlightenment.
The matron of the orphanage had given him this name for a particular reason.
On the night of January 6th—Epiphany Day—she had dreamed that someone was speaking to her.
She couldn't remember exactly what had been said, but when she woke up and opened the door, she found a newborn baby wrapped in swaddling clothes lying at the entrance of the orphanage.
Epiphany—also called the Feast of the Manifestation—comes from the Greek word epiphaneia, meaning "appearance" or "revelation." It refers to the belief that Jesus revealed his divine nature to the world on three occasions. Within Christianity, the day holds significant importance.
So the matron took it as a good omen, adopted the child, and named him Ted Epiphany.
Roughly speaking, the name meant "the sacred gift of Epiphany."
…
"Hahaha… I've really transmigrated. What a wonderful thing."
Ted leaned back against the wall at the head of the bed, his hands clasped behind his head as he laughed at himself with amusement.
St. Mary's Orphanage wasn't doing well financially.
To put it bluntly, it wasn't far from closing down.
Religion had been in decline for a long time. Ever since the Declaration of the Rights of Man in 1789, religion had gradually become secularized.
Over two hundred years later, churches still existed everywhere, but they were nothing like they used to be.
Give it another decade or two, and if a priest wanted to make the news, it would probably involve being caught with a little boy.
So while the children at the orphanage didn't exactly starve, the idea of a balanced diet was basically a joke.
Ted reached over and touched his ribs. They were painfully easy to feel beneath his skin.
He wasn't about to complain—after all, how could anyone complain about getting a second chance at life?
Still, the situation needed improvement.
Malnutrition would stunt his growth.
He needed to find a way to make some money. Not a fortune—just enough to improve the food situation.
"Tsk… this won't be easy."
Ted spent several minutes thinking it over and quickly realized the situation was grim.
With his current body, he couldn't do heavy work.
And no one was hiring child laborers these days.
He couldn't exactly go begging, could he?
"Sigh… there's nothing I can use. No resources at all… Wait… resources?"
Suddenly, something occurred to him.
He turned his head toward the corner of the room.
There were some small odds and ends there, along with a few personal belongings—and an old guitar with most of its paint worn away.
That guitar was practically a veteran of the orphanage.
About seven or eight years ago, a kind couple had donated it to one of the orphans.
Before that boy was adopted, he had passed it down to a younger orphan.
Then when that child was adopted, the guitar went to Ted's roommate.
But one by one, Ted's roommates were adopted as well, and in the end the guitar was left behind with him.
A guitar passed down through six or seven owners—it was practically an heirloom of the orphanage.
The small room had four beds, yet all three of Ted's roommates had been adopted.
Only he remained.
Ted picked up a small round mirror and examined himself.
The boy had pale skin, delicate features, and bright eyes that shone like polished ink. All things considered, he was quite an adorable child.
Wait a minute…
Oh.
He understood now.
Black hair. Black eyes. Yellow-toned skin.
Asian.
More specifically, of Chinese descent.
To Ted's eyes, the difference between Koreans, Japanese, Southeast Asians, and people from China was fairly obvious.
"Well, there goes any hope of getting adopted," Ted muttered. "Guess I'll just have to rely on myself and start my own little business."
As children grew older, the chances of being adopted only decreased.
Ted picked up the guitar and strummed the strings.
The sound was… acceptable.
After tuning it slightly, he tried playing a few notes.
Truth be told, the old guitar was still a bit large for his eleven-year-old body. He wasn't much taller than it.
But having something was better than nothing.
Busking on the street was still better than begging.
…
The next day, the mysterious golden cheat still showed no new changes.
Ted found an old city map and, drawing on his limited experience going outside, began considering where he might perform.
Too far was out of the question. His small body couldn't walk very far.
Safety came first. The last thing he wanted was to go out looking to improve his meals and end up getting kidnapped instead.
There also needed to be a steady flow of people—preferably somewhere relaxed. Places with very few people, or areas where everyone was rushing past on errands, wouldn't work.
Fortunately, Camden was home to a famous Camden Market.
He could find a quiet spot along the edge and play guitar while singing.
Hopefully the gentlemen and ladies of London would be kind-hearted.
Just… not too kind-hearted. No one likes being reminded of poverty.
It took twenty minutes to convince the matron. After all, it was close by—a ten-minute walk, and the area was reasonably safe.
Given the current state of the orphanage, the fact that Ted wanted to help contribute would only make her feel touched.
On the first day, the matron accompanied him.
Ted played and sang for more than three hours before his voice finally gave out.
His earnings came to £4.35.
At the time, that was roughly enough for two or three meals at KFC.
After all, an eleven-year-old boy singing and playing guitar on the street was bound to attract attention.
Thanks to memories from his previous life, Ted was fairly good at both singing and playing. Children's voices were naturally clear and pleasant.
And he was quite familiar with many classic European and American songs.
Several kind ladies and women offered him small donations.
Praise them all—may they each give birth to twins!
On the way back, Ted and the matron bought a large pile of cheap fruits and vegetables.
The matron was overjoyed.
"Little Ted… I never expected this, truly I didn't. Now I can feel much more at ease."
She had never known Ted possessed such a talent. At the very least, when he eventually left the orphanage in a few years, he would have a skill to make a living.
The matron and the other four or five caretakers had to look after dozens of children ranging from toddlers to teenagers.
Even if they paid special attention to Ted, the most they could ensure was that he had enough to eat and wasn't bullied.
As for whether she knew he could sing and play guitar?
All she knew was that Ted liked to fiddle with the old guitar.
Who he had learned from—and when—she had no idea. And frankly, it didn't matter.
Several days passed, and Ted grew more and more accustomed to his routine.
The matron no longer needed to accompany him every day.
During this time, Ted also managed to find some old newspapers and magazines, using them to check the general situation of the world.
Good.
He hadn't noticed any historical changes.
The timelines of World War I and World War II, along with other major events, were exactly the same.
In other words, he had been reborn in London with a cheat system that seemed permanently stuck restarting—its boot-up speed apparently slower than 100% of users nationwide.
Even without that cheat, his knowledge of the future meant he couldn't possibly fail.
Companies like Apple, Microsoft, Amazon, and Tesla…
The future looked bright!
"Haha! I'll become a billionaire one day—lying on piles of cash and enjoying financial freedom!"
Ted picked up another old newspaper from the previous year and continued browsing.
There wasn't much useful information, but a small corner article on page four caught his eye.
It described an urban legend.
Apparently a group of drunken men had claimed to see a creature in the countryside outside the city—a half-man, half-goat monster with horns on its head.
See?
Even major newspapers needed sales.
They might as well say there were succubi wandering around outside London. That would definitely boost circulation.
The headlines could read:
"Shocking! A stunning monster discovered outside London!"
"Middle-aged man wakes up with weak legs after a night of drinking—why?"
"Warning! Men with weak kidneys should avoid the countryside!"
Instant bestseller.
Over the next several days, Ted's earnings remained steady.
Most of the money went toward buying food for the orphanage, while he kept a small amount as pocket money.
Then on July 7th, Ted returned from the market.
He had barely stepped into his room and hadn't even set down the guitar on his back when he suddenly heard someone knocking on the window.
Ted froze.
"I'm on the second floor!"
Looking closer, he saw an owl outside the window.
It had an envelope clamped in its beak and was peering curiously at him.
Ted took a deep breath and carefully opened the window.
The owl hopped inside and dropped the letter onto the windowsill.
Ted cautiously reached out. When the owl made no move to bite him, he picked up the letter.
The envelope was made of thick parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink:
Mr. Ted EpiphanySt. Mary's OrphanageCamden, London
There was no stamp.
Turning the envelope over, he saw a red wax seal stamped with a crest: a shield bearing the capital letter H, surrounded by a lion, eagle, badger, and snake.
Ted stared at the letter in his hand.
At that moment, he realized something.
His dream of becoming a billionaire might have just been shattered.
But that was fine.
Because his dream of becoming a wizard had just arrived.