Chapter 1 – Affection: -59
The first thing I noticed after opening my eyes was an unfamiliar ceiling.
Too high.
Too clean.
Too expensive.
The second thing I noticed was the number floating above the woman standing beside my bed.
-59
It hovered there calmly, as if it had always belonged in this world.
I blinked.
The number didn’t disappear.
“…You’re awake,” the woman said.
Her voice carried no warmth. No concern.
Only mild irritation—like something she expected to stay broken had inconveniently started working again.
Our eyes met.
Cold.
Measuring.
The number remained.
-59
I didn’t know what it meant yet.
But I knew that expression.
I had seen it many times before.
Not here.
But in an orphanage that taught children one rule early:
Survive—or die.
---
Pain stabbed behind my eyes as countless memories that weren’t mine flooded in.
A name.
Louis Casper.
A noble house—not too powerful, not too weak.
The kind that looked impressive from the outside
Third son.
Minor character.
A disposable noble.
The woman sighed softly and turned away.
“Don’t cause any more trouble, Louis,” she said. “You’ll be entering the Erynthia Academy soon.”
She didn’t wait for a response.
The door closed.
Silence returned.
---
I slowly sat up.
Silk sheets slid down my arms. The body felt young. Fragile.
A mirror stood nearby.
I walked to it.
A boy of about fifteen stared back at me. Clean skin. Proper posture.
A face ugly enough to avoid pity, yet plain enough to be forgotten.
Perfectly forgettable.
Above my head—
Nothing.
Good.
At least I didn’t hate myself.
Yet.
I exhaled slowly.
“So,” I muttered, “reincarnation.”
---
This was a novel world.
One I recognized instantly.
Not because I was an otaku.
Not because I loved books.
Because I had been forced to read.
Back when nobles visited the orphanage, the sisters always smiled wider.
Healthy children were lined up front.
Strong children showed off.
Pretty children were praised.
And children like me?
We read.
Nobles liked “smart” orphans.
If they liked us, donations continued.
Blankets arrived.
Food lasted longer.
Strong kids took what they wanted anyway.
If they were cold, they took your blanket.
If they were hungry, they took your food.
Beautiful kids were protected by the sisters.
“They’re too cute to suffer,” they said.
Thanks to fate—
I was none of those things.
Too weak to fight.
Too plain to be loved.
A weak, below-average-looking kid.
The orphanage didn’t even have enough beds.
Only enough to satisfy noble visits.
A VIP facility—for the strong and the cute.
So I memorized stories.
So I survived.
And yet… I had died once pathetically
I remembered it vividly—the orphanage fire. Smoke curled around the hallways like gray snakes, choking every breath. Children screamed, their tiny hands reaching for me as the flames spread.
I wasn’t a hero. I wasn’t selfless. Survival had always been my first instinct. Yet, without thinking, I ran toward the smoke, toward them.
I grabbed the nearest child, yanking them from the burning room, ignoring the heat searing my skin. Another child was trapped, eyes wide with fear. I dove again. The floor creaked. Flames licked the walls. I could barely breathe.
And then the ceiling collapsed. My world went black.
I never understood why I acted that way. Maybe instinct. Maybe stupidity. Maybe… something deeper.
I should have run outside
Idiot idiot idiot
Whatever it was, I died that day. But now I was here. I opened my eyes in a new body. And this time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake.
---
That was why I remembered this novel.
<<The hero of Erynthia Academy>>
And that was why my stomach sank when the memories finished settling.
Louis Casper.
I knew his fate.
---
The Academy Attack Arc.
A secret organization assaults the school.
Enemies ranked neatly like a game:
From S~D
The protagonist shines.
Teachers show their power.
Students scream.
And Louis Casper?
He opens his mouth instead of hiding and shouts—
“Stand back! I am a noble! I will protect everyone—unlike commoners hiding behind others!”
I covered my face.
“…Idiot.”
The protagonist gets attacked by a D-rank.
He casually one-shots it.
The problem was—
The D-rank enemy was enormous.
I mean really fat
Fully armored.
Physics did the rest.
The corpse flew straight toward a certain idiot’s face.
Louis Casper died.
Crushed.
Not by malice.
Not by strategy.
By weight.
---
I stared at the wall for a long moment.
Then muttered, “That’s the stupidest death I’ve ever read.”
And I’d read a lot.
I realized something.
Louis Casper and I… we weren’t so different. Both weak. Both unremarkable. Both destined to die pathetically, just before anything meaningful could happen. I had become barbecue at the orphanage, choking on smoke and fear, while he would be crushed by a flying corpse—his final act as useless as the last.
And yet, we survived in memory only. Both of us were almost invisible, ignored by the world, hated by everyone who mattered. The only difference? Fate had been cruel enough to let me come back, to take over his life and his body.
It wasn’t arrogance I felt. It was recognition—a cold understanding. Weakness didn’t have to mean failure anymore. This time… I would live. I would survive.
A familiar thought crossed my mind.
Something every reincarnated protagonist thinks.
I looked around the room.
Took a breath.
And said it.
“…System?”
---
DING!
A translucent blue screen exploded into view.
I froze.
My heart jumped.
“Oh—!”
For half a second, I was genuinely thrilled.
Then I read it.
---
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Louis Casper
Strength: 5
→ A direct hit from a sneezing protagonist may cause fractures.
Agility: 6
→ Can jog. Briefly.
Endurance: 4
→ Has fainted after climbing stairs.
Charisma: 3
→ Dog feces has better social appeal.
dogs bark at him,
Mana: 4
→ Enough to create a small breeze or barely summon a drop of water from a pinky.
Luck: -12
→ Explains everything.
---
I stared.
Silently.
Then whispered, “…Wow.”
This wasn’t a system.
This was an insult.
Before I could process my grief, the screen flickered.
The stats vanished.
Another panel appeared.
---
[AFFECTION INDEX SYSTEM – DISPOSITION INDEX]
(Original Ability of Louis Casper)
Description:
Displays the emotional disposition of others toward the host.
Range:
+100 → Absolute Favor (would do anything for you)
-100 → Extreme Hostility (wants you erased)
Restriction:
Once checked, re-evaluation is unavailable during cooldown.
Cooldown:
7 days per individual.
---
My breath caught.
The numbers.
That woman earlier.
-59
This was Louis Casper’s original ability
This wasn’t a new power.
This wasn’t a reward.
This was Louis Casper’s original ability.
He had grown up seeing it.
Every day.
Family.
Servants.
Teachers.
Classmates.
All numbers.
All negative.
---
So that was it.
Louis wasn’t arrogant because he was blind.
He was arrogant because he knew he was hated anyway.
If everyone despised him, pretending to be proud was easier than begging to be accepted.
“…You lived like this,” I murmured.
The novel never mentioned it.
Because the novel never cared.
Still Idiot
--
My thoughts drifted to the protagonist.
The novel’s beloved main character.
Talented.
Loved.
Protected.
Always arriving at the perfect moment.
Always surviving without logic.
I clenched my jaw.
“I hate him.”
Not jealousy.
Not envy.
Pure rejection.
He fought when he should’ve run.
He stood tall because the world bent for him.
He survived not because he was careful—
But because the story demanded it.
“Survival isn’t bravery,” I whispered.
“It’s judgment.”
And he had none.
Only plot armor.
---
I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
I would attend the academy.
I would walk into the story.
But I wouldn’t shout.
I wouldn’t stand in front.
And when bodies started flying—
I would already be gone.
“I won’t be a paper sheet under a chubby corpse,” I said quietly.
“This time… I’ll survive properly
And I enter the academy. And this time… the world won’t crush me.”
First let's check my body condition
I took of clothes then lifted an arm, testing its weight.
Feels like it might snap off. My legs… wobble, but can at least carry me a few steps without collapsing or so I hoped.
I poked my stomach—soft, flabby, decidedly unimpressive and making a suspicious squelching sound.
Head tilts slightly. Neck fragile. Posture okay, but just barely. Hands… too small, nails uneven like uncooked spaghetti
My reflection stared back with the same blank expression: forgettable, weak, and utterly unremarkable.
Perfectly suited to die in a fire, or be flattened by a flying D-rank.
If it is earth i don't need an exray to check bone fractures I sighed.
Maybe the system would give me a better body
or at least a warning before something else broke.
God give me a break
