A new notification flickers in my vision.
[Optional Mechanic: Curse Acceptance]
[Voluntarily accepting a Curse grants additional Gacha pulls.]
[Pulls gained are guaranteed Uncommon or higher rarity.] [Number of pulls depends on Curse severity.]
I almost laugh—well, as much as a baby throat allows. A tiny gurgle escapes instead.
Risk for reward? Hell yes. Playing it safe gets you nowhere in life. You grab every edge, every exploit, or someone else will.
And right now, every Uncommon+ pull is pure gold—way better than whatever diluted garbage I'll get later when the pool widens.
Future me can farm pity pulls if needed. Infant me? I'm stacking the deck while the rates are cracked.
No fear. Curses are just temporary hurdles for a chosen one like me.
"System," I think hard, "hit me with three curses. I'm ready."
[Rolling Three Curses…]
[Results: Two Minor Curses, One Major Curse]
[Four Additional Pulls Granted]
Two for one on the Major? Nice math.
[Curse Acquired: Acrophobia (Minor)]
You experience intense fear and discomfort when looking down from significant heights for more than two seconds. Gamer's Mind suppresses panic but cannot eliminate the visceral unease.
[Curse Acquired: Aquaphobia (Minor)]
You experience intense fear and discomfort when submerged in water for more than two seconds. Gamer's Mind suppresses panic but cannot eliminate the visceral unease.
[Curse Acquired: Gluttony (Major)]
An insatiable hunger gnaws at you constantly—not just for food, but for knowledge, power, fame, pleasure, everything. If denied, irritability escalates into rage. Overindulgence risks self-destructive obsession.
I smirk inside. Heights and water? Annoying, but I'll just avoid tall places and deep pools until I'm big enough to handle them. Gamer's Mind keeps me from freezing up completely—good enough.
The big one… Gluttony.
Yeah, that could bite me in the ass.
Craving food daily is whatever; an adult mind in a kid's body means I'll figure out how to steal or charm meals easy with the gamer system. But the rest? Insatiable drive for power, knowledge, fame, women? That's basically my default setting already.
Worst case, I turn into some mad scientist carving runes into my own skin for more strength. Best case—and most likely—I channel that hunger into grinding harder than anyone else. Ambition on steroids? Sign me the fuck up.
Regret? Nah. Lesser men regret. I profit.
"Now give me my prizes, system."
[Rolling Four Pulls…]
[Results: Uncommon Divinity · Uncommon Artifact · Uncommon Knowledge · Uncommon Trait]
First window opens.
[Divinity Acquired: Odin's Sight (Uncommon)]
Your left eye gains the ability to perceive:
Emotional auras of living beings Flow and structure of magical energy Instant comprehension and reverse-engineering of any observed concept, spell, or magical phenomenon.
Holy shit. Magic sight? Emotion reading? Reverse-engineering anything I look at?
This alone turns me into a walking cheat code once magic shows up. If this world has wizards, I'm going to rob them blind without them ever knowing.
Next.
[Artifact Acquired: Everfull Flagon (Uncommon)]
A small, plain leather pouch that hangs weightlessly at your side (currently invisible and intangible). Pour from it to receive an endless supply of pure water or fresh orange juice—whichever you desire at the moment.
Infinite hydration and vitamin C? Boring on the surface, but with Free from Sustenance I don't even need it to live… which means I can sell or trade the juice later for favors. Or just stay refreshed forever. Practical. I'll take it.
Third.
[Knowledge Imprinted: Master Painter (Adept)]
You possess the skill and intuition of a painter who has dedicated ten years to the craft. Technique, composition, color theory—all ingrained.
Oh hell yes. Every proper womanizer needs an artistic side. I can already picture it—inviting some beautiful girl or rich milf to "sit for a portrait," getting her to strip "for artistic authenticity," sketching her naked while she blushes.
Jack had Rose in Titanic; I'll have a whole gallery. This is going to be delicious.
Last one.
[Trait Acquired: Natural Actor (Adept)]
You possess the skill and instinct of an actor who has dedicated ten years to the stage and screen. Voice control, body language, emotional projection—mastered.
Perfect. I'll play the sweet innocent orphan, the loyal friend, the eager student—whatever mask gets me closest to power.
It's not like I'm in the Harry Potter world but even if that's the case, even Dumbledore himself won't see through me. Lie, manipulate, seduce—all while wearing the perfect smile. Take that, Tom Riddle!
Four pulls, four bangers. The curses barely feel like a price anymore.
The door above me finally creaks open, the old iron hinges groaning in the cold night air.
A woman steps out—mid-forties, maybe early fifties, with tired lines around her eyes and gray streaks in her pinned-up hair.
She's got that worn-but-still-attractive look: full figure wrapped in a thick wool cardigan, hips swaying as she hurries down the stone steps. Definitely been pretty in her day, and time hasn't completely stolen it.
She spots me immediately and gasps, hand flying to her mouth.
"Oh, you poor little thing… left out here in this cold? Who would do such a cruel thing?"
She mutters under her breath as she bends down, voice soft with pity. "Abandoned like rubbish… heartless, absolutely heartless."
Her hands are warm despite the chill as she scoops me up, wrapping me tight in the blanket she brought.
I let my body go limp, playing the helpless infant perfectly—tiny limbs flailing just enough, golden eyes wide and watery. Natural Actor trait already paying dividends.
She carries me inside, the heavy door thudding shut behind us. The orphanage smells of old wood, boiled cabbage, and faint bleach. Dim gas lamps light the narrow hallway.
Another woman appears from a side room—younger, late twenties or early thirties, softer around the edges, with dark hair tied back and a generous chest straining against her simple blouse.
She's got that fresh-faced, motherly vibe, cheeks flushed from whatever chore she was doing.
"Mrs. Cole, another one?" she asks, voice gentle.
Mrs. Cole—the older one—nods grimly. "Found him on the steps, naked as the day he was born. Poor lamb's freezing."
"This world is getting rotten day by day... sigh.. to do such things to such a beautiful child..." The younger woman reaches out without hesitation. "Here, give him to me. I'll warm him up proper."
Mrs. Cole hands me over. The younger woman cradles me close, rocking slightly as she heads toward a small nursery room lit by a single lamp.
"Shh, little love, you're safe now," she murmurs, settling into a worn rocking chair.
Her fingers dance along the buttons of her blouse, popping them open one by one with that effortless grace.
The fabric parts like a curtain, revealing the soft swell of her pale breasts—creamy white, almost porcelain under the dim light, flawless and full. She guides my head down gently, her touch firm but tender, pressing me against her.
Warmth, milk, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat—everything a real baby would need.
Keke~ Come to papa~~!
I don't hesitate. My lips find her nipple instinctively, latching on with a soft, wet seal. It's perfectly pink, a delicate rose flush against the pale mound, already beaded with a drop of milk that glistens invitingly.
I suck steadily, drawing it in—warm, so incredibly warm, like fresh cream straight from the source, sweet and rich as it floods my mouth.
I swallow greedily but keep my expression serene, eyes half-closed in feigned innocent bliss, like this is the most natural thing in the world.
She strokes my hair with slow, soothing fingers, humming a soft lullaby under her breath, the melody vibrating through her chest and into me.
For now, I let the warmth sink in.
The game's just getting started.