Ryosuke Tanaka's last memory was the screech of tires and blinding headlights. One second he's cursing late traffic, the next—nothing. Blackness. Then pain, sharp and disorienting, like waking from the worst hangover ever.
He cracked his eyes open, expecting a hospital bed or at least asphalt. Instead, rough wooden beams stared back at him from above. His body felt... wrong. Small. Weak. Like he'd shrunk back to grade school or something. Heart hammering, he tried to sit up, but tiny arms barely pushed the blanket off.
"What the hell?" he muttered, voice coming out high-pitched and reedy. Panic clawed up his throat.
A woman's face swam into view—soft features, brown hair tied in a bun, worry lines etched deep. "Kaito! Oh thank the spirits, you're awake. You gave us such a fright with that fever."
Kaito? Who the fuck is Kaito? He blinked, brain scrambling. This wasn't English. Some melodic language, but he understood it perfect. And her face... mom? No, not *his* mom. This lady looked 30s, medieval peasant vibe—apron dusted with herbs.
Before he could process, a man leaned in, callused hands gentle on his shoulder. "Easy, son. The healer's herbs did their work. Rest now."
Dad? The room spun. Straw mattress, clay jug on a shelf, window showing thatched roofs and dirt streets. Fantasy village shit. *Reincarnated? Like those webnovels? No way...*
Then it hit. A sharp chime in his head, like a phone notification but inside his skull. Blue text materialized in his vision, crisp as VR:
**[Harem Nexus System Activated.]**
**[Host: Kaito (Mana-Less). Age: 8. Status: Observation Phase.]**
**[Bond Assimilation Online. Form connections to forge power. Depth determines class.]**
Kaito's jaw dropped. He clamped it shut as "Mom" dabbed his forehead with a cool cloth. *System? Harem? What kinda isekai bullshit is this?*
The interface hovered, ignoring his freakout:
**[Tutorial: Mana-less hosts absorb elemental powers via intimate bonds with compatible females.]**
**[Bond Depth → Power Class: Lust (F), Affection (D), Love (B/S), Soulmate (SS).]**
**[Scan Environment... No candidates in range. Expand territory.]**
Intimate bonds. His kid brain short-circuited. *Sex? For superpowers? In this body?* He was eight! Puberty was years away. But the system didn't care— it pulsed expectantly.
Little sister—Mina, he somehow knew—poked her head in, big eyes shining. "Big bro okay? Can I bring stew?"
"Yeah," he croaked, forcing a smile while his mind raced. Observation phase. Fine. He'd watch. Learn. This world sucked for mana-less trash like him. Mages probably ran everything, guilds, rifts, the works. His family seemed okay—middle-class comfort, no starving—but he saw the fences around mage districts from the window. Shiny towers. Power.
No way he'd rot here. Truck-kun gave him a redo. This Harem Nexus whatever-it-was? His ticket up.
As Mom bustled out for broth, Kaito stared at the ceiling. First, figure out the rules. Then... bonds. A grin tugged his lips despite the kid face. Game on.
Days blurred into weeks. Ryosuke—no, he was Kaito now, might as well own it—kept his head down, playing the recovering kid while his Earth mind spun like a hard drive. The system stayed quiet after that first ping, just a faint blue tab in the corner of his vision he could dismiss with a thought. Observation phase, it called this. Smart. No point rushing when he didn't even know the rules.
His family was... nice. Solid. Dad, Toren, was built like a tank from years hammering wood into furniture and cart repairs. Broad shoulders, callused hands that could crush walnuts, but his laugh boomed warm over dinner. "Guild mages order fancy chairs, pay in silver," he'd say, ruffling Kaito's hair. "We eat because we work smart, not magic."
Mom, Lira, balanced him out—sharp eyes missing nothing, fingers stained green from grinding herbs. She'd bundle salves for villagers, chat with neighbors about rift sightings up north. "Magic's flashy, love," she'd tell Kaito when he stared out windows. "But roots keep you alive." Mina, his five-year-old shadow, trailed him everywhere, chattering about butterflies and stealing his bread crusts.
House was cozy: two stories of sturdy oak, kitchen smelling of stew and fresh loaves. No luxuries, but no holes in the roof either. Upstairs loft for kids, parents below. Stable life, like Toren said. But Kaito caught the edges—the extra coin jar for "mage tithes," whispers about Awakening Festival where kids got tested. Fail, and you stayed commoner forever.
He tested the system in secret. "Status," he thought one night under blankets.
[Host: Kaito. Age: 8 (Earth Equivalent: 28 mental). Mana Core: None.]
[Skills: None.]
[Bonds: 0/7.]
[Phase: Observation - Expand social range for candidates.]
Twenty-eight mentally. Felt right. Kid body sucked for push-ups, but his head was sharp.
Two months in, fever forgotten, he started exploring. Town was Eldridge Hollow, tucked in a valley with river for mills. Cobblestone main street bustled: blacksmith clang, market stalls hawking apples and wool. Commoner district like his—wash lines flapping, kids kicking leather balls. Beyond low stone walls, mage quarter gleamed: marble arches, fountains spraying rainbows, guards in blue robes eyeing outsiders.
Kaito wandered, Mina skipping beside. Baker waved, "Fresh rolls, lad!" He bartered with coppers from chores, ears open. Talk was rifts—portals spitting beasts north, guilds paying hunters. Mages cleared them easy, commoners died trying. "Stay clear," an old cart guy warned. "Unless you awaken next festival."
Festival. The big one at 13. Toren had flunked his, stayed carpenter. Lira too. "Happens to most," Dad shrugged over porridge. "We got each other."
Kaito nodded, but inside? Not me. System hummed agreement, scanning passersby. No dings. Girls his age giggled in groups—too young, probably. System waited for "compatible," whatever that meant.
Evenings, he'd climb the hill behind house, overlooking valley. Smoke from mage towers curled lazy. Magic world's unfair. Haves feast, have-nots tithe. Family fine now, but Mina grown? Taxes rise, rifts closer. He clenched fists. Gotta grow. Quiet first. Watch everything.
System tab flickered:
[Social Range +5%. Observation Progress: 12%.]
Yeah. Slow burn. Perfect.
By spring, Kaito had the town mapped in his head like a mini-map. Eldridge Hollow wasn't big—maybe 2,000 souls—but every alley told stories. Baker's wife griped about rift tax hikes. Blacksmith grumbled mages undercutting his enchanted steel knockoffs. Kids like him? Split clear: commoner scrappers vs. mage brats who floated pebbles for fun.He fell in with the former easy. The original Kaito—ghost memories flickering like system glitches—had a crew. Three boys, all mana-less hopefuls, kicking around near the river.
First was Renn, 9, freckled scamp with a slingshot always loaded. "Oi, Kaito! Fever make you slow?" he'd yell, chucking stones at cans. Quick laugh, quicker fists—town bully's favorite target.
Then Bram, same age, lanky with a stutter unless telling fish tales. Dad fished the river; he knew every eddy. "Th-there's big ones upstream, Kaito. Rift spawn, maybe."
Last, little Tavi, 7, round-cheeked tagalong. Worshipped them all, carried extra bread from his ma's stall. "Kaito's the smartest," he'd pipe up.Kaito slotted in seamless, Earth smarts masking the swap. They'd race to the old oak, claim "fort," swap rumors. "Heard mages summon wolves now," Renn bragged one dusty afternoon, whittling a stick. "Guild master's kid did it at five!"Bram nodded, skipping rocks. "M-my pa says rifts grow. More beasts. Commoners ain't allowed hunts.
"Tavi hugged knees. "Scary. Will we awaken, Kaito?"
Kaito leaned back, system idly scanning—no girls nearby, progress at 18%. "Festival's five years off. Train now. Slings, fists, wits. Magic's not everything."
Renn snorted. "Easy say. My brother's fifteen, still sweeping stables. Mana-less forever."
Ghost memory pinged:
Original Kaito idolized Renn's brother, dreamed guilds. Now? Kaito saw the cage. "Guilds take cuts. Boss commoners too. We'll be smarter."
They nodded, half-believing. Played till dusk—wrestle tag, dam the creek, dodge Lira's call. Normal kid stuff, but Kaito filed it: friends meant allies. Observation phase building networks.
One evening, sprawled under oak, Renn tossed him an apple. "You're different since fever, Kaito. Eyes sharper."Kaito bit in, juice sweet. "Fever dreams. Saw... power beyond magic." Half-truth. System tab ticked:
[Social Ties +2. Range Expanded.]
Good. Chaos later. For now, roots deep.
Summer heat baked the hollow, turning river mud to clay. Kaito's crew got bolder—sneaking berries from wild bushes, daring each other across rickety logs. Renn led, always, slingshot popping birds for stew. "Bet I hit a rift rat someday!" he'd crow.
Kaito hung back smart, mapping weak spots in fences, noting patrol times. System progress crawled to 28%. Friends proved useful: Tavi's ma heard gossip first, Bram knew shortcuts, Renn tested guts.
One sticky afternoon, wrestling Bram near the mage wall, Renn froze. "Shut it. Hear that?"
Hoofbeats. Horn blast echoing. Crowd stirred on main street—villagers jogging over.
Kaito dusted off, curiosity pulling. "Festival scout?"
They tailed the throng to square. Brass horn sounded again. Man on stallion, guild cloak rippling blue—silver embroidery screaming rank. Mage, mid-20s, chiseled jaw, staff humming faint light.
"People of Eldridge!" Voice amplified, booming. "Lord Arvan's guild expands rift clears. Volunteers for porter duty—commoners welcome. Coin for strong backs. But heed: beasts stir early this season."
Murmurs rippled. Toren pushed through nearby, Lira clutching Mina. Easy silver, risky work. Dad muttered, "Too good. What's the catch?"
Mage's eyes swept, cold. Landed on kids. "You lot. Festival hopefuls? Train hard—or haul packs till you awaken."
Renn bristled. Kaito felt it—class divide, raw. Guild needed meat shields.
Then the system *dinged* sharp, first real alert:
[Proximity Scan: Compatible Candidate Detected. Distance: 50m.]
[Aria Voss. Age: 15. Affinity: Fire (C-Class Native). Bond Potential: High.]
[Observation Phase Nearing End. Initiate Contact?]
Kaito's pulse spiked. A girl? Now? Crowd parted, revealing her behind the mage—a teen with wild red hair, freckles, patched robe marking low-rank apprentice. Eyes like embers, glaring at reins holding her back.
She met his stare across the square. Flicker of curiosity.
Shit. Game changing.
[Y/N?]