If I were to sum up my 20 years of life after reincarnation in one sentence, it would be this: I beca the useless youngest child of a family fad for prophecies.
"Your prophecy skills are truly awful. Can you even make a living with them?"
"You’ll never be able to inherit the family fortune-telling business!"
"Predictions about good fortune can afford to be vague, but predictions about misfortune can’t! They have to be precise! You’re utterly useless!"
The Jericho family, the one I was born into, was renowned for generations as a family of seers—earning their keep by foreseeing people’s futures and receiving paynt in return.
The problem was, maybe because the nature of the job often brought them into contact with the upper class, my parents were unbelievably extravagant to the point of absurdity.
They’d rack up debts just to attend various events and banquets, always chasing the delusional dream that they too could beco part of high society.
Their extravagance was one thing, but the real issue—and the root of my misery—was that they also had a habit of thoroughly discriminating among their children based on their abilities.
"Even bread is wasted on soone as useless as you!"
Starving was an everyday occurrence for since I was young.
While my older siblings, who could predict the future as effortlessly as breathing, enjoyed the best food and clothes, I was stuck in a hot attic during sumr and freezing in winter, wearing ragged hand--downs.
For 20 years, I was little more than a servant, taking care of my family’s every need and doing all the nial chores.
Unlike my older siblings, who could predict good fortune, I could only foresee misfortune. Even then, my prophecies were so vague and short-lived that I could only see fleeting glimpses of one or three seconds into the future.
Predicting misfortune requires precision and detail to provide actionable guidance that avoids disaster. My vague glimpses were practically worthless.
When it ca to prophecy, I truly was useless.
Just how useless was I?
Even on the day when my parents and older siblings all died in a car accident at the sa ti, I didn’t foresee it at all.
When my family disappeared overnight, I didn’t feel particularly sad.
Given how they’d treated , it would have been stranger if I had.
The real problem was this:
"Jericho Amael? My condolences. Did you know your parents left behind an enormous amount of debt?"
Even in death, my so-called family found a way to drag down.
The debt was imnse.
So imnse that I had to sell off the house, the fortune-telling shop, and every single inheritance to cover it.
Overnight, I lost everything.
And on the very sa day I beca completely penniless…
[Confirmation of reaching adulthood upon passing your 20th birthday!]
[Congratulations!]
[You have acquired the following skills: , , , !]
[Train your sex slaves as you see fit!]
For the first ti in 20 years, a status window appeared before my eyes.
So, I did have reincarnation skills… but they were erotic ga skills that couldn’t be used as a minor?!
***
Thanks to the survival skills honed through 20 years of nial labor, I managed to get a job at a small diner near the fortune-telling shop.
My days consisted of serving food, wiping down tables, and collapsing onto a small employee bed at the end of each shift.
But even as I lay down to rest, an intense desire surged through ti and ti again.
Unlike my previous life, where all I had was my trash-tier prophecy ability, now I had these erotic ga skills.
Couldn’t I use them to live the good life?
What if I approached a rich, lonely widow, used my reincarnation skills to turn her into my complete and utter plaything, and lived as a kept man?
Honestly, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.
With the superior physique and handso looks that were the only good things my wretched parents had given , combined with my erotic ga skills, living as a gigolo didn’t just seem plausible—it felt downright achievable.
But of course…
It was nothing more than a fantasy.
There was one massive obstacle stopping , boldly plastered on the diner wall where I worked:
[Unregistered illegal magic use is a serious cri!]
[If you witness illegal magic use, report it imdiately!]
[Reporting illegal magic helps make the Empire safer for everyone!]
Let’s say I actually went through with my plan.
I seduced so wealthy, lonely widow, used my skills to make her completely mine, and had her saying things like, “Amael, I can’t live without your massive rod! Unyoooo♥”
The mont one of her servants overheard and reported it, I’d be on the gallows by sunset.
Even if I sohow managed to win over the servants, secrets like that never stay hidden forever.
Sooner or later, people would notice so gigolo hanging around a rich widow’s house, using strange magic and blowing through her money.
When that happened, I’d have to prove my abilities weren’t illegal magic. But do I have a certification from the Mage Tower? A permit from the temple?
Of course not. The mont I was exposed, my death would be inevitable.
Why not just formally register the skills, you ask?
Registering magic is no easy task.
To register, I’d have to explain to the picky wizards and witches at the Mage Tower exactly how my abilities work.
How the hell am I supposed to explain the activation principle of erotic ga skills? If I could do that, I’d have beco a wizard already!
Besides, take one look at my skill list. They’re the kind of skills only an incubus would have. If I tried to explain them to anyone, how do you think they’d react?
Even if, by so miracle, I successfully registered the skills and was allowed to use them, using them to turn innocent won into my personal ATMs is morally reprehensible.
The conclusion: living as a gigolo using erotic ga skills is impossible.
"Goddamn it. If you’re going to give erotic ga skills, at least create an environnt where I can use them."
I muttered a curse under my breath and pulled the blanket over my head.
If they’re going to hand erotic ga skills, they should at least give a setting where I can actually use them.
Throwing into a country where getting caught using them ans imdiate execution? What the hell am I supposed to do?
My complaints didn’t last long.
The work at the diner was exhausting.
The weight of sleep soon pressed down on , and before long, I was fast asleep.
***
The Arkal Empire was ablaze.
Mountains of corpses were piled everywhere, and rivers of blood flowed down the streets.
The harrowing screams of people being burned alive echoed endlessly, like a horrific symphony resounding from all directions.
At the center of it all was a witch.
This witch, with four arms, stood exposed, completely naked before the world.
Her maniacal laughter and unrestrained, sensual body were on full display as she unleashed overwhelming magic, slaughtering people without end—again and again.
The flas she conjured crept closer and closer.
Just as the fire was about to engulf , I locked eyes with the witch.
Her hair, darkened and matted with blood, was wildly tossed into the air as she fixed her gaze on and asked a question:
"Do you also think I’m hideous?"
One side of her face was breathtakingly beautiful.
But the other was the exact opposite.
The grotesquely twisted skin was littered with more than ten eyes, clustered like a spider’s and blinking erratically.
A horrifyingly warped visage that churned my stomach.
The witch laughed as she saw the terror in my expression.
"So you think I’m ugly too! Ha ha ha ha!!"
She unleashed her magic once more.
The flas that devoured the empire did not stop there—they began consuming the entire continent.
The world was ablaze.
And I, too, was engulfed in the fire.
Writhing in agony, I scread, joining the chorus of cries from the people around .
Happiness ceased to exist in the world.
Only ashes, flas, screams, and twisted, monstrous remnants of what were once humans remained, their howls echoing into oblivion.
***
I bolted upright from bed like a spring, the first sensation being the dampness of my sweat-soaked clothes.
My garnts and blanket were drenched, as though I’d just taken a bath.
Damn it.
Could it be that my prophecy ability only works on grand-scale predictions?
A prophecy about the end of the world?!
The problem was: when would it happen?
And who exactly was the witch from that dream?
Even if I sohow figured out who the witch was, I had absolutely no idea how to stop her.
Grabbing my head, I collapsed onto the bed again.
"What the hell am I supposed to... How am I supposed to deal with this?"
The only abilities I had were my newly unlocked erotic ga skills after 20 years and the pitiful prophecy ability even my own blood relatives had disregarded.
And with these, I’m supposed to stop a witch powerful enough to burn an entire empire to the ground?
I an, seriously, how the hell am I supposed to do that?
This wasn’t supposed to be so kind of post-apocalyptic dark fantasy! Wasn’t this an erotic ga?
I couldn’t sleep.
Ripping at my hair, I tried to co up with a solution.
They say your brain works faster when you’re in a life-or-death situation.
Like a lightning strike, an idea ca to .
The witch’s face—half of it was horribly deford.
Those clusters of eyes, grotesque and terrifying.
And she had asked , "Do you also think I’m hideous?"
It occurred to that maybe her rampage was caused by her disfigurent. Perhaps she had fallen into despair over her appearance, and that despair had driven her to madness.
If that were the case...
What if I could fix her face before she went berserk and destroyed the empire?
The idea seed promising.
But how?
How on earth was I supposed to heal a face as twisted and grotesque as hers?
I wasn’t a priest or a healer.
If I had been a dical student in my past life in Korea, maybe I’d have a clue.
But I was just a science major…
Then it hit .
"Body Modification."
One of the four erotic ga skills I had received.
Couldn’t this skill fix her disfigured face?
"Status window."
I quickly pulled up my status window and carefully reread the description of Body Modification.
The explanation was so crude and vulgar that King Sejong himself would weep and reconsider inventing Hangul, but in essence, it boiled down to this:
The skill allowed to alter soone’s body to any form I desired!
This could work.
I could use this skill to transform the witch’s deford face into sothing beautiful, prevent the apocalypse, and live happily ever after.
A smile spread across my face.
But it quickly faded.
[Unregistered illegal magic use is a serious cri!]
[If you witness illegal magic use, report it imdiately!]
[Reporting illegal magic helps make the Empire and your life safer!]
The words on the poster boldly plastered on one wall of the diner flashed through my mind.
Unregistered magic use.
What the hell was I supposed to do?
If I used my skills, I’d be executed for illegal magic use even if I managed to heal the witch.
This was a no-win scenario.
If I didn’t heal the witch, she would destroy the empire and kill along with it.
If I healed her, I’d be executed for using unregistered magic.
Why the hell is life so unfair to ?
There had to be a way to use my skills without getting executed.
A way to bypass the Mage Tower and temple’s strict magic regulations.
I spent the entire night pondering.
"Amael! Are you up? Let’s start getting ready to open the diner!"
Just as the diner owner called my na, interrupting my sleepless night of deliberation, a solution ca to .
There was a way to use my skills without being executed as an unregistered magic user.
"I’ll only be working here until today!!!"
"What are you talking about? Why so suddenly?"
"There’s sothing I absolutely must do!!!"
I worked until the end of that day, received my wages, and used the money to buy a train ticket to the capital.
The only way to use unregistered magic without facing execution…
…was to pretend to be a saint.
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