Chapter 6 — But That Hard Work Was Just Selecting the Magic from the System Menu Over and Over, Wasn’t It?

Jolt had memories of his previous life. He had been reincarnated here. But before that, he had lived like garbage.

Although his childhood was perfectly average, his failure on the high school entrance exams cast a long shadow over the rest of his life. He quickly fell into a self-destructive cycle, shutting himself away from the world well into middle age. His parents weren't particularly wealthy, but he leeched off them nonetheless, a parasite producing nothing valuable of his own. That's certainly how society would have described him, anyway, but that's not how he saw himself. Even as he approached the age of fifty, he still felt like he had a chance to do more.

His cause of death was most likely starvation. Living his life as a shut-in, the food had eventually stopped coming. At his usual meal time one day, nothing had arrived. No matter how hard he stomped on the floor or how loudly he yelled, there was no answer. Yet even then, the thought never occurred to him to go downstairs and check. He was like a baby bird in spirit, knowing only how to open his mouth and wait for the food to be placed there by someone else. Even a life-threatening inconvenience was still just an inconvenience.

Two days passed without food. He finally forced himself to stand. Stepping out into the hallway, he made his way downstairs for what must have been the first time in twenty years. Dragging his overweight body as best he could, he reached the living room.

The television had been left on, and his mother was curled up on the couch. It was his first time seeing her in a long while, and she looked much older than he remembered. Had she always been so small? As that thought crossed his mind, it was immediately blown away by anger. He was furious that she would be sleeping in front of the TV while he was starving.

"Hey, Ma! Where's the food?!"

There was no response. When he shook her to wake her up, a shiver ran through him. She was unimaginably light and offered no resistance.

As a result of his self-imprisonment, his family had fallen apart. His mother, left alone to care for him and the house, must have reached her physical and mental limits. Of course, Jolt hadn't recognized any of his mother's suffering. All he cared about was his own comfort.

And then he died. It sounded insane, but he couldn't even make himself leave the house. There was some food left at first, but once that was gone, it was all over. Never mind going out and working, he couldn't even bear the thought of ordering online if it meant having to see the person who would deliver it. People often say that when faced with death, a human can manage anything. But not Jolt. That was it for him.

Luckily, he didn't remember much about the time immediately preceding his death. If he did, he would probably still have been tormented by the pain of hunger long after being reincarnated.

The next thing he knew, he was a baby. At first, he panicked. He couldn't see anything, he could barely move, and he didn't understand what had happened. He didn't fully comprehend the situation until he was old enough to stand on his own. Perhaps because he still had the memories of his past life, he was able to pick up the language very quickly. But he was no longer in Japan. This was a world with magic and monsters. He was the third son of a wealthy noble family in the Kingdom of Manii, and his name was Jolt, or so he learned from people around him.

He didn't really believe in God, but he thanked him anyway. It was like he was being told to try one more time. One small mistake had led him astray in his previous life. But armed with those memories, this time he could do better.

Being born into a noble family was also a good sign. While there was magic in this world, not everyone could use it. A supernatural power known as the Gift had to be passed down from one person to another. As a member of a noble household, his family had an exceptionally powerful Gift to pass on to him.

Jolt's class was Rune Fighter. He was capable of using close-quarters combat techniques and magic at the same time, making his class one capable of fighting at any range. He was said to be a prodigy. He trained from a young age, and his knowledge of his past life made him extremely intelligent. An easy future was waiting for him here.

Or so he had thought.

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Jolt was in shock as he lay on his stomach on the training room floor. This was all wrong. His opponent was supposed to be eating the floor and looking up at him, not the other way around.

When he had first entered the school, he'd effortlessly defeated the cruel older students' attempts to haze him, cementing his own place in the social order. Their bullying of him had been a singular occurrence, one that would never happen again while he was a student there. As an upperclassman, he should have been able to crush the upstart newcomers with ease.

When the match had started, he'd strengthened his body with magical energy and snapped around behind his opponent, intending to strike at the boy from his blind spot, but the underclassman was already gone.

"How...how did that happen?!"

He had intended to go easy on the younger student. His opponent was royalty, after all. While that didn't mean much within the confines of the school, he recognized that he couldn't go too far with him. Regardless, he hadn't held back when it came to his movements. He'd circled behind his opponent as fast as possible, and the next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground.

Jolt should have had an overwhelming advantage. While the others had still barely been aware of their surroundings, he had been training. Rather than coasting through life without any effort as he had done the first time around, he had been working hard every day. Even as a baby, unable to move around, he had regularly practiced his defense magic and had become extremely proficient, capable of stopping any attack.

But that "hard work" was just selecting the magic from the system menu over and over, wasn't it?

The voice echoing inside Jolt's head shocked him, prompting him to look around. The prince was standing behind him, looking exactly as one might imagine royalty to look. Second prince of the Kingdom of Manii, Lord Darian was the standout student among the new arrivals that year.

Jolt panicked. The prince had read his mind. That was the only way he could be talking to him within his head.

Sorry for surprising you, but don't worry; I can only pry my way into the surface level of your consciousness through the Gift. I can't look deep into your heart or anything like that.

There were techniques that allowed telepathy in this world, but as far as Jolt knew, they required the consent of both parties involved. There shouldn't have been a way to unilaterally access someone's mind this way.

Well, even if you were using it against nothing, activating your magic repeatedly like that still makes it stronger. I suppose that could be considered "making an effort."

Feeling like he was being mocked, Jolt rose back to his feet, turning to face Darian once again.

You couldn't beat me even when attacking from behind. Do you really want to continue this?

"Shut up!" He couldn't lose. If he lost here, it would happen all over again. If he broke once, he would never be able to stand again. He had learned that lesson well enough in his past life.

He decided to use Disintegrate. As the name suggested, it was a spell that brought about total ruin. It could be focused into a thin beam of light to pierce through anything, or widened into a large area to create large-scale destruction. Of course, he wouldn't get away with merely being blamed for killing a member of the royal family. The entire school would be destroyed, and everyone in it would die along with him. But he didn't care. If he was going to lose, he would be better off annihilating everyone else in the process.

"Take this!"

The spell activated, but the scene he had imagined never came to pass. Everything should have been instantly reduced to rubble, scattered across an empty desert, but nothing had changed. His magical energy was almost completely drained, so there was no doubt that the spell had activated. But there had been no effect.

It was always possible that Darian himself could have survived such a spell. He could have blocked it with a higher-rank defense spell or reduced the incoming damage. But there was no way that nothing at all would happen. Even if Darian could defend himself, he shouldn't have been able to protect the people and buildings around him.

Sorry, but I took the liberty of analyzing and neutralizing your spell.

Jolt collapsed. It had never occurred to him that Darian could do such a thing. Magic was nothing more than a skill that activated once it was selected. He had thought that any further analysis or research was meaningless.

Darian stepped closer, but Jolt hung his head in shame.

The truth is, I failed to stop you the first time. I was fine, but the school was reduced to dust. So this was my second try. I couldn't neutralize your power as easily as I'd thought.

Although Darian spoke lightly, his words sent a chill down Jolt's spine. If that were true, the prince could manipulate time and space. Jolt couldn't possibly fight someone like that.

Who are you? he thought.

I'm not all that impressive. Just like your class is Rune Fighter, mine is System Engineer.

Jolt had never heard of such a class, but he vaguely understood what it meant. It was the power to rule over the Gift that governed this world. Darian could neutralize any skill or magic used through the system, and could manipulate time and space in the same way.

Kill me. What could he possibly do against an opponent like that? He sank into despair. It was over for him. His second chance at life had been a waste.

If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have used such a roundabout method. Darian kneeled down to look him in the eyes. I was told not to kill you, after all. Besides, that spell was really interesting. How did you learn to use it? Would you let me research you a bit more?

Jolt unsteadily raised his head. He wasn't quite sure what Darian was asking.

Don't worry; I'm not going to do anything to you. I can figure it out myself if you just tell me about it.

Jolt had no choice but to surrender.

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Over time, Darian continued to seek out other reincarnated humans and add them to his group. It turned out there were plenty of people like Jolt. As long as there wasn't a huge difference in the environment they'd been reincarnated into, the gap between their previous lives and their new ones correlated with their individual strengths in this world. For Jolt, who had expended no effort and accomplished nothing in his previous life, there was no hope of matching the others. After all, anyone could accomplish the basic level of effort he had put forth.

With these reincarnated individuals, Darian created a group that came to be known as the Invincible Battalion. It wasn't that he was looking for raw strength. If he wanted power, he was plenty strong on his own.

Jolt had a difficult time understanding the prince's motives. He was royalty, but had no interest in the throne. With the level of power he possessed, he should have had no problem conquering the Underworld beneath the city, but he never even made the attempt. According to him, the Underworld had become an irreplaceable part of the kingdom's culture, so it was not particularly advantageous to change that. He had offered the thought as if it would have been an easy feat for him to seal off the Underworld forever.

Instead, he traveled the kingdom, enjoying the sights and helping the people. It was common for royalty to travel around Manii, but it was rare for them to be out for such long stretches of time. He would wander the land, leaping in to assist at the first sign of trouble. Jolt figured he must have been searching for something.

"Half-demons? What's the point of stealing something that's so hard to use?"

One day, Darian had come to learn about the theft of the half-demons. If it had been an issue of one or two being stolen, he wouldn't have bothered mobilizing the Invincible Battalion. The demihumans were nothing more than objects, and their owners were more often than not high-ranking nobles, so it was nothing more than petty theft. The owners could have easily solved the problem themselves.

But when it became clear that the same group of renegades was stealing other half-demons, the situation became more urgent. On top of that, one of the culprits was said to be a vampire. For a normal human, resolving the incident would be a challenge.

It was exactly the kind of affair that Darian was needed for.

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"Go for it. If you're going to kill someone, see if you can take me out!"

Robert moved his horse in front of the young man, challenging him. Jolt couldn't help but look at the boy with pity. He was Japanese in appearance...so very unlike Jolt. He must have been transported to this world rather than having been reincarnated.

Of course, they couldn't relax merely because their opponent had been summoned instead. They needed to analyze the stranger's powers regardless. But the results showed that he was just a normal boy with no sign at all of the Gift. And even if he had possessed the Gift, it would have been useless against Darian's invincible armor.

"Die." The boy pointed at Robert. It was almost amusing. If that was his last attempt at fighting back, it only made him look like a fool.

Jolt could imagine what would become of the boy after this. He wouldn't be recognizable as human. That was a habit of Robert's. His comrade would inflict as much pain as possible, enough that his victim would wish for death, but he would never grant it.

Instead, Robert himself collapsed. Jolt stared in shock. His fellow soldier wavered for a moment, fell from his horse, and lay motionless on the ground.

"I can kill anyone just by thinking it. So please go."

The boy spoke like a patient teacher might to a slow student. There was resignation there, as if he knew that his opponents wouldn't be able to wrap their minds around what he was saying.

But Jolt understood the words. Robert had been killed by this boy. He just didn't know how it was possible. Robert's uniform was part of the invincible armor that Darian had developed. The armor was miraculously powerful. The same power that had protected Darian from Jolt's magic had been woven into the very fabric of those uniforms. That power could neutralize any spell, prevent any sort of status ailment, or stop any attack element completely. That was the reward gained from having control of the Gift that governed this world. That was why they were invincible.

Even though Darian had made the uniforms on a whim, until now, no one had ever been able to penetrate their defenses. For someone bound by the system, it defied belief. Power in this world meant the Gift, which was nothing more than a phenomenon processed by the system. So no skills produced by the Gift could ever break through their armor.

"How dare you! What do you think you know about our Invincible Battalion?!" Jolt blurted out. He wanted to continue, to say, "We are invincible, and there is no way you can overcome the armor that Darian made for us!"

"Fine! There is no need for Lord Darian to dirty his own hands!" the Witch of the Frozen Flame, Elayna, suddenly shouted. "My magic will—"

Jolt tried to stop her. She had no concept of restraint. If she used her power, the entire area would be consumed in a gale of absolute zero winds. Though Jolt and his companions would be fine thanks to their armor, the half-demons they had come to retrieve would be slaughtered.

But his fears were for nothing. Elayna's voice had cut off in the middle of her speech as she too fell from her horse.

Jolt could tell that the two of them were dead. He could see their deceased status through the system as well, as could every other member of his troop.

"It should be obvious, but if you attack me, I'll fight back. Oh, and I won't attack anyone who tries to escape, so feel free to run away."

The boy must have been referring to killing Elayna. But he couldn't have done anything that time. He hadn't even told her to die, like he had done with Robert.

"That's insane," Bernard muttered. "It's impossible!" A moment after drawing his sword in rage, he immediately fell to the ground.

Three dead now. There was no more room for doubt. The boy was telling the truth. He could kill anyone by thinking it and could counter anyone who tried to attack him.

"Resurrection!" Saria used her power on their fallen companions. Her resurrection magic was on a whole other level. She had once come across a scene where dozens of people had been torn apart, to the point of being completely unrecognizable, and had revived them all at once. She had come to be feared as the Witch of Blasphemy for the way she could play with others' lives.

But now, her magic seemed ineffective. There was no apparent reason for the others to have died. Even after falling off their horses, there were no apparent signs of injury on them. Yet they were dead. Motionless.

"What's going on?! Mass Resurrection!" Saria turned her magic on the boy himself, performing the taboo of using Resurrection Magic on a living person. It was a twisted application of the spell, which would force the target's body and soul to merge together into a twisted abomination of their former self.

But the result was the same. Saria fell from her horse and didn't move again.

"Hey, are you guys stupid or something?" the boy asked with a sigh.

This time, none of the others attempted to attack him. Four of their number were now dead for no discernible reason. Jolt didn't have the confidence to believe that he alone would be the one to survive. He was aware of that much. And the others seemed to feel the same. They understood that even if they couldn't explain it, the situation was too dangerous to try anything more.

They all stopped moving. The snorting of their restless horses was the only sound in the air.

This is wrong. There's no way this can be real!

Jolt had been happy here. He had escaped his previous worthless life and become a new person. Things had been going so well. Wielding his own power for his own whims had set him back, but swearing fealty to an even greater power had brought him real joy.

He felt guilty over the prospect of letting his desires run rampant, killing anyone who angered him and taking any woman that caught his eye. Those with power could do whatever they wanted, but even if that was what he wanted deep down, he didn't have the confidence for it. Even without restrictions, he would have been at a loss on his own.

Jolt found more happiness in serving someone strong, like Darian. There was no need for him to worry about right and wrong. No matter the situation, Darian was in the right. Jolt was satisfied with that. So if he treated these half-demons as less than human, or killed civilians who got in their way, as long as they had Darian's approval, it was okay. It was just another step on their journey of setting the world right. That was all there was to it. No matter how complicated the incident, even if the Demon Lord's own henchmen interfered, regardless of whether their enemy was a vampire, it was all the same. Darian would solve everything, and his Battalion would praise him for it. This time would be no different.

And yet, four of his comrades were gone. That inspired fear. Although the boy standing in front of them wasn't the least bit threatening to look at, Jolt's companions had been struck down without being able to offer the slightest resistance. Everything felt wrong, like the dots just weren't connecting right, as if he had missed some important detail or his memories were completely off.

The boy had some sort of inexplicable power, but Jolt had no idea how it worked, and the fact that he didn't understand it was the most terrifying part of all. If that power had followed a logical path, they could have guarded against it, and he could even have accepted his companions' deaths. But there was none of that with this boy. There was no logic, no cause for the effect. Those people had just died. It was irrational.

Jolt looked at Darian plaintively. The prince would be able to do something. He had no choice but to trust in him.