The gods make people work their butts off—SAVING THE WORLD, DOING RIDICULOUS AMOUNTS OF HARD LABOR—all just to "prove" they're worthy to become what they already are: a damn PROTECTOR OF THE WORLD!
Then, after all the effort, after sweating through hell and back, the gods go:
"Hmm. This one's more useful."
And just like that, they pick one. Just ONE.
And the rest are discarded. Stripped of their system assistant and their skills.
Like they were never chosen to begin with.
Applaud! Applaud!
A wonderful conspiracy theory of the cosmos. One I would never be caught dead involved in!
*
Seraphina was definitely not human, just like I'd surmised…
Okay, okay. Anyone would've figured that out. I should stop acting like a genius already.
"Yes, Master—"
God, I love it when she calls me that.
"—I am not one of those frail, fleeting existences called humans. I am a System Administrator of this realm."
System Administrator? I've read about those in fantasy novels. Usually some floating voice or cosmic agent or something.
"So, you're a god, basically?" I asked.
"Not really. I am a system administrator."
"I'll smack you! Didn't I hear you the first time? I know your office title. What I'm asking is—what race are you?" I flailed my baby arms in frustration. "I mean, if you're a system administrator, that means you basically oversee the world's order and balance, right? But I'm not asking about your job. I'm asking about your species!"
"Ah, Master, you're so knowledgeable!"
Ehehe… I mean, I read a lot of books, but… to call me a genius is a bit—
"I didn't call you a genius though. I actually think you are sort of stupid."
"You're awful! At least try to be kind to me! And why are you saying horrible things with such a beautiful smile?! And wait—are you reading my mind?! Ah, haven't you been doing that ever since Chapter 6 began?!"
"Jeez, Master, you get worked up so easily." She pulled me back into her bosom like I was an upset kitten. "Despite you acting like an innocent, timid fool back in your other world… I know you're actually far more vulgar."
"…"
"But… I think it makes you cuter."
"If that was meant to make me feel better, you FAILED." I deadpanned, peeling myself away from her arms and standing on the bed like a disgruntled toddler.
"I'm not a god, as you thought," Seraphina began. "I was created for the sole purpose of maintaining balance and order in the realm… Though, I don't really do anything. I let my subordinates handle the hard stuff."
"I knew it. You're a horrible person!"
So, there you have it.
This hot, sexy succubus wasn't a succubus. Or a goddess. Just a… I don't know, cosmic android who's apparently incompetent enough to slack off and leave the world's fate in her assistants' hands.
Wait a sec… does that mean every other Guardian Candidate has their own Seraphina?
"Hahaha! Master, you're so dense, it's actually entertaining!"
"...I'll slug you."
"I told you before—one world only has one administrator."
"Nope. I swear you didn't say that to me."
"I didn't? Then my mistake. I'm telling you now."
Oh God, this woman is pissing me off.
"If every candidate had a system administrator, then 24 administrators would exist in this world—that's absurd. That kind of cosmic imbalance is exactly the thing I'd take action against."
"You tried to sound cool at the end, but your image has already been sullied to me. I still think you're a lazy god-android."
Then I asked the most important question of all:
How to get a girlfriend, and fast.
To which she responded—
"J-Jeez, Master," she said, puffing out her chest and pulling her cleavage toward my baby self. "Aren't I enough for you?"
…So I figured she'd never give me a succulent answer.
I walked toward the window near the head of the bed.
My hand couldn't reach it, even though it wasn't that high.
Seraphina opened the window and set me on the sill like she already knew what was on my mind.
Let's ignore the part where she just let a baby sit on a fourth-story window.
It was late evening… But looking outside… it was just like my world—tall buildings afar, modern roads and modern folks moving about.
I actually live in an apartment. I wonder if my neighbours are cute girls, though.
Anyway—skills.
Apparently, all Guardian Candidates can only have up to 10 skills.
One Ultra Skill, four Extra Skills, and five Ordinary Skills.
Let's start with the ordinary skills—which I already am not a fan of.
Ordinary Skills are abilities granted to help with meager tasks like seeing in the dark, stabilizing your magic, or maybe getting better control over the elements.
Seraphina says they're basic because, with enough practice, anyone could learn those things anyway.
So really, the only benefit is for cheap surprise attacks. Yay.
Now, Extra Skills—those are actually useful. It provides the user effects like flight, enhanced strength, fire control, psychic abilities, and other cool tricks.
Even though they can technically be learned through magic, the key difference is this:
A skill, once granted, remains. Whether magic's flowing or not, it still works—and often, works better than magic.
Let's say you're a powerful mage;
If I slap you using a strength-granting skill, you'll probably take it like a champ, but it'll feel like a punch from a very strong human.
But if I slap you using magically-enhanced strength—no matter how well I control it—the hit might just be flashy noise. Could even get neutralized, due to your mastery of magic.
Now, Ultra Skills.
Ultra Skills are essentially Extra Skills... but dialed up to god-slaying levels.
They rival divine power. They're absolute. Irrefutable. Uncancelable. Unless, of course, by another Ultra Skill—an abnormal one.
It's a guaranteed trump card.
But the issue is: Guardian Candidates can only ever have one.
Seraphina said I could check out my skills and other details through the "System Board."
So, I willed it—and sure enough, a bluish, semi-transparent screen flickered into existence before me.
It looked like a digital scroll, glowing gently, with elegant cursive script dancing across it.
I stared at the list of skills available to me—thousands of them. Just endless scrolling like some divine app store.
Choosing only ten from this ridiculous buffet was utter torture.
So I thought to myself, "What do I need to survive in a world of magic and battle, where my fellow Guardian Candidates—or god-knows-what—might crave my demise?"
First: Absolute Defense.
Second: Ultimate Offense.
Third: …A power to look ridiculously handsome so I'll have a better shot at fooling around with women.
Apparently, that last one pissed Seraphina off.
She very helpfully informed me that some Guardian Candidates could "steal" or "copy" other people's skills.
Which is, I don't know, downright terrifying.
Just imagine my precious "look-good" skill suddenly poofing out of existence in public.
The disgrace from the deception…
Not that I look bad, mind you. In fact, I look pretty cute—if the window reflection isn't mischievous this evening. The light was a bit dim.
Short black hair. Blue eyes. Baby face. Solid stats.
But will the cuteness survive puberty? I wonder.
So, guess what?