Yuuto Sakamoto – Age: 16
Location: Saitama High, Japan
Since I was a kid, I was different.
Not in a flashy way—no sparkly hair or superhuman reflexes. Just... different. While other boys in kindergarten were obsessed with toy swords and action heroes, I was the weird one taking apart the TV remote just to see how it worked. I didn't even know what "circuitry" meant yet—I just knew I had to understand it.
By the time I turned eight, I was already building simple gadgets from junk parts. A solar-powered fan using an old calculator panel. A motion-sensor trap that dropped marbles when someone opened my bedroom door. My parents were the first to notice I wasn't like the other kids.
And the best part?
They didn't try to stop me.
They helped me.
My dad, a former engineer, dusted off his old toolboxes. My mom, a bookworm who majored in physics, bought me manuals far above my grade level. Our house wasn't a mansion, but it had everything I needed—a garage turned lab, shelves stacked with tools, soldering kits, and pages filled with my sketches and dreams.
I wasn't popular. I didn't care.
I had something better: vision.
I read everything I could. Mechanics, alchemy theory, even fringe magical sciences—even if they were all fictional in this world. I didn't believe in limits. If something didn't exist, I would create it. If people laughed, I'd let my inventions speak louder than their words.
But that's the thing.
The world doesn't like it when someone tries to rise above.
By the time I turned sixteen, I had already won three national science competitions, published a paper online under a fake name, and was tinkering with early mana-based concepts—even if the world called it "fiction."
And that's when it all changed.
That's when he appeared.
Ryota Kenzaki.
Popular. Athletic. Born with good looks and better luck. The kind of guy who could fail a test and still get applause just for showing up. Girls adored him. Teachers overlooked his attitude. He was the golden boy of Saitama High.
And he hated me.
Not because I ever insulted him. Not because I was better than him at sports or social games. But because I was something he couldn't control.
I got attention—for my mind.
And Ryota hated not being the center of everything.
It started small. Whispered jokes in the hallway. Sneers when I walked by.
Then it escalated.
The classroom buzzed with chatter that morning. Desks scraped against the floor. I sat at the back, as always, hunched over my sketchbook. Today's design: a compact mana converter powered by kinetic motion. The lines flowed easily, my hand moving almost automatically.
Then—thud.
A hard kick slammed into the back of my chair. I jolted forward, pencil jerking across the page.
"Oops," came a smug voice.
I didn't need to look to know who it was.
Ryota.
I stayed quiet.
"What, nothing to say, nerd?" he said louder. A few heads turned. His friends snickered nearby.
He leaned over, snatching the edge of my notebook. "Still drawing those stupid machines? What is this, some kind of microwave or your robot girlfriend?"
More laughter. I felt my face heat up, but I didn't move.
"Man, you never change. Always acting like you're better than the rest of us."
I reached out slowly, taking my notebook back. My fingers were steady, but my jaw clenched.
"Don't worry," Ryota added, patting my shoulder like I was some stray dog. "When you invent a time machine to escape reality, let me know."
He walked off, laughing with his crew. The room returned to normal like nothing had happened. Like it was just another day.
But I sat there, eyes on the blueprints in my hands.
They don't understand.
Not yet.
They called me a freak. A loser. A nerd.
But one day…
You'll see
Another morning. Another routine.
I packed up my sketches—what I called blueprints—into the folder I always carried. Each one was a piece of my mind, my vision, my world.
They meant everything to me.
But to everyone else? Just more fuel for their mockery.
The sky outside was overcast, thick clouds rolling in over Saitama. I walked the same quiet path toward school, head slightly bowed, bag slung over one shoulder. From a distance, I probably looked like any normal student. No one would guess the designs in my folder could change the world.
As I entered the gates, I felt it. That familiar pressure in my chest.
The tension of pretending.
The weight of knowing what waited inside.
When I stepped into the second-floor hallway, the sound hit me like a slap.
Laughter. Loud, arrogant, familiar.
Through the window just ahead of the classroom, I saw him.
Ryota Kenzaki.
Leaning back in his chair, grinning wide, surrounded by the usual orbit of followers. They hung on every word like he was some divine being, not just another self-obsessed teenager.
I lowered my head and pushed the door open quietly.
Maybe if I moved fast. Maybe if I didn't make eye contact. Maybe—
"Oi, look who finally decided to crawl out of his lab!"
The words hit before I even reached my seat.
I kept walking.
But that wasn't enough.
A foot slid out from Ryota's aisle—fast.
Crack!
It caught me mid-step. I stumbled, barely managing to catch myself before I fell flat.
My sketches scattered.
Laughter erupted behind me like a wave crashing down.
"Careful, Yuuto," Ryota said, voice fake-sweet. "Wouldn't want your top-secret nerd files getting damaged."
I crouched down, gathering my papers in silence. My hands shook—not from fear, but from the heat boiling in my chest.
"Maybe he's inventing a spine," one of Ryota's friends said.
"Nah, a girlfriend. But she's digital, of course."
I stood up, fists clenched around my blueprints.
"Say that again," I said, voice low.
The laughter paused. A quiet ripple of surprise passed through the room. Ryota raised a brow.
"What was that?" he said, stepping closer.
"I said," I repeated, raising my eyes to his, "say that again."
He didn't back down. Of course not.
He shoved me.
I stumbled back against a desk. My folder hit the floor again.
That should've been it.
But something snapped inside me.
I lunged.
Not smart. Not strategic. Just raw frustration. I grabbed his shirt, shoved him back. For one brief second, the smug smirk dropped from his face.
Then they came.
Two of Ryota's friends grabbed my arms, dragging me off. I fought to twist free, but they were stronger.
"Get him," Ryota said, shaking his head like I was a joke.
One punched me in the gut.
Another slammed me into the wall.
And just like that, the room returned to laughter.
I looked up—and saw her.
The teacher.
She'd just entered the hall. I met her eyes through the glass. Blood ran from my lip. My knees shook.
She saw me.
She saw.
And then…
She turned.
And kept walking.
Ryota wasn't done.
He stalked toward me while I was still on the ground, breath shallow, lip bleeding.
Then—he grabbed my hair.
Fist tangled in the strands, yanking my head up to face him.
"Look at you," he sneered, eyes full of cruel satisfaction. "You see it now, right? No one really cares about you. Not the students. Not the teachers. You're nothing."
Crack!
His foot slammed into my cheek. The pain burst white-hot behind my eye as I collapsed to the floor.
"Pick him up," he said lazily.
Hands gripped my arms. Two of his lackeys dragged me up like I was garbage. My legs hung limp beneath me.
"What… are you doing?" I muttered, vision spinning.
Ryota cracked his knuckles.
"What do you think?" he grinned. "You like building machines, right? Bet you love those little fingers. So delicate. So… important."
He stepped closer.
"Maybe we start with this one—"
He grabbed my right hand roughly. "Or maybe your left? No, no… better idea. Let's break both."
Laughter. Their laughter again.
My heart pounded.
"No—no! What are you doing?! This is more than just bullying!" I shouted, panic rising. "You're insane!"
Ryota raised his foot, aiming for my hand.
And then—
Everything changed.
The air shimmered.
A pulse. Like the world hiccupped.
The lights above flickered—then flared—then shattered.
"W-What the hell?!" one of Ryota's friends shouted.
A low, humming thrum rose in the air, vibrating through our bones. The classroom walls trembled. Static filled the air like a storm was about to tear through.
And then—
FLASH.
A blinding light exploded across the room—pure white, no heat, no sound.
I blinked—
And saw Ryota vanish.
His body disintegrated into particles of light. One by one, the others followed.
The classroom emptied like glass shattering in reverse. Students were ripped away, their bodies flashing out of existence, swallowed by that unnatural force.
"No—wait—what's happening?!" I screamed, as the light reached my feet.
The last thing I saw was my blueprints scattering mid-air—
—and then everything turned to white.
When I opened my eyes…
It was like waking in a dream I didn't remember entering.
Everything was white. But not empty—endless.
The kind of white that shimmered with layers of silver, gold, and something deeper beneath it. The ground wasn't solid. Each step I took sent ripples outward like I was walking on liquid light.
"…Where am I?"
My voice felt small in the vast silence.
Then—
"Welcome, Yuuto Sakamoto."
The voice didn't echo. It resonated. Like it came from the very atoms of the air, vibrating through the marrow of my bones.
I turned quickly, heart slamming against my ribs.
Behind me stood a giant.
No—a being.
He towered above the sky itself, and yet stood only a few steps away. One massive hand rested against his chin, as if amused. The other hung at his side, fingers long and calm.
His entire body shimmered like a walking universe—an infinite canvas of galaxies and swirling stars. Nebulas danced across his limbs. Planets orbited what could've been a shoulder. I couldn't see a face—only shadows and starlight.
"Who… who are you?" I managed, my voice breaking.
The being let out a low, thoughtful hum, stars shifting in rhythm.
"Many have called me by different names. God. Architect. Observer. But for you, Yuuto… I am simply the one who chose you."
My breath caught.
"Chose me… for what?"
The being leaned slightly forward. Light spilled from his body, bathing me in warmth and pressure all at once.
"To create. To shape. To bring invention where there is only ruin. You are the anomaly. The spark. The Mad Scientist."
My eyes widened.
"A class…?"
The god's grin stretched across space.
"You will soon descend into a world unlike yours. Magic rules. War consumes. Heroes rise and fall. But none like you. You, who dream in circuits and scribble in blueprints. You are my wildcard, Yuuto Sakamoto."
A circle of light formed beneath me—gears spinning, equations rotating in alien patterns.
And then:
> [Class Assigned: Mad Scientist]
Unique Class.
Status: Compatible.
Mind-Level Limit Break Detected…
Unlocking custom interface…
> [SYSTEM ACTIVATING…]
A golden screen flickered into view in front of me, floating mid-air:
Name: Yuuto Sakamoto
Age: 16
Class: Mad Scientist
Title: Chosen of the Architect
HP: 100
MP: 250
SP: 150
STR: 7
AGI: 10
INT: 35
WIS: 28
DEX: 22
LUK: 5
Skills Unlocked:
Blueprint Manifestation (Lv1): Convert mental designs into visible schematics.
Scrapforge (Lv1): Use nearby materials to rapidly create basic tech.
Overclock (Lv1): Temporarily boost invention speed +50%.
Analyze (Lv1): Scan any magical or mechanical object for weaknesses.
Yuuto stared at it, wide-eyed.
"…What the hell?"
The being laughed softly.
"Go now. Shake the world, inventor. Build your future… or destroy it."
And just like that—
The world fell away again.
Elsewhere…
Bathed in golden sunlight, the grand courtyard of Altheria, the Radiant Kingdom of the West, thundered with applause.
Noble towers gleamed in the sky, banners of sapphire and gold flapping in the breeze. Soldiers lined the sides in perfect formation. High mages and royal priests watched from the marble steps of the palace.
And at the center of it all—
Ryota Kenzaki.
He stood proudly, back straight, his school uniform now replaced by a shining white and silver tunic trimmed in divine blue. In his hand gleamed a polished sword, humming faintly with runes.
Cheers roared from the nobles, the warriors, even the other students—many of whom were now standing in neat lines behind him, unsure but hopeful.
A royal herald stepped forward, voice booming with enchantment:
> "BEHOLD! The prophecy has been fulfilled! The Hero foretold by the stars… the Chosen One of the Holy Blade… has ARRIVED!"
The people bowed. Some knelt. Others tossed petals into the air.
Ryota stood tall, a smug grin spreading across his face. He raised the sword into the air, letting it catch the sunlight like a beacon.
"So this is it, huh?" he muttered, letting the praise sink in. "Told you all I was special."
He turned to glance at the students behind him—some of whom had once laughed beside him in the classroom. They now looked at him with awe… and a hint of fear.
A young princess stepped forward, her eyes shimmering.
"Sir Ryota… you truly are the Hero of Light. You shall save our world from the Shadow King. All the people… they believe in you."
Ryota smirked, heart pounding with pride.
"Damn right they do," he said, flexing his grip on the sword. "I'm the strongest here. The chosen one. This world's lucky I showed up."
He turned toward the horizon, cloak fluttering dramatically.
"And when I find that nerd—Yuuto—if he's even alive… he'll kneel, too."
He laughed, long and loud.
Above him, the bells of Altheria rang in celebration.