Chapter 0: Prologue

My name is Shino Fujiyama. I loved firearms more than anything else. Because of my obsession with FPS games, my curiosity eventually pushed me to touch a real weapon. I had no choice but to fly to America, determined to experience the real thing.

At a firing range, I met an instructor—a former USMC veteran. He taught me many things about weapons.

“Remember, kid. A gun can’t always protect you. Sometimes, it’s the closest danger you’ll ever face.” the old veteran said.

I understood what he meant. He even gave me several magazines about military principles. I studied everything he shared with me… until the day the incident happened.

I was testing a grenade. I pulled the pin, and in a split second, it exploded right in front of me.

I died instantly.

When I closed my eyes, there was only emptiness. No time, no space. I didn’t care whether I went to heaven or hell—at least I had fulfilled my dream of holding real weapons.

But then, I heard a woman’s pained voice. I told her to calm down, and before I realized it, I was being pushed out from a woman’s womb—reborn as a baby.

“Look at him, so sweet. He looks just like you, dear.” my new mother said.

Both of them were happy, while I was shocked.

What? How is this possible? Is this what people in RPG and anime call reincarnation? Am I going to be the main character?

My new parents named me Mikael Yuri, and from that day on, everyone called me “Yuri.”

By the time I turned one year old, I could already walk. My parents were overjoyed. When I turned seven, I entered elementary school. I thought bullying was only something from my old world—but it existed here too.

“Yuri, hand over your money or we’ll beat you up.” said the fat noble boy who kept pestering me.

I avoided him as long as I could, until one day he tried to hit me. I took out my slingshot pistol—my first invention.

“What’s that? Don’t tell me you made that ridiculous thing, Yuri.”

They laughed—until I fired it, hitting the fat boy right in the face.

“Oww! It hurts! Mom, help!”

Later, his parents confronted mine. My father defended me.

“Kids fight. It’s normal.”

“Normal? He fights like an adult who knows how to hurt someone!”

Arguments continued. Years passed.

At twelve, I entered middle school. I excelled, especially in mathematics, because I studied weapon velocity and accuracy. My teachers were impressed, and my parents were proud.

But that happiness didn’t last.

My parents fought—terribly. My mother accused my father of cheating with one of my teachers, while my father denied everything. I prayed they would return to how they used to be.

They didn’t.

They separated without telling me. And they left something behind on the table—a letter summarizing all the debt they dumped on me.

I became the victim of their mistakes.

By twenty, without graduating high school, I sold fruits and vegetables to survive and pay off debts. One day, a group of thugs destroyed my stall.

“Kid, pay the protection fee!”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have money yet. I promise I’ll pay next time—”
“Promises? You said that last week!”

BRAAK!
They kicked and smashed everything. People watched, but no one helped.

I returned to my old mansion and sat alone until a voice startled me.

“Why don’t you just use the magic ‘Creation Authority’?”

“That voice… Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Calm down, young one. I’m here to help you. I’m the goddess who brought you here. I’m sorry for not explaining earlier.”

“A goddess?”

“This world has been abandoned by the gods. There is no hope left. I need your help to maintain balance.”

The goddess had long brown hair and green eyes. She looked far too young and too tired to handle such a burden.

“Let me unlock your ‘Creation Authority’. With this, you may create anything you desire.”

With a snap of her fingers, light surged through me.

“If you need me, just call. I really have to go now.”

She vanished, clearly exhausted.

I immediately tested the magic.

“Creation Authority.”

My mansion became spotless. Then I imagined electricity and lamps—the house lit up brighter than anything in this medieval world.

Unable to sleep, I created a swimming pool, a garden, fountains. Birds gathered and bathed happily.

Then a thought struck me.

Could I create a weapon?

“Creation Authority.”

I imagined a Glock pistol, complete with ammunition.

Please work. Please work.

It appeared in my hands.

I loaded a magazine and fired.

DOOR
DOOR
DOOR

Perfect.

“Starting today, you’re my guardian.”

The next morning, I went back to selling goods. The thugs returned with the same threats.

I drew my pistol.

SHOOT
A bullet grazed one thug’s cheek.

“Boss, what happened!?”
“It hurts!”

“Who’s next?”

“Damn brat! I’ll kill you—”

SHOOT
A bullet hit his leg. He screamed in agony.

“Please, Yuri! Forgive us!”
“Forgive you? After everything you’ve done? Don’t joke with me.”

I pressed his wound until he screamed again.

“Leave this city. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

I treated their wounds, and they ran away from Ponchiki City.

The townspeople were delighted. Some even called me a hero, but I hated that title.

Then an idea came.

Maybe… I should just become a weapons dealer.