Sixteen ways to live your life

Was this the first time I reincarnated, I wondered? My memories were only of my previous life as an ordinary human, so the idea of choosing a class for the rest of my existence in this new place unsettled me. Being an ordinary human back then, nothing I learned there seemed to serve my decision. I needed to keep learning and studying; I was in a race against time that would inevitably lead me to make a choice. The idea of staying as a villager, living a peaceful life where nothing happened, didn't sound entertaining to me, especially since I had already experienced something similar in the past.

I was grateful that no one could hear my thoughts, as my obsession with growing in power, uncovering every surrounding secret, and of course, the imminent fact that being an Outsider motivated me the most, repeated itself in my mind. Perhaps my ego grew by knowing I was chosen from many to come to this world, which led me to believe there was a reason for it. What seemed to stand out the most was the existence of factions. I had to find out what lay beyond the limits. I ended up becoming the protagonist of the stories I loved to write, with a goal to accomplish, convinced that there was a reason behind my reincarnation, and thirsty for knowledge and power. I had no choice but to move forward.

The NPC master explained the eight classes and subdivisions in detail to me. Each of the main classes was divided into two specializations, making a total of sixteen possibilities when choosing. If a subclass appealed to me more than the class itself, I had to reconsider my choice since there wouldn't be a reset. The Guardian class could specialize as a Paladin or Barbarian. The Fighter class could become a Samurai or Monk, the Rogue class could branch into Ronin or Ninja, and the Ranger class could become an Archer or Artificer. The core component of these classes was physical. Depending on the specialization, one could equip either one or two weapons.

Now, the classes with a stronger magical component were divided as follows: the Wizard class could become an Enchanter or Necromancer, the Elementalist class could specialize in Darkness or Light, the Druid class had the options of Summoner or Shapeshifter, and the most intriguing one for me was the Bard class, which could specialize in two musical instruments. One was the Biwa, a kind of lute, and the other was the Kokyū, resembling a violin.

To be honest, I found something appealing in each of them. I felt like a kid in a candy store trying to decide which candy to try. Although the physical abilities had their charm, I couldn't get my mind off the magical ones. I fantasized about all the possibilities that being a Necromancer, a Shapeshifter, or a Darkness Elementalist could offer. I understood why the logbook didn't provide this information; it was overwhelming. Learning this information had unlocked a new obsession. It was incredible to see how organized this world was – I couldn't choose a subclass until I had lived sufficiently with the base class and had even reached an intermediate level in all six existing professions.

I bid farewell to the NPC, longing for the age when I could make my first significant choice. This thought would linger in my mind for the ten years left until the class selection ceremony. The system rewarded me with an achievement for discovering the subclasses, reminding me that I was living in a world akin to a video game, where completing more and more quests would lead me to answers to the many questions swirling in my mind.

Back at the orphanage, I said my goodbyes to the kitchen staff, the other children I shared a room with, and then lay back on my bed. I considered opening the user interface, causing it to appear before my eyes. In the top left circle, I saw my own reflection. The first time I saw the HUD, it had been a bit shocking, so I hadn't paid much attention to my physical appearance. My eyes were large and the same light green as my hair. My nose was straight and somewhat long, ending in a slightly upturned tip. The shape and thinness of my mouth gave me a somewhat serious expression for my five years of life. I chuckled at the thought that my orphanage clothes, which made me look almost uniformed with the other children, gave no indication of belonging to the bearer of the pseudonym "Child Prodigy." Eventually, this would change, and that made me excited.

My name was quite generic, which didn't add any sense of epicness. But that was my greatest duality – needing to hide to avoid suspicion or, on the contrary, wanting to be seen and live up to my nickname. Reincarnation certainly came with some serious mental quandaries. Meditation sometimes helped for a while, then I was back amidst all this madness that fueled my fantasies. For some inexplicable reason, I couldn't recall the name I carried in my past life. Not that it would have served me in this new environment with strong Asian influences, so different from my country of origin.

I recalled my school days, devouring every book that crossed my path, which led me to dream of becoming a writer someday. Then images of my time in university came to mind, where I had managed to publish a few short pieces, eventually culminating in my own novel. My life revolved around imagining, dreaming, and then putting it all down on paper. I did it more for myself, not expecting anyone else to read it. Even when I published fragments of my stories from a very young age, my works were displayed like art in exhibitions within the university's literature building. Maybe it was during one of those occasions that the girl got to know my work, leading her to read my first novel.

Here I am again, pondering what might have become of that person who showed interest in what I did when I was just an introvert who couldn't take my eyes off the words in front of me.

In this new world, books were scarce. There was a well-preserved library in the middle of the village, even the royalty gathered there to make important decisions. The historical weight of that place must have been immense, which greatly appealed to me. I read and learned from the few books I had access to in the orphanage, earning a couple of achievements along the way. The only reason I hadn't been to the library yet was that I was afraid of not finding anything useful and feeling disheartened about the place that captivated me the most.

Essentially, I was still the same bookworm, which would eventually guide my decision towards a specific class. With this, I would transition from a creator and spectator to being the hero of a story. It was up to me to ensure that it ended in the best way possible, and for that, I needed all the knowledge and power available.

As I visualized the cover of my novel in my mind, my name was censored. This indicated that whoever brought me here didn't want me to remember that detail. The advantage of this RPG world was that I could change my name, although only once. I didn't want to change it at that moment and regret it later. Not every day do we have the chance to choose what we want to be called for the rest of our lives, so that day wasn't the right one to make such a crucial decision.