Starting as G but my mana is ???

Pain.

A dull, aching sensation crawls through my limbs, radiating from the base of my spine all the way to my fingertips. My eyelids feel heavy, like they've been glued shut for days. I try to move, but the moment I shift—

THUD.

My body collapses onto the cold, wooden floor.

For a moment, I just lay there, stunned, cheek pressed against the hard surface as I process what just happened.

What the hell?

I just woke up, and I've already hit rock bottom—literally.

I groan, pushing my arms against the floor, but my limbs tremble like I've never used them before. My breath comes in short, uneven gasps.

My muscles feel… wrong.

Weak. Absurdly weak.

"What the actual hell is this?" I mutter, my voice rasping from disuse.

This body is fragile. Too light. The slightest movement makes my limbs shake like a newborn foal. I grit my teeth, dragging in a breath before forcing myself up. My fingers scrabble for something—anything—to support me.

My hand finally catches the edge of a nearby wooden table. With a hiss, I heave myself up, arms straining against the effort. My legs wobble, knees threatening to buckle, but I grit my teeth and refuse to fall again.

Slowly—agonizingly slowly—I stand.

My breathing is ragged, my heart hammering as if I just ran a marathon.

This isn't normal.

I look down at myself, blinking rapidly as my brain registers the differences.

Gone are my familiar limbs, the ones toned from years of engineering work and the gym session. Instead, I'm smaller. Lean, but not weak—a warrior's build, shaped by discipline and combat rather than neglect.

But the height. My eye twitches.

Why the hell am I shorter?!

I raise my hand, pressing it to the top of my head as if that will somehow make the height difference disappear. It doesn't.

I must have lost at least five centimeters. I was barely 175cm last time man. 

Now I get NERFED!?

"Oh, you got to be kidding me."

And then I see my reflection.

A tall, antique mirror sits against the far wall, its polished surface catching the glow of afternoon sunlight. I stare, expecting to see my usual tired face—brunette hair in a messy ponytail, dull brown eyes, the lingering signs of exhaustion permanently etched into my features.

But the person staring back at me is not Vance Ross.

White hair. Not silver, not platinum blonde—white. It cascades over my shoulders in soft waves, unnervingly pristine.

Grey eyes, stormy and sharp.

Pale skin, unmarred and smooth, nothing like the slightly tanned complexion I had before.

I don't look like me but hey at least I'm still a man..

I look at my chest to just double confirm.

Nope flat like an ironing board.

I inhale sharply, gripping the edge of the table like it's the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

This is real. This body, this room, this entire absurd situation—it's real.

Speaking of the room—

I finally take a moment to look around.

The space is large but minimalist, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through wide, arched windows. Heavy curtains, a deep shade of navy, are partially drawn back, allowing light to spill across the polished wooden floor.

The walls are lined with intricate bookshelves, filled to the brim with leather-bound tomes. A grand oak desk sits near the window, covered in neatly arranged parchment, an inkpot, and a sleek, silver mechanical device—something that looks suspiciously like a typewriter, but sleeker, more refined.

A bed sits against the far wall—large, ornate, draped in soft, dark fabrics that look ridiculously expensive.

The furniture is a strange mix of historical and advanced technology. The architecture screams 1900s aristocracy, but the presence of sleek mechanical devices hints at something more… evolved.

A fantasy world, but with technology that doesn't quite belong. 

Interesting.

My fingers brush against the smooth wooden table again, grounding myself as I take everything in.

I exhale slowly. I'm in someone else's body. In an unfamiliar world.

And for some reason, I am now Christian Arkwright from the memories I have from this body and whatever that mumbo jumbo was earlier.

I close my eyes and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

That notification thingy is gone. No floating screens, no ominous text, nothing. I wonder if I can call it back?

I mean, I've read enough manga and manhwa online to know how these things usually go. What else was I supposed to do with my free time? It's not like I had friends to hang out with, and my ex—before I caught her cheating—was always 'too busy with work.' My bad for thinking the best of people.

"Alright… SYSTEM."

Nothing.

I frown. "Status? Menu? Open Interface? Uh… Game Log?"

Still nothing. Not even a flicker.

Okay. Rude.

I sigh and tap my chin. Maybe it's voice-locked or something? I did take Chinese in university—worth a shot, right?

"系统? (Xìtǒng?)"

Nothing.

"菜单? 状态? (Càidān? Zhuàngtài?)"

Still nothing.

I groan, rubbing my forehead. "Seriously? Come on, I know how these stories go. I should have some kind of fancy UI or floating text!"

I try to think back to what the system was doing earlier.

It had a name… Genesis System.

"Genesis?"

Ding.

A bright light flashes before me, and suddenly, a familiar floating screen appears.

I blink rapidly, adjusting to the sudden glow. The screen hovers in front of me, semi-transparent with sleek golden text that pulses faintly against a dark background. It looks almost like a futuristic interface—clean, minimalistic, but undeniably magical.

[Welcome, Administrator.]

I shift on my feet, finally standing properly. The screen moves with me, floating effortlessly at eye level like it's tethered to my vision. I take a cautious step forward. It follows.

Weird.

Curious, I walk towards the antique mirror across the room. I angle my head, watching the reflection—only to feel a cold chill crawl up my spine.

The system doesn't reflect back.

I wave a hand through the air where the screen should be, but the mirror only shows me—pale skin, white hair, stormy grey eyes—nothing else.

"Oh, great. I must be schizo or something" I mutter under my breath.

[That's rude.]

I freeze. My jaw slowly drops as I stare at the words now flashing across the screen.

Did… did the system just talk back?

[Yes.]

I swallow hard. 

Okay. Cool. No big deal. Just a floating, telepathic system that can apparently read my thoughts. Yep totally normal.

"Well, uh… how do I see my info and stuff?" I ask hesitantly, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

"I did see some magic thingy earlier—was that really real?"

[Indeed. Magic is an innate ability in this world, though not everyone is capable of wielding it. Your current body possesses remarkable magical potential.]

I narrow my eyes at the glowing text. "Right… So, does that mean I can throw fireballs or something? Or do I have to go find some ancient wizard to unlock my 'true potential'?"

[Your abilities are unique to you. Would you like to view your status?]

I cross my arms. "Took you long enough to offer. Yes, show me my status."

[To access your status directly in the future, simply say 'Genesis Status' instead of navigating through the menu.]

I hum in thought. "Huh. That's kind of like a shortcut… reminds me of using apps back home."

As the thought settles, my gaze flicks to the newly displayed screen. My brows furrow as I read through it, taking in every bit of information.

Name: Christian Arkwright

Height: 170 cm Age: 20 Blood Type: O-

Potential: EX

My brain screeches to a halt. "EX potential?" I mutter under my breath.

I've played enough mobile MMORPGs to know that SSS-tier is usually the best, but EX?

What even is that?

"Hey, system, what does EX rank mean? Is this like… a secret god-tier thing?" I ask, crossing my arms.

The system remains silent.

[...]

I blink. "Oh, don't tell me. You don't know, do you?"

[This system lacks comparative knowledge of 'mobile games.']

I scoff. "Oh, really? You appear out of nowhere looking like something out of a futuristic sci-fi movie, floating in midair, probably more advanced than any computer back home—but a mobile game is where you draw the line?!"

[This system is not required to retain knowledge of unnecessary entertainment data.]

I gape at the text. Did it just call mobile games unnecessary? 

"Excuse me?! You literally function like a game interface! How the hell do you not know what a mobile game is?!"

[INVALID QUERY.]

The text suddenly expands, glowing bigger, bolder, and almost blinding, as if the system is shouting back at me.

[THE GENESIS SYSTEM DOES NOT CONCERN ITSELF WITH TRIVIAL FORMS OF HUMAN ENTERTAINMENT.]

I let out a defeated sigh, rubbing my face "Fine, whatever. Not like arguing with you is gonna change anything. Let's just see my stats."

My eyes scan the screen, and then—

Rank: G

I blink. Squint. Rub my eyes.

Nope, still says G.

"Wait… G? Lower than F? Are you serious?!" My voice rises in disbelief. 

"You're telling me I have EX potential, but I'm stuck at the lowest rank possible?!"

The system, in what I can only describe as the most mockingly indifferent way possible, flashes a tiny [Shrug] notification.

My eye twitches. "Oh, you little—"

I drag my attention back to the screen, scrolling down. My abilities section comes into view.

Abilities:

Creation Magic - [???????????]

Spatial Manipulation - [???????????]

Locked

Locked

Locked

I exhale, staring at the question marks like they personally offended me. 

"You've got to be kidding me. Even my abilities are keeping secrets?"

Then, at the bottom left corner of the screen, small text flickers into existence.

[To learn more about an ability, simply ask Genesis.]

''Huh. Well, let's try this. Genesis, what does Creation Magic do?''

[Creation Magic is a highly specialized form of magic allowing the manifestation of matter, concepts, or energy. However, its full capabilities are currently unknown due to user rank limitations.]

I narrow my eyes. "That's just a fancy way of saying, 'I don't know either,' huh?"

[If your deduction is correct, I will confirm it. Otherwise, I will deny it.]

I straighten slightly, my engineering brain kicking into gear. "Alright, so if I can manifest matter, does that mean I can create objects from thin air? Like, say, a chair?"

[Affirmative.]

I blink. Okay, that's a start.

"What about… food? Could I conjure a meal?"

[Affirmative, with sufficient understanding of its structure.]

My fingers tap against my arm. "And people? Could I—wait, no, that's basically necromancy, isn't it?"

[Negative. Creation Magic does not extend to replicating living beings.]

I exhale, nodding slowly. "Got it. So it's basically material transmutation with some added flexibility?"

[Correct.]

I smirk. "See? Was that so hard?"

"Alright, next question—Genesis, what does Spatial Manipulation do?"

[Spatial Manipulation allows for the control, distortion, and restructuring of space itself. This includes, but is not limited to: teleportation, spatial storage, dimensional folding, and localized gravitational shifts.]

I stare at the screen, blinking slowly. "That sounds… completely broken."

[It is highly advanced magic requiring precise control. At your current rank, only basic applications are available.]

I rub my hands. "Right. Because warping space itself is apparently basic."

The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. The concept of manipulating space—as in, physically altering dimensions and distances—shouldn't even be possible. Back in my world, the closest thing to spatial distortion was quantum mechanics, and even that was theoretical at best. This is on an entirely different level.

"So, let me get this straight. I can bend space, create pocket dimensions, and maybe even mess with gravity?"

[Affirmative.]

I exhale, trying to process this. "Yeah, sure. No big deal. Just casually breaking the laws of physics. Totally normal."

[Your understanding is limited by prior knowledge from an inferior world. Adaptation is required.]

I scowl at the screen. "Did you just call my world inferior?"

[Statement: Factual.]

I roll my eyes, deciding to move on before this system finds another way to insult me. My eyes drift down to my stats section, hoping for something—anything—that makes up for my garbage rank.

Attack: G

I clench my jaw. Seriously? Even my attack stat is bottom-tier?

Defense: G-

I choke. Negative G?! Is that even possible?! How am I supposed to survive with negative defense?!

And then my gaze lands on the final stat.

Mana: ???

I pause, tilting my head. "Wait, what's with the question marks?"

The system, as if sensing my confusion, flashes another [Shrug] notification.

"You have got to be kidding me" I groan.

 "So you can rank everything else but not my mana? What, did your system break?"