Tina, the fire cat

"That you should bathe more often, old man. It's getting harder to tolerate as the days pass."

"Mind your own business," the guard snapped, and the children burst into laughter.

Peter stepped forward. "Then stand aside. We need to pass."

As they crossed paths, both muttered complaints under their breath.

"Little piglet."

"Smelly old man."

***

David asked, "Why are we visiting Rose?" once they passed the church.

"I heard she's getting married. I want to know to whom," Peter replied, glancing around the street.

At this hour, the village was mostly empty—most people had already left for their fields.

Peter did, however, spot Tina, Aunt Emilia's tamed creature—a fire-affinity cat species. He silently prayed for the unfortunate mouse she had her sights on, which would soon be roasted alive before being eaten.

Tina noticed them too but was clearly more interested in her hunt than playing with the children.

"Mhm, Mum told me that Uncle John took her to visit the nearby village in the south," Monica said, pulling twigs from her hair.

'I wonder what happened to that crush of hers…'

"So, she's leaving the village forever?" David asked, looking visibly disappointed.

'Aww…'

"Probably." Monica shrugged, clearly unbothered.

"What do we do then? We can't visit her if she's not here." Charles turned to Peter for his opinion.

"Well, we can play something. What do you all think?" Peter suggested. He wasn't against having some fun; he needed something to ease his anxiety.

Next month, Charles and Peter would be turning five. Birthdays weren't a big deal in this world, but the fifth one was important—it was when children gained access to their status window and learned if they had any inherent skills.

Both Charles and Peter were worried about it, though for different reasons.

Peter tried to be an optimist, but he had a lot of secrets. He was a reincarnated person, and so far, no one knew.

'I'd like to keep it that way.'

By using his skill from an early age, Peter had been actively increasing his mana capacity.

Even his skill itself—after years of diligently studying it—was far more impressive than he had initially thought.

IDE was his ticket to greatness, an overpowered cheat for sure.

He silently thanked whoever had bestowed it upon him.

'I'm afraid the powers that be wouldn't take kindly to an unknown kid growing stronger than them. That's why I spent years working on a grand project—to ensure my potential doesn't come back to bite me the moment my status is revealed.'

'Maybe I'm being overly paranoid. This isn't a Souls game, after all… but better to be prepared than caught off guard.'

Only time would tell if his efforts had paid off.

"Let's play The Princess and Her Knight then," David declared, deciding for all of them.

"Okay." Peter nodded before flashing Charles a mischievous grin. "You can be the princess this time instead of your sister, if you want."

Peter bolted in a random direction, laughing as Charles chased after him.

….

IDE was an amazing skill—if you knew how to use it. For someone without Peter's memories, though, it would be practically useless.

It allowed him to study, write, and edit skills within the system.

Over the years, Peter had been researching the system's built-in skill libraries using IDE. To him, The System appeared like an enormous, intricate piece of software.

A vast and complex program that he would probably never fully comprehend—and he didn't need to.

He wasn't particularly interested in dissecting its entire source code. What mattered was its skill library, a dedicated repository containing every skill that had ever existed.

With IDE, he could analyze these skills as lines of code, breaking them down in ways no one else could.

Of course, modifying the system's core source code was beyond his reach—and even if it weren't, he wouldn't risk making a change that could disrupt the system for every human connected to it.

But he could create personal Class blueprints, customizing skills to his liking.

Skills were usually rigid. A fireball, for example, consumed a fixed amount of mana, had a predetermined shape, size, and speed—all unchangeable under normal circumstances.

With IDE, though, Peter was starting to wonder… what if they didn't have to be?

Due to this, people preferred skills like Fire Manipulation over a simple Fireball. While Fireball was easy to use—automated to function as intended—Fire Manipulation offered more flexibility, allowing for creativity and adaptability in combat.

During his studies, Peter discovered an interesting perk of the system: it protected users from certain detection skills unless they were directly targeted.

That was probably the reason no one had come to murder him yet—assuming this world was as brutal as he feared, where those in power sought to eliminate anyone with too much potential.

He hoped that wasn't the case.

Regardless, he had been working on duplicating a personal version of a rare skill—one that would let him hide any abnormalities in his status screen.

Such a skill was extremely rare and not something one could easily acquire. Sure, weaker versions existed for those with the right means, but not this one.

If Peter's assumption was correct, skills like this couldn't simply be learned.

They could only be:

Inherited—granted at birth if one was lucky.

Acquired from a skill scroll—rare items found in dungeons.

And since Peter hadn't been born with it and had no access to skill scrolls, his only option was to recreate it himself—before his status was revealed for the world to see.

He had a massive advantage when it came to skills.

For most people, acquiring a skill required dedication and practice—a swordsman, for example, had to train diligently before unlocking Swordsmanship as a skill.

But Peter didn't have to.

He could simply copy an existing skill and create his own personalized version of it.

'Ugh… I really need to stop talking to myself like this,' Peter thought, picking up a cookie from the plate and taking a bite.

'So tasty… I definitely need to acquire the cooking skill at some point.'