Worldcryy

Braken was a broke, hungry 16-year-old rapper — surviving off scraps, ducking gunfire, and dreaming of a better life. One wrong step, and he caught a hundred bullets in the chest. But death wasn’t the end.

He wakes up in a new world… as a baby.
No electricity. No cities. Just mana, monsters, swords, and a wooden cabin in the slums.

Raised by an old woman who teaches him magic instead of math, Braken never forgets where he came from — or what he died chasing.

Now 12, he’s built his first gun in a world where guns don’t exist.
He’s enrolling in a magical academy full of nobles who look down on kids from the gutters.
But Braken? He don’t bend. He talks slick, hits hard, and moves like a street ninja.

From inventing mana-powered Dracos, to dodging nobles, peeking in bathhouses, and building underground fight clubs — Braken’s here to eat, win, and live like the king he never got to be.

gangster gets reincarnated into fantasy world

The next day after the caelis incident

They kicked him out like he was trash.

No warning. No ceremony. Just two armed enforcers and a scroll with a royal seal.

"By decree of the Noble House Caelis and the Academy Board, the outsider known as Braken shall be expelled from the Royal Training Academy for noble misconduct, endangerment of peer bloodlines, and seditious behavior unbecoming of a sponsored student."

Braken didn't flinch. Didn't argue. He stood at the gates with his half-burnt coat, a cracked mana pistol tucked into his belt, and a bag of scraps they let him keep — no food, no coin, just worn gloves and a slum-made medallion his grandma gave him before he died.

Behind him, students watched from the windows like cowards watching a beast get put down.

The road out of the capital academy grounds stretched long, dust blowing sideways in the morning wind. Braken walked alone, no guards, no destination. Just anger in his spine and silence in his chest.

He kept his eyes forward — until a voice called behind him.

Tali was standing at the gate. Backpack slung. Hair braided back. Tears still drying on her cheeks.

"They'll cut your sponsorship. You'll be a nobody—"

"I already was," she said. "I just pretended different."

Braken looked at her, really looked. Her eyes weren't afraid.

That hit something in him. Something deep. He looked away.

They walked side by side down the dirt road. The academy faded behind them like a bad dream.

They reached the outer farmlands by night. No inns. Just rotted fences and cold barns.

They slept under a half-collapsed hay shelter. No fire. Just breath misting in the dark.

"I heard Caelis' family has political reach all the way to the Council of Rings," Tali whispered. "That's why the board didn't hesitate. They didn't care who was right."

Braken lay still, staring up at the cracked beams. "It ain't about right. It's about who can bend the world harder."

Braken exhaled through his nose. "I heard stories about the South District. Old combat rings. Independent guilds. No crests, no lineages, just reputation."

Tali nodded, then whispered: "You think we'll survive?"

Braken smiled in the dark. "We already did."

The next week tested every step of that claim.

No money meant begging or stealing. Braken did both — once robbing a bandit gang that tried to extort Tali near a forest bend. His magic was too weak to cast fully — but his fists? They still worked.

Tali covered him when his ribs were bruised, made poultices from weeds, and kept lookout when he couldn't move.

By the time they reached Southdell, they were hungry, limping, and covered in rain.

And when they stepped into the muddy plaza, past iron-forged signs and half-ruined guild boards, Braken stopped walking.

He looked at the crumbling city of exiles, mercs, and fallen nobles.

"This," he whispered, "is where kings are born."

Chapter 6 “Kings are born”