I Refused To Be Reincarnated

"Another boring day is starting,"

Adam yawned, opening his sleepy eyes.

As usual, he stretched his limbs, or so he thought.

His brows creased in deep frown. Something was wrong... incredibly wrong...

"What the heck is happening? Why can't I sense my body?"

His voice thundered in the dimly lit room, and his pupils constricted.

Terror gripped his heart as he imagined the worst. Did he unknowingly die during his sleep? He didn't know. But he couldn't remain motionless. His brain refused to accept it.

Clenching his teeth, he exerted his mental strength despite his insecurities, gradually sensing the faint nervous connection linking his limbs to his brain... or so he thought.

Focusing even harder, a subtle movement came from his head. Well… what he perceived as his head.

With some effort, he finally lowered it, staring at his body as a wave of pure shock crashed against his soul. His transparent frame floated weakly above the ground as if it had no consistency, making his mouth open and close a few times before words finally left it.

"I hope I'm still dreaming. It's not fun at all. Oho, wake up..."

"..." "..." "..."

"AHHH! Did I become a ghost? Is this for real? Why, just why?" He screamed, his features distorting into a panicked grimace.

"Waaaaah! Waaaaaah!"

Sudden cries startled and distracted him from his dread. With a pensive frown, he gazed in their direction, noticing a toddler lying in an improvised crib.

'Did my screams awaken him?'

Well, it didn't really matter anyway. However, his eyes lit up the next second. Recalling human folklore about ghosts, he could use the baby to confirm if he became one. Since they were typically invisible and intangible, people weren't supposed to hear them, except for evil ones. So, didn't that mean...

"Maybe I'm not a ghost!" He exclaimed, his soul shuddering as he extended his hand, praying he could touch it.

"Yes! I can feel his hot skin! Sorry for scaring you!"

Hope transformed into delight as his luminous eyes fell upon the toddler. He sighed in relief, his tensed nerves relaxing before he pondered the situation.

"Where am I? Why am I here instead of in my apartment? And what is that red blinking light in the corner of my field of view?"

He scanned his surroundings, seeking answers and ignoring the baby.

Soon, he realised he stood... floated inside a living room. Green patches of spreading rot covered the old, fissured walls. Dust filled the dirty room's floor and scant furniture as if no one had cleaned the house for months. A lonely table, two chairs, and the cradle decorated it, showcasing the poverty of the habitat.

With the dim lighting filtering through old curtains, the place met all the criteria to be deemed ominous and filthy. The stench alone made him recoil in disgust.

'I must leave!'

The idea boomed in his head, compelling him into action the next second. Floating towards the door with difficulty, he extended his hand to open it. Unfortunately, his fingers phased right through the handle, causing a displeased frown to grace his brows.

"Nothing makes sense!"

Faced with the irrefutable truth of his predicament, his mind subconsciously tried to adapt and accept this new reality. Even if he consciously denied it with all his strength.

"I can try to phase through it, then."

Acting on his idea, he propelled himself forward.

BAM!

The disturbing noise of wood cracking echoed in the living room as he crashed onto it, nose-first, before colliding with the ground, raising a cloud of dust around him.

"ARGH! How the heck can I feel pain as a ghost? How can my fingers go through the handle, but my body can't pass through the door? What kind of flawed logic is that? Stop messing with me!" He screamed, his voice a mix of anger and pain as he gritted his ethereal teeth, imagining his blood boiling.

After a deep exhale, he recovered his calm. He had to stay rational to figure things out. Or, at least, as lucid as possible after his inexplicable transformation into a ghost.

For the next few minutes, he pondered and tried to phase through the walls and ceiling, in vain.

"Let's check the blinking thing, I guess," he muttered, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he focused on the light flashing in the corner of his eyes.

'How do I make it stop? It's exasperating! Is it controlled verbally?' He pondered, remembering stories he used to read to pass the time.

"Stop blinking. Turn off. Eteins. Ugh, even foreign languages aren't working. Let's try some more random words."

After a few minutes of unsuccessful attempts and some curses to vent, he finally triggered a reaction.

"Interface."

An ethereal window popped in front of his widening eyes as soon as he pronounced the word.

After a brief loading, rows of text appeared in the middle, startling him.

[Welcome summoned! This is your personal system interface. An exclusive informational tool at your disposal. Here, you can check the different paths you can tread to reach your full potential and become the strongest in the shortest time possible.]

[Loading available paths...]

His eyes narrowed in intense focus, anticipating the result with excitement. The strongest according to his potential? Could he grow to be as strong as a professional fighter? Could he even surpass them?

"What's the part about summoned, though?" He asked, scratching his head in confusion. Another question he had no answer to.

[Error detected...]

[Individual is not thirteen yet.]

[Protocol to forcefully seal memories initiated.]

[Error. No body detected. Sealing process interrupted.]

[Searching for fix...]

[Fix found. Wait thirteen years to erase and take the intended body's consciousness space instead of merging memories as planned, or become an acolyte.]

[Good luck in your new life.]

"What the hell was that? What do you mean, good luck? Explain this whole mess in more detail!"

After a second of shock, he lashed out at the system, his teeth cracking under his anger. What sealing? What body?

"I knew someone was messing with me. Whoever wrote those messages: wait for me, I will find you."

Sadly, the system remained silent. After all, it was an informative tool, not a conversation buddy.

Still, cursing imaginary beings helped vent his irritation and restore his ragged breathing.

After recovering his bearings, his brows creased into a furrow. If he understood everything correctly, he was supposed to reincarnate in the crying baby, which was the intended body mentioned by the system. However, something went inexplicably wrong.

"I'll have to wait for it to turn thirteen… Thirteen years... I want to cry..." He said, face downcast and tremors shaking his soul.

'I should at least check the information provided by this system...' He thought, trying to distract his growing confusion and chase away the despair encroaching on his core.

Name: Adam

Talent: Unlocked at thirteen

Class: N/A

LVL (Level): 0

Exp: 0/10

HP (health point): 0/0

Vitality: 0

Strength: 0

Agility: 0

Intelligence: 0

Skills: None

Note: Soul is heavily damaged. How are you even alive?

"Is the note supposed to guide me by pointing out where I'm lacking?" He pondered before adding. "What a sad sight... Zero everywhere. Well, at least my stats are well-balanced."

He tried to find humour in his terrible situation, even though he didn't grasp the notion of his soul being damaged. How and when did it happen? Why did he feel nothing wrong? Another mystery he would need to uncover.

After refocusing on the interface, he said, "It reminds me of a character sheet in role-playing games."

He remembered that "Exp" stood for experience points, crucial for leveling up. "Health points" represented his life... well, he was already dead somehow.

"Vitality" related to endurance and maximum HP, while "Strength" impacted his muscle prowess and body strength. Finally, "Agility" had to do with reaction speed and coordination.

Then, he pondered about intelligence. It made sense for his other stats to be at zero, but not for this one. Or was he the most stupid human... ghost?

"Don't tell me it has nothing to do with cognitive ability but is something related to..."

The echo of his words hung in the air, momentarily interrupted by the metallic click of the door unlocking.

Soon, the figure of a young woman wearing shabby clothes greeted his eyes. He gazed at her running figure as she cradled and nursed the crying baby tenderly, unaware of his presence.

He estimated she was younger than twenty as he gazed at her long brown hair tied in a ponytail, hazel eyes and beautiful face hidden behind dirt patches.

*"Don't cry, baby. Mama is here. Are you hungry? Are you cold? You have to sleep so Mama can work,"* she said, her tender eyes lingering on her son under the ghost's confused expression.

"Shit. I can't understand a single word," he muttered, his eyes glowing with irritation at the thought of learning a new language from scratch. The bad news kept stacking up, annoying him to no end.

As he glanced at the duo, seeking to collect more information, he noticed the woman delicately undressed to feed her baby with a tender smile. Hurriedly, he turned his head to the side, a flicker of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

After five minutes of nursing and a full belly, the baby fell asleep again, eliciting a sigh of relief from his mother.

She put a few items on the table before silently leaving the house, locking the door behind. Not a single time did she look in his direction, oblivious to his presence until the end.

The realisation struck him like a hammer, forcing him to accept this new reality. Despite his reluctance, the situation left no place for doubt. He was a ghost. Yet before despair invaded his soul entirely, he found solace in the prospect of recovering a body in the future.

After a moment of stupefaction, he distracted himself from the depressing thought and floated towards the table to check the items left behind by the woman.

His eyes sparkled as he saw a pouch and a hand mirror facing the ceiling.

"I wonder if I still look the same or if I became an ugly ghost," he said, hope reigniting in his chest. After all, if he retained his appearance, he could accept his condition with less difficulty.

He floated above the shining piece of glass, eager to see his reflection, before cursing. On the bright side, he didn't see the ugly ghost he dreaded. However, that was only the case because he lacked any reflection whatsoever!

He lowered his head in defeat. Nothing went his way since his awakening, and he didn't want to get upset anymore.

Moreover, he had to avoid disturbing the baby's sleep since it was a crucial part of growth, and he wanted his future body to develop well.

Upon reaching this thought, he pondered about the possession process. Who or what was inside it in his stead? Would he be murdering someone if he reclaimed it later?

Stumped by the moral questions and his mind weary by the revelations and negative emotions, he floated to a clean corner and closed his eyes. He had to refresh his mind after everything he went through, or his thought process would be impaired.

As his thoughts blurred, a bizarre yet gentle sensation embraced his soul, as if cradling it before moving it somewhere with care.

******

Alarmed, he snapped his eyes open in confusion.

However, they lit up the next second. He was in a familiar place this time. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he scanned his apartment with a soft smile.

Yet, the recent traumatic experience took a toll on his mind, making him doubt everything. Tentatively, he stretched his limbs to confirm he was really back, afraid of the result.

"YES!"

A wide grin stretched across his face as they answered his commands, moving without trouble. Then, he lowered his head, glancing at his arms and burst into laughter as he saw his skin glowing a healthy hue.

"Hahaha. I knew it was a dream!"

He took a triumphant pose, his arms raised in the air and fists clenched tightly. Memories of the silly dream flooded his mind as a mocking smirk stretched his lips. How could he have been so engrossed in it?

Amused, he walked to his mirror. Instead of nothing, he saw a thirty-year-old man with short, dark brown hair and eyes this time.

He gazed at his well-maintained body, noticing his defined muscles. He exercised daily, so his physique was fit despite his 82 kg for 1.8 meters. Then, at his grinning face. He was not the most attractive man according to standards, but he was still handsome and manly.

After his quick inspection, he scanned his well-organised apartment with a sense of pride. He hated nothing more than to live in a messy place. Whether it was his clothes, desk, or floor, everything sparkled.

Then, he glanced at his library in approbation. Born in an age of technology and virtual entertainment, he enjoyed reading mangas and novels, especially the ones about cultivation.

He liked to follow the journey of weak protagonists, surmounting difficulties and challenges until they finally become strong and achieve their goals.

Upon reaching this thought, he remembered the system's message with a playful smile.

"Even if it was a dream, what if that system thing was real? How cool would it be to become stronger with the help of an interf..."

His eyes widened in shock the next moment as the ethereal status window suddenly appeared as if summoned by his words.

"So this is the dream..."

As he muttered, the baby's cries resounded in his ears, forcing him awake.

"Oh shit, here we go again."

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