Kevin Grant looked like the kind of guy you'd pass on the street without a second glance. Average face. Pale skin, black hair, brown eyes—nothing that stood out. No striking features to set him apart.
The only thing Kevin had going for him?
He was a C-Rank Hunter.
C-Rank Hunters weren't top-tier, but they could take on an orc one-on-one and walk away, though it'd be a rough fight.
And why was that considered a redeeming quality?
Because even Hunters at that level made decent money. Kevin pulled in around $10 million a year. Of course, thanks to the insane inflation caused by the whole "monsters everywhere" situation, that was only worth about as much as $100K used to be—back before the monster crisis tanked the economy.
Still, that was nothing to scoff at.
With that kind of income, Kevin could afford a decent apartment, eat good food—borderline luxurious. Life wasn't glamorous, but it was comfortable. Stable. Predictable.
Today, though, was his day off. He'd just finished clearing a C-Rank dungeon with his guild, and with no jobs lined up for the next two weeks, he had some rare free time on his hands.
So, he decided to finally play a game he'd been eyeing for a while.
Aethereon.
Aethereon was one of those legendary titles. It had been remade three times already, each followed by at least five remastered editions. And God knows how many times it had been re-released under slightly tweaked names—Aethereon: Definitive, Aethereon: Eternal Edition, Aethereon HD Redux... you get the idea. It was the studio's flagship IP—and, honestly, their only successful one. Naturally, they milked it dry.
But Kevin didn't mind. Hype or not, he'd always been curious. Classic medieval fantasy. Knights, mages, dragons. A total escape from a world filled with monsters and dungeons.
Exactly what he needed.
Trading real-life monster slaying for digital monster slaying? Perfect.
Kevin had only ever played the very first Aethereon, way back before all the remakes and remasters. He was seven at the time—so, twenty-five years ago. He barely remembered anything beyond vague bits and pieces.
The game was about some peasant-turned-hero, if he remembered right. It revolved around a magical academy, also called Aethereon, where you played as a commoner kid with big dreams. Classic underdog stuff. In the end, the kid became some great hero or savior.
Or something like that. Kevin didn't really remember the details—probably too focused on swinging swords and spamming fireballs to care about the plot back then.
All he knew was, it was nostalgic. And now, with the newest remake out and two weeks of free time, he figured: why not?
Thankfully, the devs tried to keep things fresh with each version. Instead of forcing players to replay the same story, they added new features—like letting you control the key NPCs who supported the main character's journey or add a new features like Matrial Arts that add more variation into the combat mechanic.
And now, in the fourth remake, they'd gone all out.
This time, you could create your own custom character. Appearance, traits, backstory—you had complete freedom. You could help the main character reach their destiny, or go full villain and sabotage the entire thing.
It wasn't just a game anymore. It was a fully interactive fantasy sandbox.
Or at least, that's what the ad said.
Kevin booted up the game, skipped the flashy cinematic, and dove straight into character creation.
This was the fun part.
The screen faded into a glowing chamber—floating runes, dramatic music, and a giant mirror suspended in midair. Classic fantasy aesthetic. A deep voice boomed from nowhere, something about "destiny" and "shaping your fate," but Kevin immediately tuned it out.
"All right," he muttered.
Time to get to work.
Name?
Just his own. Kevin Grant. Keep it simple.
Appearance.
Spiky blonde hair that defied gravity? Check.
Bright blue eyes that practically glowed? Check.
A jawline sharp enough to cut steel, flawless skin, and muscles carved from digital marble? Check, check, and check.
He zoomed in, rotated the model, admired his masterpiece, and grinned.
Next up: traits.
There was no difficulty slider in Aethereon. Traits were the difficulty setting.
Some gave you serious power—stuff like bonus EXP, double damage, or learn high level magic since the beginning.
Others?
They existed to ruin your day.
Traits worked on a balancing system. You got one good trait for free. Every extra good trait required a bad trait to match it. No hard limit—just keep it balanced.
There were twenty good traits and twenty bad ones in total.
If you were feeling masochistic, you could stack all the bad ones with no upside. No one knew why that was even an option.
Or you could just turn on Cheat Mode.
That let you pick all the good traits with zero penalty.
The catch? No achievements, no leaderboard scores, and your save got stamped with a gold star that basically screamed: This player cheated.
Kevin hovered over the button for a moment. Tempting. But nah.
He had his pride.
He picked three solid good traits:
Iron Will – Immune to all mental effects.
Prodigy – 150% EXP gain.
Noble Born – Wealthy and influential from the start.
To balance it, the game forced him to at least picked two bad ones:
Villain Tendency – Naturally more arrogant and aggressive.
Marked Reputation – Everyone already knew his name… and not in a good way.
Not a big deal. He planned to play the villain anyway, so the bad traits fit right in.
He hit Confirm.
A soft chime echoed. The screen faded to black.
No cutscene. No loading screen. Just black.
Kevin frowned. "Did the game freeze?"
The screen flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
FLASH.
A blinding white light exploded from the monitor.
Before he could react, something yanked him forward, like the universe had grabbed his soul and pulled it through a blender made of static.
No scream. No struggle.
Just—
Silence.
Warmth.
Weight.
Kevin's eyes snapped open.
He was lying in a massive canopy bed, wrapped in silk sheets. Sunlight poured through tall windows draped in velvet. A gold-trimmed chandelier sparkled above him. Everything around him screamed luxury.
He blinked. Once. Twice.
Then sat up.
Something felt off.
His body was lean, defined, muscular—but not the same. Gone was the dense, combat-hardened strength of a C-Rank Hunter. This body was fit, athletic, but lighter. Softer. Slower.
He clenched a fist. Decent grip. Good strength. But no concrete-crushing power.
"Huh," he muttered. "Downgraded."
He stood and caught his reflection in a tall mirror.
Blonde, spiky hair. Sharp blue eyes. Smooth skin. Perfect jawline.
Abs? Check.
Arms? Sculpted. Symmetrical.
It was the character he designed.
Kevin Grant, fantasy heartthrob noble with a little too much smug.
He ran a hand down his face and muttered,
"Damn, I'd flirt with me."
Just then, the door creaked open.
A neatly dressed butler stepped in and gave a slight bow.
"Young Master, your father requests your presence in the drawing room."
Kevin blinked.
Young Master.
Right. Noble Born. Kevin Grant.
Which meant…
He'd just been isekai'd.
As himself.
Just more handsome.
In a mansion.
With worse stats and better cheekbones.
"…Holy crap," he muttered.
Then, after a beat—
"…Am I fucked?"