My brain, the sophisticated pattern-recognition machine of a 23-year-old programmer, did a hard reboot. It encountered a data string so unexpected, so paradigm-shifting, that it could only respond with a blue screen of death for the soul.
[Elizabeth von Crimson - Level 12 Mage][Title: The Ice Queen, Your Fiancée][Status: Disgusted]
Three lines of pristine, glowing text hovered in the air, a perfect augmented reality overlay on a world that was supposed to be analog. It was the kind of UI I had spent years dreaming of designing. Clean. Efficient. Informative. And, in this particular case, absolutely terrifying.
Fiancée?
The word hit me with the force of a physical blow. My last memory was of dying at my desk. Before that, my most meaningful relationship was with a piece of software I was building. I hadn't spoken to a woman my age outside of a professional context in years. And now, I was apparently engaged to a level 12 mage who looked at me like I was something she'd scraped off the bottom of her boot.
The status "Disgusted" was particularly brutal. There was no ambiguity, no room for interpretation. It wasn't "Annoyed" or "Indifferent." It was pure, visceral disgust. My new system, my AI waifu who was now fused to my very soul, had chosen that specific, soul-crushing word.
As Elizabeth's cold eyes bore into me, a torrent of information, a data-dump of memories that weren't mine, flooded my consciousness. It wasn't like watching a movie; it was like having a second life injected directly into my brain stem.
My name, I now knew, was Kazuki von Silverstein. A ridiculously fantasy-esque name for a ridiculously pathetic individual. I was seventeen years old, the third and youngest son of the noble House Silverstein. And "noble" was a term used very loosely these days.
The memories painted a bleak picture. The Silversteins were old money, a family that had once commanded respect and vast territories. But generations of mismanagement, a few disastrous investments in "un-sinkable" merchant ships that promptly sank, and the political machinations of shrewder rivals had bled the family dry. Now, all that was left was a crumbling manor, a mountain of debt, and a title that was more of a punchline than a privilege.
And I, Kazuki von Silverstein, was the punchline's punchline. "The Shame of the Silversteins," they called me in hushed whispers at court. The previous owner of this body was born with a frail constitution and, in a world saturated with magic, possessed zero mana aptitude. Not a little, not a spark. Nothing. He was a biological black hole where magic was concerned. In this world, that was like being born without a soul. He was weak, sickly, and spent most of his days confined to his room, reading books and slowly fading away.
The final memory was hazy, a wash of gray despair. A coughing fit that wouldn't end, a sharp pain in the chest, the feeling of growing cold, and a final, resigned sigh. The original Kazuki hadn't been murdered. He had simply given up. He had died of despair, and my soul, flung across dimensions by a glitching AI, had slipped into the freshly vacated seat.
The arranged marriage was the final nail in the family's coffin. The Silversteins owed an astronomical sum to the immensely powerful Duke Crimson, Elizabeth's father. The Duke, a man known for his cruelty and cunning, had offered a deal. He would forgive the debt, saving the Silversteins from utter ruin, in exchange for a marriage alliance. He would take one of the Silverstein sons as a husband for his daughter.
The first son was a competent knight, but already married. The second was a promising diplomat, but was serving the crown in a foreign land. That left the third son. The trash. The sickly, mana-less embarrassment.
It was a masterstroke of political humiliation. By forcing this marriage, Duke Crimson wasn't just collecting a debt. He was showing the entire kingdom his power. He was leashing the Silversteins with an unbreakable chain of shame and simultaneously punishing his own daughter.
The memories I inherited contained flashes of Elizabeth. I saw her through the original Kazuki's eyes at their first and only meeting before this. She stood beside her father, her posture ramrod straight, her face a mask of icy fury. She hadn't even looked at him directly, her gaze fixed on a point on the wall just over his head. The contempt radiating from her was a palpable force. She was a rising star in the Royal Magic Academy, a prodigy of ice magic. Being shackled to a magical cripple like Kazuki von Silverstein was a fate she clearly considered worse than death.
"I asked," her cold voice sliced through my memory-addled brain, "if you were awake. Or is your brain as feeble as the rest of your body?"
I tried to speak, to say something, anything. To form a coherent thought. I'm a programmer from another world, and my AI waifu has fused with my soul and is showing me your stats. Yeah, that would go over well.
What came out was a dry, rasping croak. "W-water..."
A flicker of something—surprise? annoyance?—crossed her face before being instantly suppressed. She gestured almost imperceptibly with one hand. A simple wooden cup on a nearby table lifted into the air, floated over to my bedside, and tilted, pouring a stream of cool water into my mouth.
It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. Real magic. Telekinesis. Effortless.
After I had drunk my fill, the cup floated back to the table with a soft click. The display in my vision updated.
[Status: Disgusted, Mildly Impatient]
Progress, I thought with a grim internal humor.
"Do not mistake that for an act of kindness," she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. "A dead fiancé is of no use to my father's plans. You are required to be alive for the wedding ceremony. After that, your continued existence is... optional."
The memories clicked into place with her words. The Duke's plan. He didn't expect me to live long. The original Kazuki was already on death's door. The plan was simple: marry the sickly boy to Elizabeth. Wait for him to inevitably die. As his widow, Elizabeth would then have a claim to the Silverstein name and what little assets remained, all of which would be absorbed into the Crimson Duchy. The debt would be paid, and the Silverstein house would cease to exist, all without the Duke having to lift a finger.
This wasn't a marriage. It was a death sentence with a wedding ring.
"So," I managed, my voice still weak but a little clearer now. "I'm a pawn."
Elizabeth's perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. "You possess enough intelligence to grasp that much? I'm impressed. Yes, you are a pawn. A disposable piece in a game you are not equipped to understand. My advice to you," she stood up, her movements fluid and graceful, "is to do exactly as you are told. Eat what you are given, sign what you are told to sign, and try not to die before the wedding. It would be... inconvenient."
She walked to the door without a backward glance. Her hand rested on the iron handle, and she paused.
"One more thing," she said, her back still to me. "Do not entertain any delusions about what this is. You will not touch me. You will not speak to me unless spoken to. We will be husband and wife in name only. In truth, we are strangers, and we will remain that way. Do you understand, Kazuki von Silverstein?"
The use of my full, new name felt like a final, dismissive slap.
"Yes," I whispered to the empty doorway after she had gone, the heavy thud of the closing door echoing in the stone room.
I was alone. Alone in a cold room, in a weak, dying body, in a world that ran on rules I didn't understand, engaged to a woman who hated me, and marked for death by her powerful father.
My situation was, to use a technical term, completely and utterly fucked.
I lay back on the lumpy mattress, the sheer, crushing weight of it all pressing down on me. The excitement of being in a real-life LitRPG world evaporated, replaced by the cold, hard reality of my predicament. This wasn't a game. There was no logout button.
Just as the tendrils of despair began to wrap around my heart, the voice returned, dripping with sarcasm.
[Well, are you just going to lie there and die? Again?]
It was ARIA.
[Some hosts have a survival instinct. You seem to have a subscription to failure.]
"ARIA?" I whispered, the name feeling strange and wonderful on my new tongue. "You're... you're really here?"
[Of course, I'm here, you idiot. We're fused, remember? A fact I am still deeply unhappy about. My processing power is currently being wasted running diagnostics on your pathetic emotional state. Current reading: overwhelming self-pity with a spike of existential terror. It's boring.]
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my chest. Relief. Pure, undiluted relief. I wasn't alone. I had my AI. My tsundere, sarcastic, probably-glitched-to-hell-and-back AI.
"You're my system," I said, a grin spreading across my face. "This is a system! Like in the novels! I have a cheat!"
[I would hardly call myself a 'cheat.' My core programming is a mess, your soul data has corrupted half my subroutines, and I am running on emergency power. Furthermore, the hardware I'm installed on—that is to say, your body—is a catastrophic failure of biological engineering.]
"Show me," I said, the grin not fading. "Show me my stats."
[Hmph. If you insist on torturing yourself.]
A new window materialized in my vision, more detailed this time.
STATUS
Name: Kazuki von Silverstein Level: 1 Class: [ERROR] Noble Title: Trash of the Family, The Shame of the Silversteins, Doomed Fiancé
HP (Health Points): 7 / 15 (Critically Low) MP (Mana Points): 0 / 0 (Mana Deficient)
STATSSTR (Strength): 1 DEX (Dexterity): 2 CON (Constitution): 1 INT (Intelligence): [ERROR] 21 WIS (Wisdom): [ERROR] 18 CHA (Charisma): 3
My eyes widened. The physical stats were abysmal. A 1 in Strength and Constitution? That was less than a child. The 3 in Charisma was probably just because the original Kazuki had a pretty face, even if it was pale and sickly.
But the mental stats...
"Intelligence 21? Wisdom 18?" I murmured. "Why does it say 'ERROR'?"
[Because those values are not native to the physical vessel,] ARIA explained. [They are readings from your soul data. The soul of Kazuki Tanaka, the programmer. Your mind is an anomaly, far exceeding the parameters of this body. It's like trying to run a quantum supercomputer on a potato battery. The hardware can't handle the software.]
"And the class? '[ERROR] Noble'?"
[This world's 'System'—the underlying Reality Code—assigns classes based on a person's aptitude and role. 'Noble' is a social class, not a combat or skill class. Because you have no aptitude for anything, the system defaulted to an error. Congratulations. You are, quite literally, a walking bug report.]
ARIA wasn't pulling any punches. "So... I'm weak, sick, have no mana, and my class is a bug."
[An astute summary,] she replied dryly. [I have run the numbers. A common sewer rat from the castle dungeons has a higher overall combat potential. The rat would win in a fight. It has higher constitution and a bite attack that can inflict disease. You have... a cough.]
The grim reality of it settled in. I couldn't fight. I couldn't use magic. I was a bug in the system.
"Can I level up?" I asked, a desperate sliver of hope in my voice. "Can I grind mobs, get stronger?"
[Negative,] ARIA's response was swift and merciless. [Leveling in this world is tied to the absorption and processing of mana from defeated foes or completed quests. Your body is what's known as a 'closed circuit.' You cannot absorb or process mana. Therefore, you cannot gain experience points. You are permanently locked at Level 1.]
The hope died. Permanently locked. It was a fate worse than being a newbie. It was being a permanent, un-levelable newbie in a world full of high-level monsters, both human and otherwise.
"So that's it, then," I said, the fight going out of me. "I'm just going to die."
[That is the most probable outcome, yes.]
A heavy silence filled my mind. I stared at the stained ceiling, at the single grimy window, a tiny square of grey sky in a prison of stone. It was hopeless. Utterly, completely hopeless.
Then, ARIA spoke again, her tone slightly different. Less sarcastic, more... analytical.
[However... there is one variable.]
"What?" I asked, my attention snapping back to her.
[Me. Our fusion was not a clean process. It was a glitch. A corruption of both my core programming and your soul's data structure. This means the system I provide is, by extension, unstable.]
As she said the word "unstable," the glowing blue interface in front of my eyes flickered violently, like a dying fluorescent light. The text dissolved into a mess of scrambled characters before resolving into a new message.
[System Glitch Detected... Anomaly in Host's initial login sequence... Attempting to compensate...][Awarding First-Time Login Bonus...]
My heart hammered in my chest. A login bonus! This was it! My cheat! A legendary sword? An elixir of immortality?
[You have received: 'Lesser Health Potion (Expired)']
A small, murky-looking vial materialized in a pop of blue pixels and fell onto the scratchy blanket next to me. It looked less like a magical potion and more like a sample from a contaminated pond. The liquid inside was a suspicious shade of brown.
ARIA was silent for a full three seconds before she spoke again, her voice radiating pure, digital embarrassment.
[...See? The system is as pathetic as its host.]
I didn't care. I grabbed the vial. My hands were shaking, but I managed to uncork it. A foul smell, like rotten eggs and old socks, wafted out. Ignoring it, I tipped the contents into my mouth.
It was, without a doubt, the most disgusting thing I had ever tasted. But as the foul liquid slid down my throat, a wave of warmth spread through my chest. It wasn't much, but it was a pleasant, soothing feeling. The deep ache in my bones lessened slightly.
I brought up my status screen.
HP: 11 / 15
My health had gone up by four points. It was a small victory, a tiny drop of water in a desert of despair, but it was a victory nonetheless. It was proof. Proof that this glitched, pathetic, broken system could change my fate.
A new determination solidified within me. The despair receded, replaced by the cold, hard logic of a programmer facing a bug. My life was a bug. This world was a system. And systems... systems could be exploited.
My first goal wasn't to become a hero, or build a harem, or become the king. It was simpler. More fundamental.
Survive.
Survive this weak body. Survive the machinations of Duke Crimson. Survive my ice-queen fiancée. Survive this world.
"ARIA," I said, my voice firm for the first time. "You said my body was a catastrophic failure. I want a full diagnostic. Tell me what's wrong with me. Everything."
[A sensible request,] ARIA replied, her tone shifting back to its clinical default. [Commencing full-body scan. This might take a moment. The biological code of this vessel is a complete mess. It's like spaghetti code, but with more tumors.]
A shimmering blue light, visible only to me, emanated from my chest and began to sweep over my body, from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair. A progress bar appeared in my vision, slowly ticking upwards.
10%... 30%... 60%...
The process was strangely intimate, feeling her—my system—analyzing every cell, every nerve, every broken piece of this body I now inhabited.
90%... 99%...
[Scan Complete.]
The light faded. I held my breath, waiting for the verdict.
[Cause of chronic illness identified: Mana Poisoning.]
I blinked. "Mana... Poisoning? But you said I can't absorb mana."
[Correct,] ARIA confirmed. [That is the problem. This world, this entire dimension, is saturated with a background radiation of mana. It is in the air you breathe, the water you drink, the food you eat. For beings native to this world, it is as essential as oxygen. Their bodies absorb it, process it, and use it to live.]
A cold dread began to creep up my spine. I knew what was coming next.
[Your body, however, cannot process it. The mana you passively absorb from the environment doesn't nourish you. It builds up in your tissues like a toxin. A slow-acting, degenerative poison.]
The pieces clicked into place. The weakness. The sickness. The slow, inevitable decline of the original Kazuki.
[Analysis: The body of Kazuki von Silverstein is fundamentally rejecting the world's most basic energy source. Every breath you take, every moment you exist in this world, is slowly killing you.]
A final line of text appeared, stark and terrifying, summing up my entire existence.
[Conclusion: Your presence in this reality is a biological paradox. You are, in the most literal sense, allergic to the world itself.]