Dark. Cold. Wet. Naked.
Not the start of a good morning, and definitely not how I pictured reincarnation.
My eyes flutter open to a rotting canopy of black trees, the scent of mildew and iron thick in the air. Shadows creep between the twisted trunks, whispering like gossiping ghosts. Everything smells... dead. Not in the poetic way. Literally decomposing-dead.
"System booting... ERROR: Host not compatible with Hero Framework. Reassigning class..."
"Wait, what?"
"Reassignment complete: Class – Curse Spirit (Rejection Type). Have a cursed day!"
You've gotta be kidding me.
[You Have Been Reincarnated as a Curse Spirit]
Class: Rejection TypeTitle: The Forsaken OneEmotion Core: Self-LoathingStarting Skill Unlocked: [🩸 Negation Field – Rank F]Warning: You are an anomaly. Exorcists will attempt to eliminate you on sight.
"Cool, cool, cool..." I mutter, rising to my feet and looking down. Still very much lacking clothes. "Is this the edgy villain origin arc, or just my humiliation speedrun?"
I summon my status window with a thought.
[Rin]
Race: Curse Spirit
Level: 1
HP: 45 / 100
MP: 200 / 200
Cursed Core: [Dormant – Emotion Detected: Self-Rejection]
Skills:
[Negation Field (F)] – Suppresses the will of living beings in a 3-meter radius.
[Mope] – Lay in fetal position and contemplate failure. (No cooldown.)
"...Mope. Seriously?"
As if the gods themselves were mocking me, a sudden BOOM echoes nearby. I duck behind a dead log just in time to see a bolt of divine lightning scorch a clearing 20 meters away.
Three Exorcists walk into view, white armor glinting even in the gloom.
"We sensed it again. A new curse was born here. High-grade.""Then let's burn it before it multiplies. Don't let it speak."
Well. That's me. I'm it.
I do what any reasonable reincarnated protagonist would do in this situation:
I run.
"You! Stop!"A voice calls out—young, commanding, but unsure. I glance back and see him: one of the Exorcists has broken formation to chase me. Short brown hair, too clean for this forest. Sword glowing with purification runes. And—he's my age?
Kind of cute, in an annoyingly heroic way.
"Target is non-hostile," he mutters, slowing."Why aren't you attacking?"
"Because I'd rather not get exorcised today?" I yell back, ducking under a root. "Crazy idea, I know!"
He frowns. "You can… talk?"
"Yeah, and I can do this!"
I activate Negation Field.
He stumbles, suddenly wide-eyed, his hand shaking. "What… what is this feeling? Like I don't… belong here…"
"Yeah," I whisper. "That's what rejection feels like."
Before I can follow up, the ground explodes beneath us—vines erupt from below, flinging us into the air.
I land hard—on something soft.
Wait... not something. Someone.
My face is in her lap. And that lap is attached to the most stunning, terrifying woman I've ever seen.
She's lounging on a stone throne half-buried in roots. Crimson eyes. Horns curling like a crown. Wearing a black dress that defies gravity and fashion laws.
"Well, well," she purrs, poking my forehead. "A curse spirit… in my forest… and on my thighs. Are you trying to seduce me?"
"Lady, I literally just died last week."
She smirks.
"I like you already."