Unlock all hidden professions.
System: Please select your initial profession.
The familiar voice echoed, but the scene before me was anything but ordinary.
Countless figures materialized, each adorned in distinct garb.
A warrior brandishing a radiant greatshield, a mage wreathed in storms of ice and fire, a knight astride a dragon’s spine, a goddess bathed in holy light, and an assassin whose blurred form exuded lethal intent.
A closer count revealed hundreds of these characters, each radiating an aura so grand they seemed an invincible army.
Of course, that impression hinged on ignoring the jarring contrast of their adorable appearances and diminutive statures.
Without that oversight, their charge would feel less like a battle and more like a swarm of lolis throwing a collective tantrum into your arms.
“Why are there so many?”
If memory served, the human empire in my previous life had only about a hundred hidden professions.
Even accounting for discrepancies, this number was absurdly excessive.
The reason soon dawned on me.
These figures weren’t limited to humans—they included hidden professions from other races, even those of the dark faction.
The bright and dark factions were the two major camps in Epoch, yet for much of the game’s early phase, players knew next to nothing about the dark faction.
That changed when a player team uncovered an ancient ruin, revealing the “World’s Backside” and triggering a new expansion.
Only then did the dark faction’s veil begin to lift.
Afterward, Epoch introduced faction-switching channels.
Driven by profit, many players, guilds, and conglomerates flocked to the dark world.
I’d considered it myself in my past life but ultimately stayed put—a decision I later celebrated.
Until my rebirth, over four years into Epoch’s run, the dark faction remained suppressed by the bright faction, sparking endless complaints on forums.
Setting that aside, I noticed another issue: the usual profession descriptions were missing.
“Did something go wrong when I swapped the data?”
This meant I’d have to judge these hidden professions by appearance alone to discern their abilities and combat styles.
Fortunately, that wasn’t too daunting for me.
First, I ruled out dark faction professions.
Starting as an enemy of the entire player base was a nonstarter, and it would nullify my rebirth’s advantages.
Next, I excluded non-human races, then filtered for magic-based professions.
These were my best guesses based on observation, though surprises could still lurk.
Such risks were beyond my current concern.
After this culling, over thirty figures remained, but I had one final criterion: darkness.
Even within the bright faction, some professions wielded dark magic.
Yet darkness was merely a tool for them, their allegiance still tied to light.
Take my past life’s dark verbal mage, a dark priest who debilitated foes, or a warlock who drew on external forces to amplify their power.
Dark professions blended damage and control, their only drawback being greater fragility compared to other magic classes.
This rarity made the filtered dark hidden professions even more precious.
Among them, my eyes locked onto a figure cloaked in a dark golden mantle.
Perhaps it was the terrifyingly dense aura of darkness swirling around them, or maybe it was instinct, but everything screamed power.
“Could it be a dragonkin?”
Noticing the massive horns protruding from either side of their head, the thought struck me.
Dragonkin, hybrids of dragons and ancient humans, were an exceptionally rare race.
Their extraordinary bloodline granted devastating strength capable of shattering mountains barehanded.
While dragonkin mages lacked such physical prowess, they wielded potent dragon-tongue magic, with unmatched magical and mental growth among spellcasters.
The perfect choice.
In an instant, I made my decision, reaching out to touch the figure before me.
Unbeknownst to me, horns didn’t always mean dragonkin—other possibilities existed.
The system, in its next prompt, delivered the brutal truth.
System: You have selected Demon King as your initial profession.
“So it’s Demon King! No wonder it looks so… awe… some… wait, what?”
I froze, a sinking feeling creeping in as I realized something was terribly wrong.
System: Error A1500#.
Unable to execute current task.
Adjusting logic A1501#.
Changing initial race to Demon Race [Primordial Demon].
Changing belief to Dark Faith.
Changing faction to Dark Faction.
Only then did it hit me.
“Hold on! This has to be a mistake, right?”
As if to confirm my fears, a piercing alarm blared, drowning out my voice.
System: Error A1502#.
Error B121#.
Error B475#…
Warning, warning, terminal experiencing critical errors…
Was the system about to crash?
Swallowing hard, I watched red warning bars flash around me, my nerves fraying.
“Uh, actually, Demon King isn’t that bad…”
As the alarms grew more frantic, a clear, melodious female voice—distinct from the synthetic system tone—cut through, silencing the chaos.
System: Retaining record A1502.
Forcing logic A01.
Entering game.
Before I could react, a blinding white light engulfed me.
…
When I opened my eyes, I found myself in an opulent room.
Black walls adorned with vivid, realistic oil paintings evoked the ambiance of a medieval castle.
“Where am I?”
The question slipped out, a reflex to the unfamiliar surroundings.
I hadn’t expected an answer.
“The World’s Backside, Herentis Capital, Demon King’s Castle.”
The voice, clear and ethereal, felt strangely familiar.
Following its source, I turned to find a slender figure seated beside me.
Golden hair cascaded beside a face so flawlessly sculpted it could’ve been chiseled by a master artist.
She paid me no mind, methodically slicing a cream cake with her utensils and bringing a piece to her lips.
Her movements were poised, embodying the elegance of a noblewoman steeped in ladylike decorum.
Sunlight streamed through a transparent skylight, bathing the scene in a sacred glow, as if lifted from a divine masterpiece.
“Wow…”
My mouth parted slightly.
“Save your breath. Words like that mean nothing to me. Even sincere praise won’t make me bat an eye,” the golden-haired girl said flatly, as if stating an undeniable fact.
“It looks… really tasty.”
Blinking at her, I shifted my gaze to the spread of food on the table.
Maybe it was a child’s love for sweets, or perhaps my hasty lunch earlier, but the lavish feast before me stirred my appetite.
“…”
For some reason, the girl’s expression seemed to freeze.
“Can I have a bite?”
“…”
Tftc!
She thinks she wants to eat her lol