I slapped my cheeks, taking a long breath to chase away the nausea pooling in my stomach.

  Writing about systematic slavery like that really drained my emotions. I needed a distraction. Luckily, the next page of that history book brought me back to the figure who'd made me curious from the start.

  Allain again.

  The book explained that even though Allain was born with above-average talent. whether that's a general's descendant or a cook's kid, I still don't know. he was still essentially an ordinary human. A human who was weak compared to Elves who could throw magic, or Dwarves whose bodies were as strong as stone.

  Until a chapter describing the most illogical turning point, in my opinion. But in the book it's written logically, so it doesn't feel strange.

  It all started from an accident.

  The exploration ship Allain was on sank after being struck by a massive storm and Sea Devils simultaneously while trying to map sea territories still considered forbidden at the time.

  Allain was the only crew member who survived. He drifted at sea until finally swept by currents to a remote island that had never been on any map.

  That island is now called Tarin. The island where I currently live.

  Here the logic starts feeling off. The book mentions that Allain was trapped in Tarin for months without food supplies.

  In a dying and starving condition, he was forced to eat a strange fruit growing on the coastal shore. A fruit with patterns never seen by any race before.

  The book writes:

  'The Hero didn't eat it to become strong, he ate it just so he could see tomorrow's sun.'

  Very poetic phrasing, but the point's clear: he was desperate. Eat or die.

  After eating that fruit, something strange happened. Abilities that didn't exist before suddenly awakened.

  When another patrol ship finally found Allain by accident a few weeks later, they didn't find a weakly starving crew member.

  They found a man who could shatter coral with just his bare hands.

  Allain returned to civilization not empty-handed. He brought several remaining fruit samples and knowledge about this island's location.

  That was the beginning of the fruit being named Sea Fruit. Because it was considered 'compensation' from the sea for all the land it had swallowed.

  I stopped reading for a moment, staring at that history book page.

  Found accidentally by patrol?

  Of course. I almost laughed.

  Shipwrecked, stranded on an unnamed island, alone for months. And his rescuers just happen to pass by. If this were a novel, the editor would've crossed out this part with red ink already.

  But that's apparently how golden children work. Misfortune and luck come together, as a package, like they were ordered beforehand.

  I switched to my notebook, writing a summary of what I just read. On the still half-empty page, there are three words I circled with ink: Fruit. Ability. Sea.

  I put the pen on the notes, lay down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling while laughing quietly inside.

  "Hehe... This is truly surprising. No matter how many times I think about it, it still makes me nostalgic."

  In my old life, there was an anime I watched. About someone who ate a fruit and became incredibly strong. About a sea journey and becoming the pirate king.

  Turns out this world has its own version too.

  I smiled slightly, lying down while lifting my notebook. My bed creaked faintly. Outside the window, wind moved, and leaf shadows outside swayed on the bedroom wall.

  It's late already. But my sleepiness went who knows where.

  I picked up the history book again and continued reading.

  The difference, and this is important, is that the fruit in that anime was predetermined from the start. You eat a certain fruit, you get a certain ability. Systematic and predictable.

  Sea Fruits here aren't like that.

  The book explains that awakened abilities are random. Divided into three categories. Regular that many people commonly have. Elemental related to natural forces. And one last category that the book mentions carefully:

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Unique.

  Abilities that don't fit any category. Can't be predicted. No duplicates.

  Kind of like a lottery.

  I stayed silent for quite a while. Something's bothering me.

  When reading those categories, there's a strange feeling. Not unfamiliar. But also not really familiar either.

  Like hearing a word in a language you've heard once, but forgot the meaning.

  Have I already eaten a Sea Fruit?

  That question appeared suddenly, and I don't know where to answer it from.

  Immersion. My ability to see weaknesses. Does that fall into this system? What category? I don't even know where it came from. I don't remember ever eating a blue-colored fruit. Or any strange fruit.

  I tap the pen against my own palm.

  Honestly, I can't confirm whether Immersion is part of this Sea Fruit system, or something completely different. Maybe it's innate from my situation as a reincarnation? Reincarnation stories I read in my past life always gave some kind of 'advantage' to the protagonist.

  What's clear is that I can't answer this question tonight.

  I'll just note it down first.

  "Huuuu..."

  I let out a long sigh while staring at my palm. A small child's palm that's not even big enough to grip a pen comfortably yet. Sometimes I'm still shocked seeing it. This body's too small for everything being thought inside it.

  I shook my head slowly and returned to the notebook.

  Honestly, this is what I needed most tonight. Finally, I have some picture of talent without having to ask Dad directly.

  I wrote again, summarizing what I'd already read from that history book. Trying to continue the story further.

  After Sea Fruits were discovered, humans started cultivating them.

  Elves and Dwarves, of course, knew about this from the start. News about Tarin Island spread quickly.

  And here's where the first crack appeared.

  Dwarves saw a threat. They calculated. If left alone, in a few decades humans could have thousands of Sea Fruit users. This threat could be stopped now with one military expedition.

  They proposed immediate action to the Elves.

  But Elves refused. Not because of strategy, but because of arrogance.

  For Elves, acting against "human fruit gardens" was admitting they were afraid. That's an insult. We, who master pure magic, should fear fruit eaten by an inferior race?

  Impossible.

  In the alliance hierarchy, Elves were always on top. Dwarves could propose, but couldn't force. And when Elves said no, that means no.

  So Dwarves stopped proposing. Not because they agreed, but because internal conflict with Elves was more expensive than letting humans grow a bit longer.

  And while those two races were busy arguing...

  Humans were busy planting.

  I stopped briefly and wiggled my fingers. They feel tired. But I don't want to stop yet. I still want to continue.

  Slowly, human power grew. Warships were built. Strategies developed. And for the first time, humans were no longer just cannon fodder. They started becoming a threat.

  Elves and Dwarves, who had been comfortable at the top all this time, started getting restless.

  Especially Elves. Their hatred toward the human race had reached a new level.

  If Elves need time and effort to learn elemental magic, then 'lucky' humans suddenly appear who can throw fire with just one bite of Sea Fruit...

  Isn't that an insult to them?

  Writing this part, I sighed.

  It's natural they hate it to death. Sea Fruits aren't just weapons. they're anomalies that steal the Elves' 'privilege.' For them, magic is sacred art, while Sea Fruit power might be considered filth that ruins world order.

  Under the pretext that Sea Fruits are considered a threat to world balance, Elves declared war.

  So war happened. The Land Devil race, which should also be part of the old alliance, was just ignored, because they indeed prefer fighting among themselves rather than external affairs.

  I kept writing with a bitter feeling. Truly shocking.

  The Devil race always portrayed as evil in novels turns out far more humane than the Elf and Dwarf races. They don't enslave or look down on other races. But they look down on their own race. Because the Devil race has clear castes from birth.

  And finally, war broke out. Humans against Elves and Dwarves.

  Humans weren't stupid either. They maneuvered quickly, forming new alliances with Merfolk and other races that had also been oppressed all this time. Allain, who by then had become the strongest person of the human race, participated directly in that war.

  And that changed everything.

  The Elf King and Dwarf King couldn't move carelessly as long as Allain was on the battlefield. They were weaker.

  Imagine. Two kings from the strongest races, Elves and Dwarves, helpless facing one human. Beaten back. Repeatedly. More than ten battles, and the result was the same every time.

  I stopped the pen briefly, imagining those two kings' expressions.

  Must hurt so much, I thought. Not the wounds. But the reality that what defeated them was a human.

  The war continued.

  In terms of population, logistics, and strategy, they were losing. Humans and their allies slowly dominated.

  Writing this part, I felt my breath catch in my chest. This is the most satisfying part of the book. Seeing oppressed races finally rise up and stand tall.

  I realized I'd leaned forward unconsciously. Elbows propped on knees, face almost touching the notebook page. Like a little kid watching an exciting match.

  Well, I am a little kid, I thought to myself.

  I straightened my back, shifted my sitting position, and took a slow breath.

  But of course, there's no free victory.

  In the middle of the war humans were almost winning, something happened that no one predicted.

  Leviathan, the Sea Devil ruler who'd been silent all this time, suddenly went mad.

  And started attacking everyone.

  No sides. No allies. Just destruction. Even fellow Sea Devils vanished.

  Allain was forced to leave the war to face it.

  And after that battle...

  Leviathan died.

  Allain disappeared.

  I stopped writing. My pen lay on the paper, its ink still wet on the last word: disappeared.

  Not died. Disappeared. And somehow, that word feels far heavier.

  Without Allain, the war's balance collapsed. Elves and Dwarves launched massive counterattacks. All human race leaders, the strongest people remaining, fell one by one.

  And with that, the first era ended as humanity's defeat in war.

  I put down the pen and returned to the history book. Its last page only had one short sentence:

  'Thus ended the First Generation. A new dawn, or a new darkness, awaits on the horizon.'

  I closed that history book with a heavy thud.

  Then leaned my back against the headboard, letting my pen just lie there on notes already full of writing. The room atmosphere felt calm, with occasional night wind sounds drifting through.

  "First Generation..." I mumbled.

  I closed my eyes briefly. My eyelids felt like they had iron weights hanging from them, and the throbbing in my temples started pounding, asking for rest.

  Turns out victory doesn't always end with cheers, but often with unexplained loss.

  If the First Generation ended with humanity's defeat and the loss of their hero...

  Then what era am I in now?