“Time to pick your class,” he waved his hand and tapped the floor impatiently. His mood had been getting worse ever since we stopped reacting to his bullshit.
I felt a warm sensation inside me. I looked at my hands—they were shimmering. Nelson too!
A mist-like, half-transparent window popped up, displaying our eligible classes one by one.
“What did you get, Nelson?”
“Two-handed Swordsman. And only that one.” He was smiling wildly, shaking with excitement—his fantasy had come true.
[Two-Handed Swordsman: Ah, one of the trinity of unga bunga classes. Big swords, big damage… if you manage to hit anything. Try not to kill your own tank.
God: Natalius, God of Prowess and Reckless Idiocy.]
He selected it, and his body began to adjust to the new class, twisting and cracking like a Korean zombie.
‘Whoever designed this place must have a body horror fetish.’
‘She does~!’ Lady Helena casually leaked top information.
‘One more thing for the thanks—I hate it, you vault.’
Nelson finally finished his reconstruction, patting his now-ripped chest and arms. “Easy muscles, fuck yes!” He fist-bumped the air.
“Good for you, my friend. You just had to die to get jacked.”
“Just a minor detail.”
Now, let’s see what I pulled.
[Shieldbearer: The masochist class par excellence. You get to suffer from enemy attacks and allies’ incompetence.
God in charge: Colombius, God of Resilience and Loyalty.]
‘Mister Frank~! Choose a tank!’ Helena chirped.
‘Is it a mandate?’ I asked, half-worried, half-sneering.
‘Mmm… I won’t take your freedom of will… yet~!’
I ignored Lady Helena and checked my next pull.
[Priest: You are either a kind, pure soul pleased to help, or a sadistic fuck with a god complex.
God in charge: Luminaria, Goddess of Healing and Compassion.]
“Frank, pick the healslut. Let’s make money off the plebs!”
“Eat shit!” I roared at Nelson. Worry crept in as I wondered if I was going to get another support class.
[Artillery Mage: Nothing better to stay sane and terrorize the enemy than blowing them to hell from afar.
God in charge: Howitzer, God of Destruction.]
‘Yes! Let’s get out of support hell.’
‘Aw, but I gave you the ultimate tank blessing~!’ she whined, but I ignored her.
Once I picked my class, it was my turn to board the transformation train. It was fucking disgusting. By the end of it, I looked down at my pathetic noodle arms. ‘I look like shit.’
The deity’s impatience was palpable; he was grinding his teeth so hard I thought they’d shatter. He cut our evaluation short with an annoyed wave. His gaze was fixed most of the time on Nelson.
“Now, quickly adjust your disgusting faces; your presence is unpalatable.”
A character customization window popped up, listing our available points. It covered skin color, height, dong size, even traits—though those cost a hefty amount of points. Negative traits and starting debuffs offered extra points.
First things first—I tried fixing my bald head. Getting my hair back would cost as much as fixing a mangled limb. Screw that, I’d rather have hair!
‘I can’t change it? What the fuck?’
A tiny footnote appeared, accompanied by eerie giggles: ‘Locked by: the Goddess of Death and Rebirth.’
‘Helena, no!’ I gripped my bald head in horror.
‘Mister Frank, yes~!’ the remorseless gremlin chirped.
‘This is what I choose, Mister Frank, the debt has been paid~!’ This little shit!
‘Choose something el—’
‘I’ll reduce Frank Junior to its minimum length then~’
‘I am gratefu—’
‘Fake worship is a no-no~’
‘Go to hell.’
‘Not my domain~’
I conceded defeat and made use of the bald compensation points. I lowered my age to 25, erased my manlet curse, and grabbed a trait:
[Iron Gut]
[Negative effects of anything eaten: -65%]
No way in hell was I dying from a poisoned berry, especially knowing Nelson would definitely use me as his food tester.
With my leftover points, I decided to upgrade Frank Junior by 5 cm.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
‘Why the hell is it eight times the cost of height?!’
‘I wonder which girl will taste it first~’
‘Why don’t you manifest and take my first time in Isekailand?’ I replied defiantly, expecting a heart squeeze for my audacity, but I got only a heated reply.
‘Mmm, that is not a bad idea~’
‘No thanks.’ I gulped, my liver telling me to get the fuck away from her.
‘Coward~’
I ignored her and turned to check on Nelson’s customization. Fiery red hair, green eyes, stylish scar—dropped his age to 20 and barely upped his height. ‘Heh. Manlet.’
Then I noticed his arms—noodle arms.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Nelson… are you trying to die as soon as we land?”
“Frank! I had to do it to get enough points to reach 20 cm! The dream!” He grinned, completely unrepentant.
“Silence.” The deity cut our chatter with a dismissive wave.
“Now, the part you’ve been waiting for—my immaculate blessing.” He laughed smugly, shimmering with golden light, his presence swelling. Without the fear factor, he was just a big dove puffing his chest. He could still instagib us, though.
‘Ah yes, time to get screwed over by the wagecuck god—ah, he’s looking at me.’
“The one with scarce hair, step forward.”
I stepped forward without a word, keeping my mouth shut and staring defiantly.
“The one that groveled even before I appeared… Lady Helena has trained you well.”
‘You I did~!’ said Lady Helena, proud of herself.
The deity’s grin vanished, clearly bugged by Helena’s intervention.
‘Wait, if he can hear her, doesn’t that mean…’
A shiny orb shot from his fingertip straight at me. “A humble man like you shall live humbly.”
My body shimmered again, just like during class selection.
“It is normal for a lowly creature like you to err when choosing his pathway.”
Pain shot through me as my body cracked and remolded. My skeleton-thin frame transformed into something bulkier. The pain was thrice as much as the first remodeling; I was livid until my skill turned it into simmering rage.
‘You piece of shit!’
“I’ll correct your mistake and assign you a class fitting of your humbleness—or rather, classes.” He began to laugh, the kind of laugh you’d expect from a refined old man who thinks he’s won.
[Petty God of Grudges Blessing: Humble Classes for the (Un)humble]
[Passive]
Description:
Hexamalius has recognized your (lack of) humility. He has decided to humble you even more. Enjoy your second life, mongrel.
Effect:
Hexamalius will choose your classes, and they will be unchangeable.
Your stat growth will be split evenly—enjoy sucking at both.
Future subclasses/jobs will always be support-oriented.
You are 35% more susceptible to pleas for help.
Decline five requests, and you’ll permanently lose 10% of your stats—and be forced to accept it anyway.
Cannot learn chantless skills.
Cannot attempt suicide (no easy way out).
Current refusals: 0/5.]
I stared at my class: Shieldbearer/Priest.
“I can hear your thoughts, insipid creature. Your fake humility was mildly amusing,” Hexamalius chuckled, clearly reveling in his pettiness.
“That’s fucking it!” I yelled.
‘Heard this, fuckface: Imagine being a god and still being a little whining bitch who must grovel and lick his boss’ balls.’ I howled inside my skull, gambling my life away.
“Egregious words from a powerless existence such as you, but amusing—how utterly pathetic.”
‘You said that—I see your wrinkles deepen. Ah! There’s still some pubic hair stuck between your lips, you petty god of shit-eating.’ I kept mentally tossing mud at Hexamalius.
‘Mister Frank~’ A small skeletal figure wrapped itself around me from behind. ‘It’s time to stop. He maaay get too mad and turn you into a wanton girl~.’
The warning of losing my manhood put an end to my mental berating.
“Fine,” I sighed.
“Train your rabid dog properly, Lady Helena,” chuckled Hexamalius.
‘Silence, silly child~. He is mine; I’ll raise him as I want~.’
Hexamalius decided to stop messing with the property of another goddess—a higher goddess who could easily erase him. He went to pick on Nelson.
“Ah yes, the banal one,” Hexamalius pivoted to Nelson, his voice oozing with barely contained frustration.
An orb shot toward him. It didn’t merge immediately, instead sinking into his chest at an agonizing pace, sizzling against his flesh. He went the extra mile, inflicting pain on Nelson as an indirect punishment for me.
“Not only do you lack manners, but you also dared to use your rusty copper tongue against me—berating me mentally five times as much as the other pest.” The orb caught fire, but Nelson stayed firm, his body trembling and tears of rage spilling from his eyes.
“A blessing is too much for a lowly being like you, but I am obliged to give you something.”
The flames crawled across his skin, reducing his clothes to ashes. He bit down hard, holding back his screams, but a groan or two escaped him.
As the fire finally subsided, it revealed an unharmed, naked Nelson kneeling on the ground, chest heaving with exhaustion.
[Petty God of Grudges Curse: Wordbound Explosion]
Description:
You and your friend managed to piss off Hexamalius—enjoy his divine retribution.
Effect:
Explode every time you insult Hexamalius, dealing massive area damage in a 3-meter radius. You’ll be reconstructed, of course, with only 10% HP and a bleeding status that will leave you a mere slap away from death.
And if you somehow manage to survive… enjoy a week-long debuff:
Max HP -75%
Damage dealt -65%
Defense -35%
Attack speed -80%
Explosion damage to allies +50% (stackable up to 10 stacks)
Erectile dysfunction (the horror)
Since Hexamalius breached a rule, the Supreme Father has intervened on your behalf.
You cannot die as a direct result of the curse.
You are immune to further punishment from Hexamalius.
The curse will expire in 365 days and turn into a proper blessing.
Current stacks: 0/10.
Curse duration: 364 days remaining.]
A teleportation circle slowly began to form under Hexamalius. “You will be transferred in eight hours. May I never see such worthless filth again.”
A shimmering film crawled over his body from below, slowly going upward as he kept berating us. “You are the reason I despise your kind.”
Nelson stood up, scanning through his curse. His expression slowly shifted—he looked almost… inspired.
“I’ll send my believers to hunt you, insignificant bugs,” Hexamalius sneered.
Just as the shimmering barrier reached the deity’s chest level, Nelson sprinted toward him like a madman and launched himself into a perfect basketball jump. “Say hello to my little friend, divine bastard!”
He exploded midair, bitch-slapping Hexamalius right in the face with his junk.
“Utterly majestic.” I was at a loss for words.
The humiliating spectacle made Hexamalius shriek in outrage. Nelson reappeared, reconstructed, standing before him, bleeding from every orifice.
“YOU INSOLENT CREATURE!” I felt Hexamalius’ power surge, thunder and fire shooting toward Nelson. But he simply performed a dramatic, exaggerated dab as the divine wrath passed harmlessly over him, deflected by the Supreme Father’s intervention.
“So refreshing~” Nelson sighed blissfully.
Helena was wheezing. ‘Oh my, how unladylike of me~’
“Oh, Petty Hexamalius, I thank you for your magnificent blessing,” Nelson declared with a shit-eating grin, his laughter ringing louder than I’d ever heard.
“Too bad you’re leaving,” he called after the enraged god.