Ren Elvarette woke up with a start. His first instinct? To check for the typical signs of being reincarnated into a new world. Was he a hero? A prince? A legendary mage?
He blinked rapidly, trying to focus on his surroundings. Instead of grand palaces or mysterious dungeons, he found himself staring at a cracked, dirt-streaked ceiling. No shimmering lights or celestial beings, just the faint, musty scent of old wood. His body was small—way too small.
Wait a minute.
Ren shot up, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't lying in a royal bed, nor was he in the middle of an epic battle. No, he was lying on a thin straw mat in a dimly lit, shabby room. In fact, the whole place looked like it had never seen a cleaning sponge. The walls were barely holding up, the floor uneven, and the air smelled of... well, poverty.
"Is this some kind of joke?" he muttered to himself, his voice higher and thinner than he remembered. Looking down, he saw a pair of tiny, chubby hands and—yep—tiny legs. A baby.
He groaned. This wasn't the glorious rebirth he had been expecting. No flashing swords or powerful magic. This... this was a disaster.
The sound of footsteps outside interrupted his thoughts. A woman's voice called out from beyond the door, muffled but clear enough.
"Ren, dear, wake up. It's time to help your father with the chores."
Ren blinked. "Ren? That's my name? Seriously?"
With no other choice, Ren dragged himself to his feet. As he stumbled toward the door, he couldn't help but feel a sense of absurdity. Reincarnated into a poor family in the middle of nowhere... and, to top it off, he had no idea how to even eat in this new life.
"Great. This is going to be fun," he muttered, as the door creaked open and the world outside greeted him.