[Author's Note: This was inspired by a fanfic called Cardinal Re-Direction by Blackraptor]


There are two things men want out of life: money and women. Specifically, tons of money and a beautiful wife. Of course, this is all your standard male fantasy, but when you're pushed up against a wall and asked what kind of life you want to reincarnate into, it's the easy option to pick.

Why yes. I did die and had some deity pressure me into what kind of life I want to reincarnate into. I don't want to go into the nitty gritty, but let's just say I went out peacefully compared to some of the other people who ended up getting reincarnated.

My eyes opened as the aroma of delicious cake filled the air. People chattered about as I looked at what I wore: a simple white tuxedo. I turn to see many other people who were dressed similarly in a formal outfit, all white. In fact, everything was either a white or a light blue. Light blue carpeting, white walls, white statues, so much white that my eyes felt blinded.

"Is something the matter, Jacques?" Jacques? I turned to see an old man with a few wrinkles on his face and thin gray hair, yet from the way he's dressed and that he had an upright posture, there's still about half a decade left before he croaks, though with him giving a punctuated cough, I fear it'd be less than that. I paused for a bit and looked around. Someone had to be a 'Jacques'. "You're not getting cold feet during the reception, are you?" Crap. He's talking to me. I'm this 'Jacques' person.

"Oh, no… Just…" Jesus Christ, what is with my voice? I sound like a stuck-up twat. "You ever walk into a room that's so bright you instantly have a headache?"

"Ah, I see. You're probably tired after the wedding. Well, no worries, in a few hours, you and my daughter will have the best honeymoon money can afford." Wait… Daughter? My eyes scanned the room quickly as I tried to find someone who was wearing an obvious wedding dress…

Bingo!

I saw someone wearing a white dress, though she seemed to be kneeling and talking to a child and a teenager.

"Ah, there she is right now. I assume the kids are gonna take a while to adjust to having a new father so soon after…" The old man frowned for a bit before he looked to me. "Perhaps you could comfort them as well." Did… he just imply that I married a mother? And that I married her possibly right after her husband croaked? Regardless, I had to do what he says, especially if he is the bride's father.

"A-alright." I cleared my throat and approached my bride and her kids. Both kids were girls, with blue eyes and white hair, both tied in a ponytail. Were it not for their obvious age differences, I would mistake them for twins. "Hello…" While I tried my hardest to be nice, I cringed at how slimy my new voice is. The teenager pouted and looked away.

"Winter, darling," oh wow, the bride's voice sounds so soft and soothing, almost a complete contrast to me, "Jacques has done a lot to help us after your father passed… Please, show him some courtesy…" Winter? Seriously? Whoever was her father decided to name her Winter? I noticed how Winter, in contrast to everyone else, was wearing a black, gothic-like dress. I can understand why.

"No, I think she needs some time to get adjusted to this…" I remembered a quote from an old school play we were assigned to act out, though I didn't want to re-enact it as it was a rant on how a person's mother was so quick to marry her deceased husband's brother in soliloquy form. However, I understood her grief. I pulled the bride away. "We shouldn't have married so soon…" I muttered.

"But Jacques, my father doesn't have a lot of time left…" She sighed and looked away. "I… I know it's too fast for the kids, but the Schnee Dust Company needs someone to take his place. He figured you were the right man for the job…" Wait wait wait. First… Schnee?! What kind of silly name is that!? Also, dust company? Like… It's a company that makes dust bunnies!?

What kind of monkey's paw bullshit is this? I wished to be rich and have a beautiful wide, and yet I ended up being the proud owner of a factory that sells jars of dirt and I'm married to Lady fucking Gertrude. I swear to God, if Jacques somehow poured poison down her previous husband's ear, I'm just gonna skip to Act 5, Scene 2 and down the poison.

Speaking of, I think that's what I'm gonna need right now. Well, not literal poison, but metaphorical… What I'm saying is that I hit the bar. I asked the bartender for something light to kick off the night.

"Spiked apple cider." I said. The bartender nodded and went off to make the drink.

"Congratulations." My eyes scanned the person next to me. Rather muscular despite wearing a very fine white suit. His facial structure was similarly buff. I got a good look at the right side of his head as I saw what seemed to be a metal plate or even a staple. Probably some retired football player what with the graying sideburns. "I've heard nothing but great things about the Schnee Dust Company, and hopefully you can keep its legacy alive."

"Yes, well, I hope so too." My drink came up as I took a swig.

"You have any ideas on what your first act will be as the new President? Improved Dust mining? Hiring Faunus employees?" What the hell is he talking about? How the hell can you mine dust? What's a Faunus? "Military application?" I spat my cider.

"What? Military application?" I don't think you can weaponize dust!

"Yes. Atlas manages to get by with its Dust supplies, but it comes out of the military budget and as much as I hate to admit it, our supplies are less than sufficient. To have the Schnee Dust Company officially provide Dust to the army would save money and probably even lives… Perhaps we can work together on this, Jacques. Think about it." With that, the muscle man left. Did… Did he just try to get me to weaponize dirt? I wasn't sure what to make of him. That said, using dust for war was probably the most logical path outside of mining dust and possibly hiring some pan flute playing goat. I looked down into my drink…

What the actual fuck did I get myself into?

Superior Jack Frost