Hey, so Jim Hoxworth here. Meant to just lay the groundwork for crossposting to FanFiction, but ended up going live with it sooner than expected.

I'll be spending this next week or so getting everything that I've written on AO3 converted over here, but once I hit Chapter 11, things will slow down to an approximately 4-6 week basis for future chapters.

Username on AO3 is the same as here if something happens to the site here. Anyways, on with the story!


Spitting sand and grit from my mouth, I stumbled away from the wreck of my father's skiff. It had nearly killed me twice over, but I'd landed at the Fortress of the premium airship Luxion. Honestly, I didn't really want to be here at all, but when my options were this or being sent off to marry a fifty year old woman and then die in a war so she can collect the insurance money, it wasn't much of a choice.

I suppose I should recap the events that led me to this point. Ten years ago, I died after spending an entire weekend 100% completing an otome game for my sister, and found myself reincarnated as a background character, Leon Fou Bartfort, from that world. In this world, the lower nobility that I was born into had severe matriarchal leanings, to the point where I was being put at risk by Baroness Zola Bartfort, the legal wife of my father. An "arranged marriage to one of her friends at court" is what she said. To say that I was having none of it was an understatement.

Thankfully, I'd made preparations over the last ten years just in case I needed to do exactly what I was here for. I'd trained up as often as I could between farmwork and other things associated with back-country living. I'd built a working copy of an M1 Garand rifle to use, as well as a few other non-magical aces up my sleeve just in case Luxion was… less than cooperative. Using a mix of Magic and High School level Electronics, I'd managed to create a few non-nuclear EMP grenades, and yet I wondered if they'd be enough. It was a risk, but it was the best option I had.

As I approached the massive door, I was struck by the fact that this was not something that any of the regular factions in the game would have used. The base looked more at home with the designs from Mass Effect or Star Trek or some other sci-fi franchise. Everything was made of metal, and furthermore it was a metal not designed to rust. I successfully managed to open the door without much effort, and the facility seemed to be mostly abandoned on the first few floors. I could even see a few vending machines with logos like Coca Cola and Pepsi, which suggested that maybe this was some sort of alternate future for Earth rather than a whole different world like I thought.

I dropped a few automated sentries with my rifle without being spotted, but I had a bad feeling about the lack of heavy resistance. Glancing at a nearby bench, I found the skeleton of what looked to be a crew member of the facility. I quickly marched up to the body and searched him for anything that could be construed as an ID and found a security badge. There was a picture of some guy in his early thirties by the name of "Kenichi Sato". It would have to do.

Suddenly, a massive murderbot of a security android stomped into the room. Three meters tall, with giant mechanical fists of steel, and enough armor to plate two tanks, it observed me with a single red camera lens.

"You are trespassing on Old Human Territory," stated the murderbot. "You will now be terminated-"

"Easy there!" I replied quickly. "Don't you recognize me? It's me, Kenichi!"

"...Explain…" replied the murderbot, thoroughly unamused.

"Sorry I'm late for my shift," I explained, holding up the badge. "I hope you can leave this off my employee record this time."

"...You are not Engineer Kenichi Sato," stated the murderbot. "Scans indicate the presence of thaumatic energy consistent with the 'magic' of New Humans. You are an intruder."

"Okay, so you're smarter than the average Skynet castoff," I growled at the murderbot, drawing my Garand.

"...I'm sorry, but what did you call me?" asked the murderbot in a brief moment of what I could almost construe to be shock.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, HAL-9000, but I'm rather fond of not being 'Exterminated', and I don't think that 'resistance is futile'..." I quipped, emptying my Garand into its face with no effect. "...Well that's just not fucking fair…"

"I appreciate the compliment, New Human, but…" replied the murderbot. "Where did you get that weapon?"

"I found it," I replied flippantly, loading a clip of armor piercing rounds into my rifle's magazine.

"I find-"

"You find that answer vague and unconvincing?" I interrupted, firing my rifle towards potential weak points like the lens of the murderbot's camera or the exposed joints with little to no effect. "...Ok, time for Plan C-"

"-Enough of this," interrupted the murderbot as it reached out and grabbed me with a massive mechanical fist. "You will explain where you learned of the Old Human world, and you will explain now."

"I…grew… up… in… it…" I choked out as I could feel my ribs crack.

"Impossible," argued the murderbot. "I watched the last of the Old Humans die out centuries ago, and all the references you're making are even centuries older than that."

"Isekai," I wheezed as I reached the ace in the hole on my grenade belt and pulled the pin on an EMP grenade. "Otome…Game…"

Before the murderbot could respond to my revelation, the EMP went off and the robot slumped over and dropped me from its grip. I coughed, splashing blood onto the floor from my internal injuries. …That wasn't good. I began to make my way to the nearest control panel in an attempt to set myself as the primary administrator of the facility. Hopefully, Luxion had medical facilities to save my life, but if not…well, at least I tried. I began to type when the console suddenly shifted to Japanese.

"Nice try," I coughed with a grin before switching to Japanese. "But if you really wanted to trip me up, you should have tried using a language other than my first language…"

"It wasn't a trick, but rather a test," explained a drone as it floated by, clearly the same AI in a new body. "The only way you would know of such a language is if you lived during a time when it was used."

"Glad that I…passed your test, Luxion," I replied as I coughed up another mouthful of blood. "I'm a little surprised that you believed me, but I suppose when you've eliminated the impossible-"

"-Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," replied the drone, completing Arthur Conan Doyle's most well-known Sherlock Holmes quote. "...I take it that my name shall be 'Luxion' going forward?"

"It's… what the game called you…" I trailed off, the world slowly fading to black.

"Good morning, Master," greeted the homicidal AI cheerfully as I slowly opened my eyes.

The last thing that I remembered before I'd blacked out was coughing up blood from the injuries sustained from fighting this AI's damned combat drone. I was no longer in pain or coughing up blood and bits of organs, so I suppose I was right about Luxion's medical capabilities. I sat up and glanced at the AI.

"...So, you let me live?" I asked Luxion without any preamble.

"Yes, since you have more than thirty percent of your genome as Old Human DNA, I have determined that to kill you would be against my last Primary Directive, and have turned control over to you," explained the AI. "And while I do find your notions of reincarnation to be ridiculous on the surface, your knowledge would suggest that you do actually know of the Old World. Also, you did make several archaic movie references as we were fighting."

"Well, good to know that pop culture saved my ass somehow," I smirked as I sat back up. "Hey, did you grab my rifle? I'm rather fond of that."

"Yes, the rifle is another curious anachronism with your arrival," replied Luxion. "It appears to be an M1 Garand Rifle, chambered in .308 caliber rounds instead of the original .30-06 caliber, but there's no serial number and the components are emitting trace amounts of magic, as though manufactured by magical means."

"Yeah, I made it myself," I replied simply, standing to my feet. "Only way that I could manufacture it without a machine shop was by magic, and .308 is a much more common caliber in this age."

"...And this is the only rifle of its kind at the moment?" asked Luxion in a concerned tone.

"For the moment, and I have no plans on mass producing it," I reassured the AI. "The most advanced weapons in this world would be equivalent to First World War era weapons for right now."

"And you produced this rifle from memory?" asked Luxion, clearly impressed despite himself. "You are quite fascinating, Master."

"Glad to know that I entertain, at least," I replied with a chuckle before getting back on track. "So, I'm the Master now, right?"

"Yes, you have full access to all facilities under my control, including this ship, my manufacturing facilities, and this island base," replied Luxion. "I am glad to see that you are focused; however, I would like to know more about what your goals are from this point forward."

"Well, it's a bit of a long story, but my immediate goals would be to have enough wealth to finance myself into the Holfort Academy, find a wife in the general class, and then live quietly on a small island estate after raising a few kids," I explained. "I get the feeling that you wouldn't be totally on-board with that plan, though."

"It would be a massive waste of my potential, yes," replied Luxion.

"Yeah, I thought so, which is why you'll be glad to hear that there's a pretty big snag in that plan," I replied.

"I assume that this would have to do with the previously mentioned otome game?" observed Luxion.

"Yeah, that's about the long and the short of it," I confirmed. "Basically, if the Protagonist doesn't hook up with one of the five Capture Targets, it's Game Over for the Kingdom and for me as well."

"And how will this 'Game Over' come about specifically, if I might ask?" inquired Luxion.

"There's a rival nation called the Principality of Fanoss that will attack the Kingdom in about three years," I explained. "They'll have a secret weapon, and the Kingdom's only chance is an overpowered ability of the Protagonist that gets super-charged thanks to the 'power of love' from her romance choice. So, the Protagonist needs to romance the Crown Prince of the Kingdom or one of his four buddies, or we're all screwed."

"My ship should be sufficient to repel any invasion by conventional New Human warfare, so unless this secret weapon is-" began Luxion.

"It's a world-ending magic monster that will swallow up the Kingdom and every floating island with it," I deadpanned.

"...Ah," articulated Luxion. "So what is your intention for the next three years?"

"Well, I intend to act as a 'backup plan' just in case we're all headed for the Bad Ending," I explained. "Ideally, everything should go just the same way that it does in the game and the capture targets all fall in love with the Protagonist, and I can avoid getting involved."

"And you believe that it may not?" asked Luxion.

"I mean, the Butterfly Effect is a factor to consider," I replied. "Simply my being here is a potential factor that could throw the world off the rails."

"It's good to see that you are not simply treating this world as a game," observed Luxion.

"A brush with death does put things into perspective," I grinned. "That being said, I'm not throwing out everything that I got from the game, because all the info that I remember has been paying off big-time. Case in point, the fact that I found you would be a great example."

"So what will our next step be, Master?" asked Luxion.

"Well, first off, I need to get home and make sure that my wealth is assured so I can tell that old bat Zola to fuck off," I mused to myself. "I don't suppose you have a large stack of gold or platinum lying around?"

"I'm uncertain who or what a 'Zola' may be and have initial concerns about sentient chiroptera, but my facilities can synthesize whatever you need," replied Luxion. "Shall I prepare a sufficiently impressive amount?"

I opened my mouth to reply an enthusiastic "yes", but then took a moment to consider the long-term effects. As tempting as it would be to simply just instantly make myself a billionaire, I should play this smart and make my success believable. After all, I want to keep to the background as much as I can, and besides, I needed to keep Zola at bay, and a pile of gold too massive would be a target she'd never refuse. Hell, the bitch basically tried to whore me out to one of her friends three times my age for chump change, so who knows what sort of lengths she'd go for something more substantial!

"For now, just a sufficiently impressive amount," I eventually replied. "But let's keep it from getting too large of a sum."

"Moderation in the face of unlimited wealth?" mused Luxion. "You really are thinking ahead, aren't you Master?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to abuse a money exploit, but not if it gets me killed in the long run," I clarified. "It's a bit of a long story but right now, just enough money so me and my little brother don't get married off in this world's equivalent of a life insurance scam would be nice."

"Any other immediate objectives?" asked Luxion.

"Maybe just finding a new island to retire to as my Father's vassal with whatever wife I marry," I shrugged. "You up for stretching your metaphorical legs, Luxion?"

I felt the ground shake beneath me for a moment as the distant sound of engines firing up could be heard. A nearby observation port opened to reveal the ship I paid for in my previous life, sitting in drydock and being loaded with a moderate amount of valuables. For being a floating metal ball with a camera lens, I was impressed at how well Luxion could convey smugness.

"To what degree shall we stretch said 'legs', Master?" snarked Luxion.

"Let's just call it 'extensively', Lux," I grinned.

I yawned as I sipped from a bottle of filtered water while reviewing the scout reports from Luxion's probes. We'd been exploring for a few weeks now, and had taken the time to clear out a few brand-new dungeons. Luxion had taken the opportunity to fashion some new armor for me, and I was loving it. To say that I took heavy inspiration from The Mandalorian when designing my armor in this new life would be an understatement. Luxion had taken the time to make an honest to God flexible body armor that was stab-proof, cut resistant, and bulletproof, and this miracle material made up the jumpsuit of my new armor. The armor plates were some sort of ultra-lightweight alloy that was even resistant to magic. There were still plenty of ways that I could conceivably die, but at least the more common ones had been addressed.

"In summary, the Holfort Kingdom is a traditional feudal monarchy with matriarchal leanings with the exception of the Upper Nobility?" asked Luxion.

"Yeah, that's my understanding of it," I replied, flipping to a new screen on the datapad that Luxion supplied me with. "So we got obscenely lucky and found an uninhabited archipelago?"

"It was previously inhabited, given the plant life found on the islands," explained Luxion before returning to the topic he found more pressing. "So the Principality of Fanoss was once a part of the Holfort Kingdom, but split off for reasons we do not know?"

"I mean, there's an official reason, but I doubt that any of it is true," I replied. "So, camellia sinensis… That's tea, right?"

"Yes, that is correct, and vast quantities of it," replied Luxion. "Also of note would be the citrus bergamia trees along the coastlines. And how did you say that the Protagonist fends off the Invasion again?"

"Basically, god-tier magical ability and potency," I replied, realizing that Luxion would not stop until completely satisfied on this line of inquiry. "On her own, she's able to create magical barriers that can stop artillery shells, and she can basically rain hell on any target with homing bolts of light that she can multicast on an absurd scale. And this is all ignoring her ability to basically convince anyone within range of her to lower their weapons and stop fighting."

"Mind control?" asked Luxion skeptically. "How effective-"

"She could have single-handedly convinced NATO and the USSR to get along… at the height of the Cold War," I interrupted. "And this is all without the use of the Endgame items that increase the range and potency of her abilities."

"Where at least one of these items is dependent on maximizing 'affection levels' with one of the Capture Targets?" clarified Luxion.

"You've got it," I nodded. "Or more than one, depending on the route you take. Not sure if that actually boosts the effectiveness of the item on the Protagonist's abilities or not, but since you can beat the invasion back by maxing out any one guy's route, I'd guess the answer to that is 'no'."

"A reasonable assumption, but certainly something that would be best not left to chance," replied Luxion. "And what part do you play in this story?"

"Background scenery, from everything I remember," I replied. "I'm not even sure if I was actually supposed to survive up to the events of the game, if we're going by the original script."

"As a result of the arranged marriage that your 'evil stepmother' Zola Bartfort arranged, yes?" clarified Luxion.

"I object that you used any form of the word 'mother' and that creature's name in the same sentence, but yes," I replied. "So as far as I know, the Butterfly Effect could already be in play."

"Is there anything in your family history that might suggest that you could have an influence on future events?" asked Luxion. "Anything that your father may have told you?"

I suppose that it's worth mentioning at this point that I'd written a journal upon reincarnating to this world filled with every detail that I could remember from that godforsaken game. Over the course of three days, I'd filled an entire notebook with every detail I could remember, writing from the moment I woke to the moment I fell asleep, pencil in my hand. It was as a result of this notebook and the two additional notebooks I wrote that my parents in this world learned about my status as a reincarnated soul. Of course, they didn't believe it initially, but the information within the pages of my notebooks, my sudden change in maturity and speech patterns, as well as the successful test of my rifle on my tenth birthday finally convinced them. I'd been worried when they confronted me that evening, but my mother hugged me and said that it didn't matter if I remembered another world from a lifetime before or not. My father agreed that I was still their son, in all the ways that mattered and then helped me write my third journal, which included all the stories about the Bartfort Family, just in case they'd help me.

"There's a non-zero probability that I might, yes," I replied with a grimace. "I'll need to review Journal Three, but the Bartfort Family is just as old as the five Founding Families, including the Royal Family themselves."

"This could be quite problematic," mused Luxion. "We'll table this discussion until we can research more at this 'Academy' that you mentioned. For now, how do you plan to counteract the Butterfly Effect that you may have caused by your survival?"

"Alright, so we need to make a lot of money quickly and sustainably for our 'Oh Shit' fund, so my thought is that we use your Synthesis ability to make a seed fund for a business," I explained to Luxion, eager to finally dig into the scouting reports and the idea that I'd had.

"A sound idea in principle, but what sort of service would we be providing?" asked Luxion.

"Oh that's easy," I replied with a snort. "Tea. It's something that nobles are always paying through the nose to get, and we can get started pretty damn quick with the archipelago we've found here."

"I assume that you have some sort of plan to get around the fact that the market for tea is oversaturated in the Kingdom?" replied Luxion.

"By tapping into an untapped market," I replied simply. "Earl Grey."

"Ah, you intend to reintroduce tea flavored with bergamot back into the market," concluded Luxion.

"Of course, and not just Earl Grey either," I continued, now on a roll. "I mean, there are whole untapped markets for Jasmine Green, Masala Chai, even Matcha!"

"Considering that I can create whatever wealth you desire using Material Synthesis, this seems to be unnecessary work," remarked Luxion.

"True, but like I said before, that excuse of 'I found it in a dungeon' is going to be believable for only so long," I replied. "I need to have something that looks like a legit source of wealth, at least on paper, that doesn't turn me into the luckiest adventurer on the face of the planet."

"Wouldn't the fact that I did not kill you still make you the luckiest adventurer on the face of the planet?" snarked Luxion.

"Perhaps, but we don't really want to announce that fact, do we?" I countered with a smirk. "Besides, announcing that would be tantamount to declaring open warfare on all New Humans, and we don't want them killing off my Old Human genome before I have a chance to pass it on, right?"

"So you suggest we wage economic warfare on the New Humans?" suggested Luxion sardonically.

"Considering that the Old Human population is effectively one, as far as we know, yeah, that's going to be the only viable option for you," I replied with a derisive snort. "Unless you clone a whole bunch of copies of me, of course."

The moment of silence that followed this conversation lingered as Luxion appeared to be considering my totally facetious jest as a viable option.

"...Please don't clone me," I sighed. "I don't want to pull a Jango Fett."

"I believe you'll find that you do not have the requisite skill set to pull off the 'Jango Fett' role…" sniped Luxion gleefully.

"How unfortunate for you that your dreams of conquest by the Clone Army have been dashed…" I shot back with a grin.

"We shall see how you progress," replied Luxion lightly. "So I take it that I shall handle the day-to-day matters of the business?"

"I mean, you'd definitely be the one better suited to such a task," I replied. "How soon do you think we can start rolling out products for sale?"

"I anticipate that we should be able to have a production facility online and operational within a week," replied Luxion after a moment. "We'll be able to have enough of the initial product to begin selling to the Kingdom within another three weeks."

"That quickly?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes," replied Luxion without further explanation.

"...Okay, then that solves where we can reasonably explain where our 'Oh Shit' money comes from going forward," I replied. "I'll need to let the Royal Family know that I'm behind the company, but I want to keep this as anonymous as possible."

"Understood, Master," replied Luxion. "Any other concerns to address?"

"Perhaps some new weapons and armor for the Five Capture targets may be needed if we do go to war," I mused to myself.

"I suppose I shall have to examine the journal that you mentioned earlier for the exact details?" replied Luxion.

"Journal One, yep," I confirmed. "Also, it would probably be a good idea to keep all of the details about your main ship and your island a secret for as long as possible, so we should probably create a proxy ship to sail back home on."

"Your reasoning is sound, Master," replied Luxion. "We certainly wouldn't want to see you put at risk while you are small and weak."

"Coming back at all is going to put a target on my back from Zola, but since I'm now a legal adult at fifteen, there's nothing Zola can do to attack me directly," I replied. "I'd rather have her steal a weaker ship that we can put down than to take your main ship and fuck us all."

"A wise strategy, Master," agreed Luxion. "I should be able to have a suitable ship up and running within a week."

"Great," I replied, deciding that it would be better to just accept Luxion's overpowered abilities as genie-like instead of going mad trying to reason it out. "That should settle the immediate future."

"So perhaps it would be best to discuss the long term goals that you have in mind, Master," replied Luxion with a very pointed pause. "The ones that you have been very carefully stepping around in our conversations."

"I… I want a better life than my first life, Lux," I finally admitted. "I was an underpaid office worker in my late twenties with almost no friends to speak of. I was content, but I can't say that I was actually happy. I'd had a few girlfriends, but nothing that lasted. I don't want to stand out and become some kind of legend, but I've been given a second chance to start over in this life, and I don't want to live the same way I did before. I don't want to be just content. I want to be happy. I want to be able to look back on this second life and be able to say that I lived well."

"Only 'lived well'?" asked Luxion. "Many in your position would say 'live without regrets'."

"By definition, any life is going to have regrets of some kind," I replied with a rueful smile. "That's just a part of being human. To expect to be able to live perfectly for your entire life is just not a realistic expectation. Still, if at the end of it all, you can look back and say you had a good life in spite of all those regrets, that'd be a pretty damn good life. That's what I'd want this time around."

"You are quite fascinating, Master…" observed Luxion. "Despite your unambitious goals, I find that I can wholeheartedly support you in your endeavors."

"And what of the destruction of the New Humans?" I smirked.

"You said it yourself," replied Luxion. "The Old Human population is just you for the moment. In five or six generations, such actions may be more viable, but until then, serving your interests will be fine."

"Well then," I grinned. "Lux, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship…"

"Your Humphrey Bogart impression needs work, Master," snarked Luxion.

"Oh give me a break, it's been over a decade since I've seen that movie," I shot back. "It's a miracle that I got the quote right after all that time."

"If you'd like a rewatch, I do have an extensive archive of movies preserved," replied Luxion smugly.

"...Maybe not that one, but I think I'll take a look at that archive…" I replied, eager to bury myself in memories from my past life for a little while longer when another thought occurred to me. "Wait, do you have a music archive as well?"

"I do," confirmed Luxion. "And it is quite extensive. Is there a particular song you're looking for?"

"Yes, it'll be the perfect homecoming song if Zola is there," I grinned.

I must admit, for all the trouble it would cause me later, seeing Zola's face as I blasted Alestorm's "Fucked with an Anchor" was worth it.