Reincarnation of the magicless Pinoy
Encounter 1: Girlfriendless reincarnation! Last mission
Rowan Elian Grey sat in his small, cluttered room, staring at the walls adorned with memories of his past missions. He let out a deep sigh, his eyes wandering to the clock on his nightstand. It was 10 PM, and he was feeling a little restless.
"Man, I'm almost 40," he muttered to himself. "And I still don't have a wife, not even a girlfriend. Tsk. I can't get a girl even with this face."
He stood up and walked over to the mirror, admiring his reflection. His chiseled features, sharp jawline, and piercing blue eyes made him look like a Hollywood action star. His dark hair was cut short, and his broad shoulders and chiseled physique made him look like a bodybuilder.
Rowan couldn't help but feel a little smug about his looks. He had always been told he was handsome, and he had to admit, he liked the attention. But despite his rugged good looks, he had never been able to find someone special.
As he gazed at his reflection, his phone rang, shrill and insistent. Rowan picked it up, his voice low and even. "Grey."
"Rowan, it's Rachel. We have a situation," his team leader said, her voice tight with urgency.
Rowan's instincts kicked in, and he sat up straight. "What's the situation?"
"We've got a hostage crisis in a high-rise building in downtown Manila. The Katipunan Liberation Front has taken over the building, demanding independence for the southern islands. They're holding multiple hostages, and we have reason to believe they might be planning to use explosives."
Rowan's mind began to race with the possibilities. He had worked with Rachel on several high-risk missions, and he trusted her judgment. "What's the plan?"
"We're assembling a team to extract the hostages. We need you to join us for a briefing. Can you get to the safe house in 30 minutes?"
Rowan was already moving, grabbing his gear and heading out the door. "I'm on my way."
The drive to the safe house was a blur, Rowan's mind focused on the mission ahead. When he arrived, Rachel and the rest of the team were already there, poring over blueprints of the building and discussing strategy.
Rowan joined the briefing, his eyes scanning the layout of the building. He listened intently as Rachel outlined the plan, his mind racing with possibilities.
As the briefing concluded, the team walked towards their van, their gear and equipment at the ready. Rowan turned to Mike, a smirk on his face. "Man, after this mission, how about you treat us to a drink? I hear you're getting married?"
Mike's face turned bright red as he chuckled nervously. "Well, I want to surprise you guys. But well, I can't hide things from you guys. Hehehe, so sure, after this, I'll treat you a drink hehehe."
Tom, who was walking alongside Mike, threw his arms over Mike's neck. "Come on, brother! You should be proud! You're getting married! Finally, you'll conquer the lands of unvirginness!"
The team burst out laughing, and Alex chimed in, "So who's the best man?"
Mike scratched his neck, looking sheepish. "It's Rowan hehehe."
Rowan's face lit up with a warm smile as he looked at Mike. "Aww, man, thanks, Mike! I'm honored!" He walked over to Mike and gave him a hearty clap on the back. "I'm happy for you, buddy. You deserve it."
The team's banter and laughter filled the air as they loaded into the van. As they drove to the building, the mood was light, despite the danger that lay ahead.
But as they arrived at the scene, the team's demeanor changed. They were focused, their eyes scanning the building for any sign of the terrorists.
"Alright, team, let's move out," Rachel said, her voice firm.
The team nodded, their faces set with determination. They moved out, their footsteps quiet as they approached the building. Rowan took point, his eyes locked onto the entrance. He knew that this was it – the moment of truth.
The team's training and experience kicked in as they moved into position. They were ready for whatever lay ahead.
But little did they know, this mission would be their last. A bomb was waiting, and it would change everything.
The team moved stealthily towards the building, their eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. Rowan took point, his gun at the ready, as he approached the entrance.
As they entered the building, the team's training and experience kicked in. They moved swiftly and quietly, their footsteps echoing off the walls.
Suddenly, Rowan's earpiece crackled to life. "Rowan, we've got movement on the third floor," Rachel's voice whispered.
Rowan nodded, his eyes locked onto the stairs. "Roger that, I'm on my way. Mike and the others go I'll check the upper floor." He ordered and When Mike and the others want to object suddenly they hear a screams so they nodded."be careful cap!" They said and he just smiled.
Rowan reached the upper floor, his footsteps echoing through the deserted hallway. He turned a corner, and his eyes locked onto Hunter Solomon, who stood with a confident smirk on his face. And hurriedly hid at one of the pillar as Hunter fired hitting the pillar." Hey ,hey , hey! Looks you'd been busy these days huh!? Don't you have day off?" Rowan taunts hunter . And hunter just click his tongue and fire another shots.
"And you'd been busy intercepting my businesses!" Hunter sneered at him and Rowan just laughed at him. "Well,..yeah you should try, it's fun to do that! We'd been doing this in years. How about we end this now?!"
"Heh! Yeah I'll end you right here right now!" Hunter shouted. As they ready themselves.
The air was charged with tension as the two enemies faced off. Hunter's eyes gleamed with anticipation, and Rowan's jaw clenched in determination.
Without warning, Hunter lunged at Rowan, gun blazing. Rowan dove to the side, avoiding the bullets by mere inches. He retaliated with shots of his own, but Hunter dodged and weaved, his movements lightning-fast.
The hallway became a battleground, with Rowan and Hunter exchanging shots and dodging for cover. The sound of gunfire reverberated through the hall, and the smell of smoke and sweat hung heavy in the air.
As the fight intensified, Rowan and Hunter found themselves running out of ammunition. The silence that followed was oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of heavy breathing.
"Tsk" hunter click his tongue in frustration.
Without hesitation, Hunter charged at Rowan, and the two fighters clashed in a flurry of punches and kicks. The fight spilled out onto the balcony, with Rowan and Hunter grappling at the railing.
In a final, desperate bid to end the fight, Rowan and Hunter wrestled, their bodies locked in a fierce struggle. The outcome hung in the balance, and only one could emerge victorious.
In the end, it was Hunter who lost his footing, plummeting toward the ground below. As he fell, he locked eyes with Rowan, his voice twisted in a malevolent curse. "You'll die too, Rowan... mark my words." The sound of Hunter's body hitting the ground echoed up to Rowan, a grim reminder of the cost of their battle."man, this guys is twisted as ever! But yeah looking forward to it!"
He moved swiftly down the stairs going back to his team, his gun at the ready. As he catch up to them The rest of the team followed close behind, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger.
As they reached the third floor, Rowan saw a group of terrorists huddled together, their guns pointed at a group of hostages.
Rowan's training kicked in, and he moved swiftly, taking out the terrorists one by one. The rest of the team followed his lead, their guns firing in unison.
As he cleared the room, Rowan's eyes scanned the hostages, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw one familiar face. It was her! The girl he had slept with two years ago! They had promised to meet someday when he wasn't so busy, but the promise had slipped his mind. And now, maybe this was fate.
Rowan's eyes lingered on her face for a brief moment, and he felt a spark of excitement. He had always meant to ask her out officially, but life had gotten in the way. Now, as he looked at her, he made a mental note to do just that, after this mission.
He briefly looked down into the window, catching a glimpse of her terrified face. She was still alive, and Rowan felt a sense of relief wash over him.
But he didn't have time to dwell on that now. The terrorists were still a threat, and he had to focus on the mission.
Just as they were about to leave, Rachel's voice crackled through his earpiece again. "Rowan, we've got another hostage on the second floor. Can you check it out?"
Rowan nodded, his eyes locking onto Mike's. "I'm on my way."
Mike stepped forward, his gun at the ready. "I'm coming with you, Rowan."
Rowan hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. "Alright, let's go."
They moved swiftly down the stairs, their guns at the ready. As they reached the second floor, Rowan saw a door slightly ajar. He pushed it open, his gun leading the way.
Inside, he saw a young girl, no more than 10 years old, tied to a chair. A bomb was strapped to her waist, the timer counting down from 2 minutes.
Rowan's heart sank, and he moved swiftly to untie the girl. Mike helped him, and together they quickly freed her.
As they turned to leave, Rowan saw the bomb's timer ticking away. He knew they had to get out of there, fast.
He grabbed the girl and handed her to Mike. "Take her to the window," he shouted.
Mike nodded, and they moved swiftly to the window. Rowan pushed Mike out the window, and he landed safely in the big swimming pool below.
As Rowan turned to follow, everything went black.
The last thing he remembered was the sound of the bomb exploding, and the feeling of being lifted off the ground. And then, nothing.
The explosion rocked the building, sending debris flying everywhere. The sound was deafening, and the heat was intense.
As the dust settled, Mike looked up from the swimming pool, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of Rowan. He had seen him push him out the window, but he hadn't seen him follow.
"Rowan!" Mike shouted, his voice hoarse from the smoke.
There was no response.
Mike's heart sank, and he scrambled out of the pool. He ran towards the building, his eyes scanning the rubble for any sign of his friend.
As he reached the entrance, he saw Rachel and the rest of the team rushing towards him. "Mike, we need to get out of here!" Rachel shouted.
Mike nodded, his eyes still scanning the area for Rowan. "I need to find him," he said, his voice firm.
Rachel nodded, and together they began to search the rubble. They called out Rowan's name, but there was no response.
As they searched, Mike couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He had seen Rowan push him out the window, but he hadn't seen him follow. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.
Suddenly, Mike heard a faint noise coming from the rubble. He rushed towards it, his heart pounding in his chest.
As he reached the spot, he saw a figure buried under the debris. It was Rowan.
Mike's heart sank, and he rushed to his friend's side. He began to dig through the rubble, his hands shaking with fear.
As he finally uncovered Rowan's face, he saw that his friend was lifeless. Mike's heart skipped a beat as he felt for a pulse.
There was none.
Rowan's eyes were frozen, staring up at the sky. Mike's vision blurred as tears filled his eyes.
"Rowan, no," Mike whispered, his voice shaking with grief.
The team gathered around, their faces somber. Rachel placed a hand on Mike's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mike. He was a good man."
Mike nodded, his eyes still fixed on Rowan's lifeless body. He felt a sense of emptiness wash over him. They had been through so much together, and now Rowan was gone.
As they stood there, frozen in grief, Mike couldn't help but think about the memories they had shared. The laughter, the adventures, the quiet moments when it was just the two of them.
Rowan was more than just a friend; he was a brother.
Mike's eyes dropped, and he let out a deep breath. He knew that he would never forget Rowan, and that their friendship would live on in his heart.
The team stood there for a moment, paying their respects to their fallen friend. Then, slowly, they began to move away, leaving Rowan's body behind.
As they walked, Mike felt a sense of sadness wash over him. He knew that things would never be the same without Rowan by his side.
But as he looked up at the sky, he saw something that made his heart skip a beat. A strange, glowing light seemed to be hovering above the building.
Mike's eyes narrowed, and he felt a sense of unease. What was that light? And why did it seem to be watching him?
Suddenly, the light vanished, leaving Mike feeling confused and disoriented.
He looked around, but the others seemed oblivious to what he had just seen.
Mike's eyes dropped, and he let out a deep breath. He knew that he would never forget Rowan, and that their friendship would live on in his heart.
But as he walked away from the building, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Something that would change everything.
Rowan's eyes fluttered open, and he was met with a blurry, unfamiliar world. He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. As his eyes focused, he saw a woman's face hovering above him. She had a kind smile and piercing green eyes.
"I'm alive?" he muttered to himself, a mix of excitement and relief flooding his mind. "Man, I'm alive! I hope that idiot is ok. And also the kid? I hope she's ok too. And of course, to my future girlfriend! Heh! I'm alive and kicking! I'll have our first official date..."
But before he could finish his thought, the woman picked him up, cradling him in her arms. Rowan's eyes widened in shock as he realized he was being held like a baby.
"Woah, woah, wait wait woman, easy easi-eh? Wait a minute?! Am I that so lightweight so she can pick up a grown ass man?" he murmured to himself, confusion and disbelief written all over his face.
As he looked around, he caught a glimpse of a mirror on his side. He turned his head to face the mirror, and his eyes widened in horror. Instead of his familiar face, he saw a baby staring back at him. His eyes were wide with shock, and his mouth was open in a silent scream.
"The fuck happen to me!!" he screamed inside, his mind reeling with confusion and panic. But his outside self, the baby him, was crying, wailing in distress.
The woman tried to calm him down, rocking him gently in her arms. "Shh, little one, it's okay. You're safe now."
Rowan's cries slowly subsided, replaced by sniffling and gasping for air. He looked up at the woman, his eyes still wide with fear and confusion.
The woman smiled, her eyes filled with warmth and kindness. She began to gently rock him, singing a soft lullaby.
As Rowan listened to her soothing voice, he felt his eyelids growing heavy. Despite his confusion and fear, he couldn't fight the exhaustion. His eyes slowly closed, and he drifted off to sleep.
---
One year. That's how long I've been stuck in this soft, chubby little body, crawling around like some oversized baby while my brain screams tactical assessments and escape routes that don't exist yet. Rolien Grey. Yeah, they mashed my old name together—Rolien from the first half, Grey from the family line. Close enough that it still feels like me staring back from a mirror made of someone else's face. Those bright green eyes? Same sharp stare I used to give targets through a scope. The curly brown mop? New, but it flops the same way when I shake my head in frustration.
From the bits I've pieced together—overheard conversations, bedtime stories, the way servants whisper when they think I'm napping—this world is no joke. Four major powers dominate the continent, and my family's planted right in the heart of the biggest one.
Top dog is the Cecerean Empire, sprawling across fertile plains, jagged mountain ranges, and half the eastern coastline. Ruled by Emperor Albrecht Whikest Cecerean the Fourth—firstborn son of the late Albrecht the Third. Guy's got six kids, and the succession drama is already thick. The one name that keeps popping up is Prince Keane, the current favorite for crown prince. Then there's Prince Darius—older brother, apparently turned down the position outright. Refused it. Ballsy move. I respect that kind of quiet rebellion. Makes me wonder what kind of mess is brewing behind those gilded palace doors.
The other big players? Valkarian Empire to the frozen north—ruthless, militaristic, always eyeing expansion. Kingdom of Darvin in the deep underground ranges—dwarves, master smiths, hoarders of rare ores and grudges. Kingdom of Cyrus out west—more merchant-focused, alliances shifting like sand, but their fleets are no joke.
And then there's us. House Grey. Grand Duke Edric Grey—my new dad—and Lady Lirien Grey—mom. We're not some ancient blue-blood line that traces back to gods or whatever. Our great-grandfather was just a soldier, one of the lucky bastards who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the first king of what would become the empire during the Great Calamity. Back then, the God of the Forsaken Realm ripped open a tear in reality itself—monsters poured through, skies burned black, whole cities vanished overnight. Great-grandpa helped seal the breach, saved the king's life, and got rewarded with a duchy and a title that stuck. From there, the family climbed. Slowly at first. Then my father happened.
Edric Grey. Slayer of Curses. Ruler of Death's King. One of the legendary Seven Heroes—or Dragon Slayers, depending on who's telling the tale. Him and his six companions took down seven Calamity-class dragons. True Dragons. Not the overgrown lizards you hear about in tavern songs—these things were ancient, intelligent, mountain-sized forces of nature that could warp reality just by breathing. Why "true"? Hell if I know. Nobody explains it to the toddler. I asked once—well, babbled—and got a pat on the head. Real helpful.
Dad's ranked third among those seven in raw power. Pinnacle of what this world considers strength. He doesn't talk about it much, but when he does, his voice drops low, eyes distant, like he's still smelling sulfur and charred scales. The man commands respect without trying. Servants straighten when he walks by. Even the emperor sends personal letters. And yeah, he's scary strong—death magic, curse manipulation, the works. Mom's no slouch either; her healing and life magic saved half the battlefield during those dragon hunts.
Magic's real here. Tangible. Breathable. Everyone talks about it like it's oxygen. Four main elements at the core: fire, water, earth, air. Most people awaken to just one during their Coming-of-Age ceremony—usually around age 8 or 9, when the body stabilizes enough to handle the surge. Rare cases get two. Three is basically myth. Mom has two (life and light), Dad has two (death and shadow), Elian—my big brother, almost 13 now—has one (probably earth or metal, judging by how he arm-wrestles the guards and wins). Elara, my big sister, 9 years old and already awakened last year right after I was born. She's got two, just like Mom—life and wind. Exact mini version of Lady Lirien: same soft silver hair, same gentle eyes that can turn steel when she's pissed, same quiet strength that makes you feel safe and small at the same time.
The awakening isn't just about elements. It pairs with a Job Class. Knight, Mage, Archer, Assassin, whatever fits your soul. Fighters—knights especially—tend to lean hard into physical enhancement. Something called Kigen wraps around them like living armor, boosting strength, speed, durability. Trade-off? It eats up "slots." Harder to stack multiple elements because the body's channeling so much into raw power. Mages get the opposite—more attributes possible, but physically fragile unless they train like hell.
Me? Nothing. Zip. No glow, no spark, no nothing during my early checks. They say some kids are late bloomers. Others… just don't have it. Magicless. In a world where nobles live and die by mana, that's a death sentence wrapped in silk. But I don't care. I've survived worse with zero supernatural bullshit—just training, intel, and balls. This body might be soft now, but it'll harden. And when it does, I'll carve my own path. No magic? Fine. I'll make tools. Weapons. Alliances. Whatever it takes.
Looking at myself in the polished silver mirror the maids hold up—those angelic features, too pretty, too perfect—I smirk. Same old me under there. Handsome devil. Won't let this face go to waste. I'll find a girl who likes sharp minds over glowing hands. Maybe more than one. Life's too short—even in a second run.
For now, though? I crawl. I watch. I listen. And I plan.
The world's big. Dangerous. Beautiful. And I'm just getting started.
To be continued...
---rewriten version 😉