I am six years old now. It is a strange age to be when your mind is actually thirty six. I have been in this world for six years.
That is more than one Two thousand days of acting like a normal kid. It is exhausting.
However, there is a silver lining. I can finally speak in full sentences without people looking at me like I am a demon. My parents, Elara and Gareth, have decided that I am simply a very bright boy.
They are proud of my vocabulary. They think I am a quick learner. They do not realize that I am actually a middle aged man from a different dimension who is just bored.
Being able to talk normally is a huge relief. I can express my needs without gurgling. I can tell my mother I am going out to play. I can talk to my father about the farm.
I have to be careful not to use words that are too advanced. I try to sound like a smart kid rather than a corporate executive. It is a fine line to walk.
If I slip up and start talking about quarterly projections or market trends, I am in big trouble. Fortunately, my past life as a corporate slave taught me how to blend into the background.
I was an expert at being invisible in a cubicle. I am an expert at being an ordinary child now.
My secret training routine has become quite advanced.
I have spent the last year working on my efficiency theory. I do not practice big spells. I do not try to make explosions. Instead, I focus on precision. I want to be able to do things with a single drop of mana that other mages cannot do with a gallon. I design my own exercises.
I try to form complex shapes with my energy. I try to make it as thin and sharp as possible. I want my magic to be like a surgical scalpel rather than a heavy club. It is the ultimate way to be lazy. If I can achieve the same result with less energy, I do not have to work as hard.
Today, I reached a new milestone. I sat on a flat rock in the middle of a clearing. I focused on the warm current in my chest. I pulled out a tiny amount of mana. I did not let it expand. I squeezed it until it was as thin as a hair.
Then I squeezed it again. I visualized it as a long, nearly invisible thread. It was difficult to maintain the shape. It required constant focus. My efficiency was the only thing making it possible.
I stretched the thread out from my fingertip. It reached toward a fallen leaf that was about ten feet away. I looped the thread around the stem of the leaf. I felt a slight tug in my mind.
Then, I pulled. The leaf lifted off the ground. It floated toward me, suspended by the mana thread. I moved my finger, and the leaf danced in the air. It was a perfect success. I had manipulated a physical object from a distance using an amount of mana that was almost immeasurable.
This proved my theory. Precision control can absolutely substitute for raw power.
I was so excited that I stood up and tried to do a victory dance. After training My six year old legs were not ready for that level of coordination.
I took two steps and tripped over a large tree root. I went flying forward and landed face first in a pile of pine needles.
"Stupid child body," I muttered as I wiped the dirt off my face. My dignity was once again shattered by physics.
I was about to get up and try the thread again when I heard voices. They were coming from a path nearby. I froze. I do not like people. People are a source trouble. I crept toward a thick bush and peeked through the leaves.
I saw a group of four children. Three of them were older, probably around eight or nine. They were standing in a circle around a smaller boy.
The smaller one was crying. Holding a wooden toy sword. The leader of the older boys was a tall, mean looking kid named Sam. He was the son of a wealthy farmer in the village.
He was always surrounded by two lackeys who did whatever he said.
"Give it here, weakling," Sam said. He reached out and tried to grab the wooden sword. "You don't deserve a sword. You don't even have enough mana to light a match. My father says your family is a disgrace."
The smaller one shook his head. He was sobbing so hard he couldn't speak. He clutched the toy tighter.
I recognized this immediately. It was a classic hero saves the victim scenario. In every anime I ever watched, the protagonist would jump out now. He would give a speech about friendship and justice. Then he would beat up the bullies and earn the eternal gratitude of the victim.
I am not that guy, I thought. I absolutely want no part of this.
I do not care about wooden swords. I do not care about village drama. My goal is to live a quiet, lazy life. Getting involved with bullies is the opposite of a quiet life. It leads to parents getting involved. It leads to feuds. It leads to more work. I decided to sneak away. I started to back up slowly, keeping my eyes on the group.
I was doing a great job until I stepped on a dry branch. It snapped with a loud, sharp sound. It echoed through the quiet forest.
The four boys stopped what they were doing. They all turned their heads and looked directly at my bush.
"Who's there?" Sam shouted.
I cursed my luck. I realized I couldn't hide anymore. I stood up and stepped out from behind the bush. I tried to look as innocent and dumb as possible. I put on a blank expression and blinked a few times.
"Oh, it is just the Arnett kid," Sam said. He let out a mean laugh. his friends joined in. "The kid with no magic. I heard the priest say he was a dud."
"I am just playing," I said. I tried to make my voice sound high and childish. "I was looking for a pretty rock."
Sam walked toward me. He ignored the boy with the wooden sword for a moment. He wanted a new target. He was bigger than me. He towered over me. He looked down with a sneer.
"Get out of here, dud," He said. "This is our spot. We don't want losers like you around here."
"Okay," I said. I turned to walk away. I was more than happy to leave.
But Sam was not done. He wanted to show off for his friends. As I turned, he reached out and tried to give me a hard shove in the back. He wanted to send me tumbling into the dirt.
My adult mind saw it coming before his hand even moved. I could see the shift in his shoulders. I could see his foot plant.
To a nine year old, it was a fast move. To me, it was like watching a movie in slow motion.
I did not use magic. I did not need to. I simply took a small step to the side.
I moved just enough to avoid his hand. Sam had put all of his weight into the shove. When he hit nothing but air, his momentum carried him forward.
He tried to catch himself, but he was off balance. He tripped over his own feet and went flying.
He landed face first in a patch of thick, wet mud near the edge of the path. There was a loud, wet squelch.
His two friends gasped. The smaller boy stopped crying and stared with wide eyes.
Sam stayed down for a second. Then he pushed himself up. His face was covered in dark, smelly mud. It was in his hair. It was on his clothes. He looked ridiculous.
I immediately realized I had made a huge mistake. I should have just let him shove me. It would have been a small bruise and some dirty clothes. Now, I had humiliated him in front of his friends. I had made it look like he was a clumsy idiot.
Sam wiped mud out of his eyes. He was shaking with rage. His face was turning red under the filth.
"You did that!" He screamed. "You tripped me!"
"I did not," I said calmly. I kept my voice flat. "You fell down. I was just standing here."
"You lie!" He shouted. He pointed a muddy finger at me. "I am going to tell everyone. I am going to tell my father that you attacked me. No one is going to believe a dud like you over me."
I felt a headache coming on. This was exactly what I was talking about. This was social politics. It was just like the office. One person makes a mistake, and they try to blame the person with the lowest status. Sam was a wealthy farmer's son. I was the kid with the pathetic mana pool. In a small village, reputation is everything.
"That is a lot of effort for a fall in the mud," I said. I forgot to use my baby voice for a second. My tone was dry and bored.
Sam narrowed his eyes. He looked confused for a moment. He didn't understand why a six year old was talking to him like an adult.
But his anger was too strong for him to think about it for long. He just growled and stomped away, followed by his two friends.
The smaller boy was still there.
He was looking at me with a strange expression. It was not fear. It was something else. I did not want to stick around to find out what it was. I turned and started walking back toward my farm.
I have been in this world only for few years and I have already made enemies, I thought. I was internally ranting at the top of my lungs. I haven't even started my harem plans and I'm already dealing with petty bullies.
This is exactly why I wanted to avoid standing out. I wanted to be the background character. I wanted to be the lazy guy who no one notices.
Now I have a nine year old rival. Great. Just great. Next thing I know, there will be a dark lord or a hero prophecy knocking on my door. I need to lower my profile. I need to be even more unremarkable. Low profile, Cid. Low profile.
I kept walking, focusing on the dusty path. I was so busy worrying about my future that I did not notice the small child behind me. He was still holding his wooden sword. He watched me until I disappeared into the trees. His eyes were wide and full of admiration. He looked like he had just seen a miracle.
I reached the house and saw my mother waving from the porch. I put on a big, fake smile and ran toward her.
"I found a cool stick, Mama!" I shouted.
I was back in character. But as I went inside, I couldn't shake the feeling that my quiet life was already starting to crumble. Being a genius is hard. Being a lazy genius is even harder.