She wasn’t spacing out; her thoughts were ripples under moonlight, circling deeper and deeper.

Earlier, copying a certain black-and-white mouse, she “borrowed” a few books from the temple like a shadowy cat slipping past a sleeping shrine.

Now she roughly grasped this world’s power scale, like sketching mountains in fog and finding their ridgelines.

Humans with talent could wield magic; their ranks ran D to S, like steps cut into a cliff.

Above S, only one ever appeared—chosen by the gods, then lifted like a star into godhood.

Mana came from nature, wind in the pines and light on water; when drawn in, it took a color shaped by the body, like dyes soaking into cloth.

Different colors meant different forces: white for holy light, blue for water, green for the purest nature mana, fresh as spring moss.

But green was also the “most useless,” a leaf bright but brittle; it meant your body fit no other path, and absorption was all it did.

With green mana, most spells refused to bloom; only coaxing plants to grow, and a bare-bones Magic Cannon, would grudgingly answer, like seeds in poor soil.

Almost no one had green mana, so no one cared to till that field; it sat at the bottom of the pecking order like a weed by the road.

The Magic Cannon also guzzled mana like a furnace, so a normal caster fired once and slumped like a kite with a cut string.

You’d end up like that edgy little mage who only knows Explosion—one boom, then face-down in the dust.

Humans ranked physical strength too, also D to S, like forging steel to different tempers.

Hitting S in body was easier than in magic; if you could take an A-rank mage’s full strike and stay standing, you wore that badge like a mountain badge.

So S-rank warriors outnumbered S-rank mages, blades in a field standing taller than wands.

Humans also used tech, just like in her previous life; steel birds and iron beasts—planes and tanks—rolled and roared, redressing gaps with other races like bridges across a gorge.

Other races were filed by age; the older, the mightier, tree rings turned to iron—ancient elves, ancient dragons, all perched on high shelves of legend.

Ling didn’t care; those dusty labels felt like dried leaves to her, crackling but flavorless.

The Undead had existed, people said, but the gods erased them like snuffing candles in a shrine.

What a bore; she had wanted to test an undead legion, banners like withered reeds, but that door slammed shut like a tomb lid.

A heartbeat later, her thoughts drifted like a leaf on current; curiosity pooled—what race was she?

When she leaned toward “human,” the memory of a power that made even a God-King flinch rose like a storm front, and human no longer fit.

She didn’t look like any other race either; frustration tightened like a knot, when that strange book fluttered up before her like a sparrow.

It opened itself with whispering pages, and a bold “Character Profile” spread out like a stage spotlight.

...

Right—she’d almost forgotten this weird book was a novel; how could a novel not flash the protagonist sheet like a title card?

[Main Character Profile] (Latest Data)

Name: Yufan Ling (What the—comes with a name?)

Sex: Female (…)

Race: Yokai (Never heard of it—figures, the MC gets a different species.)

Strength: ??? [Not at the limit, impossible to judge]

Speed: ??? [Not at the limit, impossible to judge]

Body Toughness: SSS [Standing against Ancient Ultimate Magic is no problem]

Mana: SSS [Near-infinite, yet still finite]

Mind: SSS [Soul at an undying threshold]

Life: ??? [Unmeasurable]

Skills

[Magic Cannon] LV.max

Description: There’s nothing one Magic Cannon can’t solve. If there is, fire another. (Short version: boom and be done.)

(Expanded Skill: Pure Mana Shield. Unfurl the Magic Cannon outward into a circular shield; it assimilates all spell attacks into pure nature mana, erasing them. As long as intake exceeds burn, it’s theoretically invincible.)

[Perfect Restoration] LV.max

Description: If it’s alive, I’ll save it—even a god, and I’ll make you watch!

Weapon

[Script] LV.???

Description: Want to know what this book does? Go seek it. I left everything there...

Auxiliary Function: Infinite storage space

After reading the so-called profile, silence pooled in Ling like ink; was she… unbeatable?

She bowed her head in a thinking pose, a shadow hooding her face like a willow’s shade.

First, the facts: she’d soloed the so-called strongest god race, sweeping them like wildfire through dry grass.

Even their God-King had died to her fury, a thunderhead that split the sky.

In theory, her body no longer took harm, a cliff face against waves; as for offense, she couldn’t cast flashy fireballs or lightning blades, firework-pretty but thin.

But imagine this: someone mocks you one second, and the next they’re a crater—clean, loud, and oddly stylish, like a hammer on glass.

If this really was a novel, then she’d toppled the final boss in the prologue, curtain falling before the orchestra warmed up.

Shouldn’t the story end and roll credits like a dusk sun sinking behind hills?

Yet the plot marched on like drumbeats, which screamed invincible-protagonist route: gather a harem, punch crooked nobles, go adventuring like a smiling saint.

Don’t get mad unless the sky falls; hide your power under silk; when insulted, just smile like a breeze and let it pass.

Mmm...

What a breathtaking, cliché-stuffed novel—sugar on sugar, pattern on pattern.

But!

This isn’t a novel.

Everything I do can follow my heart like a river finding its sea; I can be a savior, or a world-ending Demon King.

Heat surged through Ling like sunrise over snow; excitement swelled until the lake’s mirror warped, her smile twisting like a crescent blade.

“Hahahahaha! So I—am a being who can rule this world! Hahahahaha!”

Imitating a certain Ancient King’s laugh, her arrogance rolled out like thunder over plains; ripples marched across the water until the reflection faded into shivering light.