Reincarnated in another world with a Gunsmithing System

A pointless reincarnation

Ezra lay awake all night, unable to get his failure out of his head. Every single time he tried to sleep, he heard those mocking voices and the cackling faces flashed before his eyes.

Recalling all the humiliation and mockery only made him more anxious and uneasy. He tossed and turned in his bed, cursing his fate.

He could have never imagined the prospect of his bright future would be snatched away by one freak accident.

“What good is this reincarnation if I am destined to live and die as a cripple?” Ezra questioned as he sat up straight on his bed and threw off his quilt.

In his previous life, Ezra had been a young schoolboy whose grades were consistently low and who was as athletic as a lazy mule.

However, he had always been a good friend to the ones he valued, and would always help those in need even if it was at his own expense.

Ezra faintly recalled his past life, and the scene of his death only flashed in his mind in blurry fragments. He remembered getting hit by a truck while trying to save a little kid.

What happened next was a twisted mess of hazy images and muffled screams and helpless cries of people around him. It hurt only for a few minutes, and after that, everything went blank like a freshly wiped blackboard.

When Ezra had been given a chance to be reincarnated in another world, he had never expected to be born with such a rare talent.

In this world, where magic was as common as the wind, sorcerers and mages used to dictate terms to the commoners, but everything changed with the advancement of technology and the appearance of Gunners.

Over the last century, magical firearms had become the most powerful weapons, and the magic casters had been ousted from their position of power.

Gunners now sat on top of the hierarchy, crushing all who opposed them with iron fists.

But even among the Gunners, there were different ranks based on two key factors: magic power and magic talent level.

Ezra had always been a gifted child as he was born with E-level magic talent which placed him above every teenager in the town of Aranor. And there were only a handful of older Gunners who could match his level.

While Ezra could increase his magic power with practice and constant training, there was no way for him to fully unlock the potential of his current magic talent level since his hands had been crippled in the accident.

This was the reason why Ezra was stuck in a rut.

Even though he had been born with a gift, fate had taken it away, reducing him to a pathetic cripple who could never learn the special skills a person of his caliber ought to know.

Since Ezra wasn’t a new soul but had the experiences of his past life with him, it enabled him to absorb magic power much faster and learn quicker than his peers.

However, his trembling hands prevented him from fully realizing his potential and unlocking all that his talent level had to offer.

After reminiscing about his happy past for a whole hour, Ezra rubbed the sleep from his eyes and got up from his bed. He reached for the nearby bookshelf and pulled out seven different books on herbal healing and alchemy.

Ezra had been studying the ancient healing techniques for almost a month now, but he hadn’t been able to find anything that would help to fix his condition.

He had tried every ointment and every shady potion available at the apothecary and even tried wearing enchanted amulets and rings. But nothing had worked.

His hands were still crippled, and he could barely hold a gun straight for a couple of seconds.

Memories of that fateful night were still fresh in Ezra's mind. Everything had been going perfectly till the uneventful hour when his carriage crashed into a wagon, causing a nearly fatal accident.

That day, Ezra had survived, but his life had changed forever due to the injuries sustained by his arms. He had fractured his left hand’s middle finger, and his right hand had been almost completely crushed.

As Ezra was sifting through the various healing remedies, a tall man dressed in a simple cotton robe entered the room. There was a golden six-shot revolver at his waist and a dragon medallion hanging from his neck.

“I see that you are still awake at this late hour,” the man said, closing the door behind him.

Startled by the sudden intrusion, Ezra looked up with a jerk. “Da…Father,” he uttered in the feeblest voice before clearing his throat. “I was just trying to find a way to fix things.”

The man who had just entered the room was Lord Sebastian Romanov, the head of the Romanov family and Prime Patriarch of the Dragon Claw clan, the most renowned clan of Gunners in the town of Aranor.

Lord Sebastian quietly sat down on the bed, and looked at Ezra, completely ignoring the books scattered around. “When you were born, I thought you were a gifted child. And you proved me right for several years. I was proud to call you my son…and still am. But I think you can see that things have changed.”

“I will fix everything once my arm is—”

“We have already tried every herb, every potion, every therapeutic technique, and every sacred relic,” Lord Sebastian said, cutting him off. “Your arm isn’t going to get any better, and I think it’s time you accept the truth.”

“I am just asking for another chance, father. I will try hard in next year’s—”

“Your fate has already been sealed, my boy,” Lord Sebastian interrupted. “You cannot become a Gunner. The Council had been pressuring me for a year, and I always tried to be partial toward you because you were my son. But I cannot go against the Elders. As the Prime Patriarch of the Dragon Claw clan, I must be impartial. Hence, I have decided you will no longer be training to become a Gunner.”

“You cannot just decide my future like that! I have been training so hard. Joining the Dragon Claw clan as a Gunner is all I have ever wanted, father!” Ezra burst out, raising his voice.

Lord Sebastian noticed Ezra's clenched fist trembling beside him, and he shook his head. “You are unfit to become a Gunner. A Gunner of the Dragon Claw clan is not a mere figurehead. You will be required to participate in tournaments, quell rebellions, join monster hunts, and even fight mages. I do not see how you could ever accomplish that.”

“I am an E-level magic user!” Ezra retorted sharply. “All I need is another—”

“The level of your magic talent does not matter if you cannot even shoot a gun properly. Your talent means nothing without the skills. And in your current condition, you cannot unlock any of the unique E-level skills.”

Lord Sebastian rose to go but turned back before leaving. “There are other careers in Aranor that might suit you better.” Taking a look at the books scattered on the bed, he added, “Perhaps you might become a famous scholar or a mage someday. I hear there are many gifted magic casters in the East.”

Although kindly meant, Lord Sebastian's words cut Ezra's heart like blades. He knew mages were second-rate magic users who could never compete with experienced Gunners.

"Not every dream becomes a reality. But we must never stop living," Lord Sebastian uttered as an afterthought, but Ezra wasn't looking for consolation.

Ezra realized that arguing with his father was pointless and watched silently as he walked out of the room without another word.

After Lord Sebastian had left, Ezra got up from his bed and approached the silver-rimmed mirror beside his bookshelf. He raised his arms to look at his crippled hands, and immediately, a scowl formed on his face.

“I am going to fix my hands no matter what it takes. This is not my destiny,” Ezra grumbled through clenched teeth. “I will become an Ace Gunner and prove them all wrong!”

Ezra was still staring at his hands when suddenly he felt something moving under his skin. To his great horror, an eye popped open on the back of his right hand and stared directly into his face.

“What the—”

[Legendary Cursed Eye Awakened!]

[Gunsmithing Talent Unlocked!]

[Gunsmithing Level: F!]