Alfred The Hunter

Born in a hospital bed. Died falling out of one. I came back as Alfred — heir to a noble house, two glowing parents, and a body that finally works. I don't want the destiny that comes with all that. I want to understand this world well enough to be free from it. No one uses magic quite right, so I'm figuring it out myself. Hunting and cooking are hobbies, but optimizing is the point. Bandits are fun, too. If you throw them high enough, they turn into a liquid. Or maybe that’s from hitting the ground. I’ll run more tests. I've reverse-engineered healing magic by cutting pieces off myself to watch them grow back, dual-wielded minotaurs, and made a lobster mac that could end wars. The plan was simple: get strong, get free, leave everyone else to it. The plan did not account for how many people would need my help, how many princes would need throwing off balconies, or how attached I'd get to the handful of strays I picked up along the way. I treat myself like a hammer and the world like it's full of nails. Turns out I really like a few of the nails. Second chances are wasted on the well-adjusted. — Description from novelcodex.org