World Hopping With Gacha

Weird. The system didn't try to blind me this time.

As I stepped through the glowing portal, the first thing that hit me was the fresh air. Not the clinical, sterilized air of the White Room, but the earthy scent of grass and faint whiffs of flowers.

"Where… am I?" I muttered, glancing around.

I was standing in what looked like a park. Trees lined the edges of a neatly trimmed lawn, and a few scattered benches dotted the area. A playground stood in the distance, empty save for a lone swing swaying gently in the breeze.

"This is... nice," I said, taking it all in.

---

Now that I had arrived, it was time to check my identity.

"Okay, system," I said, summoning the interface. "Let's see what you gave me."

A transparent screen popped up in front of me, displaying my details:

[ID Interface]

Name: Arthur Wayne

Age: 11

Date of Birth: December 25, 1979

Status: Orphan

"Orphan, huh?" I frowned. "Not ideal, but it's workable."

The date of birth also confirmed the era—1990s. That meant I was about to start Hogwarts Year 1 alongside Harry Potter and the gang.

"Good. I've got time before the crazy shit starts happening."

---

Now, onto the next challenge: survival.

Money, food, shelter… where do I even start?

I considered my options. The CS Weapon Armory had plenty of guns, and while selling them was illegal as hell, it was also the fastest way to make cash.

"Alright, let's crunch some numbers," I said, pulling out my new smartphone.

---

The device powered on with a faint chime. The interface was sleek and modern—surprisingly advanced for the 1990's looking phone, I guess it changes appearances to blend in with the era.

[Setup]I Clicked. A holographic menu popped up.

Name: Arthur Wayne

Password: *********

"Done," I said.

The moment I finished setup, familiar apps appeared on the home screen: Google, YouTube, Maps, and more.

"Wait a second," I muttered, staring at the icons. "Why does this thing have Google? Isn't this 1990's ?"

A notification appeared:

[For user convenience, the phone has been set up with tools that match the user's needs. Functions are integrated with Nexus compatibility.]

"Nice," I grinned. "This thing is way more advanced than I thought."

---

Time to figure out how much I could sell a Glock for.

I opened Google and searched: "How much does a Glock cost?"

The results were immediate.

Used Glock: $300-$350

Factory New Glock: $500-$600

I did some quick mental math.

If the CS Armory sells a Glock for $100, I can flip it for $300. That's $200 profit per sale.

Now I just needed a buyer.

---

The plan slowly started forming in my head.

1. Step One: Start small. Find a local gang willing to buy guns. Slowly climb the ranks, building connections until I hit the big leagues—mafia bosses or black-market kingpins.

2. Step Two: Use the profits to fund my growth. Invest in better weapons, resources, and maybe even buy some magical knowledge from the Nexus.

3. Step Three: Get out before things got messy. No way was I staying in the underworld longer than necessary.

But before any of that could happen, I needed seed money. But before all that I needed a place to stay.

---

Then an idea struck me:

Why not just crash at an orphanage?

I wouldn't have to worry about rent, food, or basic necessities. It'd be temporary, of course, but it'd buy me time to get my operation off the ground.

"Alright," I said, standing up. "First things first—find an orphanage."

---

I wandered out of the park, taking in the sights. The streets were busy but not overwhelmingly so. People walked briskly, chatting, laughing, or just minding their business.

A newspaper stand caught my eye. I approached it, scanning the headlines.

The Times: "Local Authorities Warn of Rising Crime in London."

"Yep, definitely in London," I muttered.

---

A quick search on my smartphone revealed several orphanages nearby.

I decided to head to the closest one: St. Edmund's Home for Children.

---

The orphanage was a large, imposing building with a worn brick façade. Kids ran around the yard, playing games while a stern-looking woman supervised.

Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the gate.

"Can I help you, young man?" the woman asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

"I'm… looking for a place to stay," I said, putting on my best "lost kid" look.

Her expression softened. "Are you alone?"

I nodded. "My parents… they're gone."

She sighed, opening the gate. "Come on in. Let's get you settled."

---

The inside of the orphanage was modest but clean. The woman—who introduced herself as Mrs. Carter—showed me to a small room with a single bed, a desk, and a closet.

"You'll share the room with another boy," she said. "Be respectful, and we won't have any problems."

"Thank you," I said earnestly.

---

After the Authorities questioned what happened to my parents I said they died and left me alone, they left me at the Orphanage.

Over the next few days, I blended into the orphanage routine. I kept my head down, avoiding trouble while quietly scouting for opportunities.

The kids were surprisingly decent—no bullies or thugs. Most of them just wanted to survive, like me.

But I couldn't stay forever.

---

Using my smartphone, I searched for local gang activity. It didn't take long to find a group operating near the docks.

I decided to test the waters with a single Glock. If things went south, I could always use my [World Hopper] ability to escape.

Late one evening, I snuck out of the orphanage and made my way to the docks.

The gang's hideout was exactly what I expected—dimly lit, smoky, and filled with shady-looking people.

"Hey, kid," one of them growled. "What are you doing here?"

"I've got something you might want," I said, pulling out the Glock from my inventory.

Their eyes widened.

"This real?" one of them asked, examining the weapon.

"100%," I said confidently. "600 pounds, and it's yours."

They exchanged glances before handing over a wad of cash.

"Pleasure doing business," I said, pocketing the money.

As I walked away, a smirk crept onto my face.

Step one: complete.

---Note

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