Dante Moretti had spent more than two decades carving his name into the underworld. At forty-three, he was a brilliant Capo—respected, feared, and trusted with millions. Until the night he wasn’t. A setup. A betrayal. A missing fortune that someone carefully pinned on him. His own men dragged him to the docks like a dog, guns pressed to the back of his skull. For the first time in his life, Dante felt something colder than steel—regret. If I could do it again… I’d do it right. Bleeding out on the concrete, chest collapsing, vision fading, he prayed—quietly, desperately—for a second chance. Not to reclaim power, but to live a life he could control from the beginning. Then the world shifted. A blinding light tore through the darkness. From it stepped a woman—radiant, impossible, divine. She cupped his face gently, whispered in a language older than time, and kissed him. The world shattered. Blackness. Silence. Rebirth. When Dante opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was a wooden ceiling. His limbs were tiny. His voice was no more than a whimper. Villagers gathered around him—poorly dressed, speaking an ancient tongue. Outside, he heard clangs of steel, shouts, and the wild disorder of a town ruled not by law, but by gangs. A world of swords. Of violence. Of survival. And he remembered everything. He was Dante Moretti—reborn as a baby, but with the mind of a hardened Capo. Then, on the night he turned one month old, something else happened. A faint chime echoed in his mind. —[Craftsmith System Activated]— A translucent blue panel appeared before his infant eyes, filled with symbols and text only he could see. [Welcome, Reborn Soul] [Permission granted: Craft anything you can imagine.] [Weapons, tools, traps, gear, enhancements—limited only by materials and creativity.] [Your second life begins now.] Dante’s tiny hands trembled. A system. A power unlike anything from his previous world. Not magic. Not illusion. A pure, absolute crafting ability. If he could imagine it, he could create it. Knives. Swords. Traps. Smoke bombs. Armor. Even things that didn’t exist in this medieval world. And as he grew… so would the system. This time, he wouldn’t climb someone else’s empire. He would build his own—literally. Piece by piece. Blade by blade. Strategy by strategy. A second life. A second chance. A system that gave him limitless potential. And a violent town waiting for a king.

I used to stand at the top.Vice Captain of the elite Drake Unit—the pride of the kingdom. I had the skill, the reputation, and the loyalty of every soldier beneath me.I was one step away from becoming Captain.Until the general’s spoiled son wanted the title…And the general handed it to him like a birthday gift.One meeting, and my entire career was stolen away.A humiliating demotion to the worst squad ever assembled:The Raven Unit.A squad so infamous they’ve turned battlefield failure into an art form.Four girls.Four disasters: • Lina — the sleeper warrior who dozes off during missions. • Mira — the seductive fighter who thinks flirting is a combat technique. • Kora — strong as a bear, with a sweet addiction. • Sylvi — a magic specialist who keeps to herself and shares nothing.Gorgeous, chaotic, undisciplined. My new mission. Not die.But after spending time with them, I notice something strange: They were nothing like the rumors spread. With strengths that would rival captains, a mystery hides behind this unit.