(Caption) Necromancer Witch

He stood at the adventurers' guild counter, clutching the last of his gold coins. He was tired of suffering defeat in battle due to his lack of magical abilities and had finally decided to change his class. However, the cost of choosing a specific class was exorbitant—far beyond what he could afford. His only option was random reassignment.

The guild staff warned him that randomness meant anything could happen, including a change in gender. He frowned but still nodded. He had to master magic; otherwise, if he encountered enemies immune to physical attacks again, he would be utterly helpless.

The guild staff motioned for him to step onto the class-changing magic circle and handed him a crystal that shimmered with a purple glow. The light quickly expanded, enveloping his entire body. A strange force seemed to pull at him—he felt his bones subtly contract, his muscles reshaping, and his body temperature becoming slightly cooler. It wasn't painful, but the sensation of complete transformation was deeply unsettling.

He looked down. His armor had vanished, replaced by a black dress with a gently swaying skirt, adorned with silver buckles and intricate lace. He froze, raising a hand to touch his face—his fingertips brushed against soft hair and smooth skin. His hands were slender, his arms longer yet more delicate than before. His heart pounded as he abruptly lowered his gaze, finding his legs now long and fair.

And at his feet were a pair of black boots, their surface adorned with intricate laces and embellishments. The heels were significantly higher than those of his old battle boots, making every step feel unfamiliar due to the shift in height.

The guild staff cleared their throat and gestured toward the wall where the magical class descriptions were displayed. "Congratulations, you are now a Necromancer Witch."

He—or rather, she—stared blankly at the words. "Necromancer Witch"—a class skilled in controlling the undead, wielding curses and dark magic, and possessing an innate affinity for shadowy forces.

She took a deep breath, feeling the unfamiliar yet powerful magic coursing through her veins. Clenching her fist lightly, she realized that she had never possessed such power before—but now, it was undeniably hers.

The guild staff handed her a mirror. She took it and looked at her reflection—a girl with long silver hair, pink eyes, and an oversized witch's hat adorned with a tiny skull decoration. Her elaborate black outfit exuded an eerie elegance, and her boots gleamed faintly in the mirror's reflection.

She inhaled softly, lowering the mirror before glancing down at her boots again, shifting her toes against the floor to adjust to the sensation. Though the transformation unsettled her, at least she had finally gained a magical class.

After a brief silence, she whispered to herself, "...This isn't so bad." Adjusting her witch's hat, she took her first step forward as a Necromancer Witch.