Clutching his sister's gold coins, Anthony felt warmth spread through his chest.

  The mere thought of that little female dragon's furious, hysterical reaction made him grin uncontrolbly.

  Oh, my foolish sister, let me teach you your first lesson about the cruelty of this world.

  Soaring through the skies, Anthony set his sights on his first destination—a nearby human town.

  Roughly five hundred miles away.

  By standard draconic tradition, when a dragon leaves its mother's ir—whether voluntarily or not—it must begin its independent life.

  Step one: Find a makeshift location to establish its own dragon's ir. Then ensve some dim-witted, easily controlled evil creatures like gnolls as minions. These creatures would gather food and treasure while the great dragon indulged in leisure, wreaked havoc, and slept soundly.

  Only formidable enemies or extraordinary treasures could lure a great dragon out of its ir. Otherwise, this cycle could st decades, even centuries, until its ever-growing body necessitated either relocation or ir expansion via commanded minions.

  But Anthony was no ordinary great dragon. He intended to do something earth-shattering.

  Namely—savoring the beauty of other races.

  As a former D&D enthusiast, he had spent his past life devouring fantasy novels—cssic Western tales, Eastern adaptations, and ter, countless web novels about D&D crossovers. Like many, he had dreamed of transmigration.

  But unlike those who fantasized about domination, his curiosity fixated on the anatomical differences between non-human races and humans.

  The slender, elegant elves. The crimson-skinned, enigmatic tieflings. The noble, divine aasimar. The cold yet emotionally complex dhampirs. Not to mention the hellish abyss-dwellers, sirens, and succubi—creatures straight out of men's wildest dreams.

  Having finally arrived in another world, how could he not indulge himself to the fullest? Otherwise, what was the point of crossing over?

  No hesitation—just action!

  Unfortunately, being reborn as a dragon meant enduring fifty long years of pent-up frustration. At least dragons didn’t get acne, or he’d have been covered in breakouts by now.

  During his years of swindling funds and scking off in Edinburgh, he hadn’t been entirely idle. He had genuinely researched magic.

  Just… not the respectable kind.

  Anthony [Male Juvenile Red Dragon](Appearance reference: The red dragons used as mounts by githyanki in Baldur’s Gate 3—definitely not the dopey kind from the beginning of Delicious in Dungeon.)

  Profession: Dreamer

  Level: 3

  Alignment: Chaotic Evil

  Abilities:

  Strength: 29

  Dexterity: 11

  Constitution: 19

  Intelligence: 16

  Wisdom: 15

  Charisma: 15 (+1)

  Senses: Blindsight, Keen Perception

  Languages: Draconic, Common, Elvish, Dwarvish, Abyssal

  Damage Reduction: 5/Magic (natural weapons count as magical for bypassing DR)

  Special Attacks:

  Fire Breath: 90-foot cone, 8d10 damage. 30-second cooldown between uses. Requires feeding to recharge after three breaths.

  Pleasure Spells:

  0st Level: Detect Pregnancy (detects pregnancy within 10 yards)

  1st Level:Contraception (self-expnatory)

  Changing Sexual Orientation (alters orientation within 10 yards, success affected by target’s resistance)

  2nd Level:Unclothe (on touch, removes armor/clothing. Success depends on caster’s Charisma; target resists with Will save)

  3rd Level:Phantasmal Bliss (failed Will save traps target in caster’s erotic illusion)

  Special: Human Transfiguration (transforms into male human at 1/10th weight, retains abilities)

  Spellcasting: Uses Intelligence like a wizard.

  Innate Abilities: Auto-casts 2nd-level or lower fire, chaos, and evil-domain spells. Uses Charisma like a warlock.

  General Feats:Whirlwind Tail Sweep，Cleave，Power Attack，Blindsight，Spell Penetration，Greater Spell Penetration

  Special Feats:Alluring Visage (+1 Charisma, +2 to Bluff, Diplomacy, and Leadership checks)

  Css Skills (Dreamer):Athletics, Acrobatics, Sleight of Hand, Disguise, Escape Artist, Diplomacy, Bluff, Performance, Sense Motive, Listen, Concentration, Knowledge (Arcana)

  Immunities: Fire, Paralysis, Sleep

  Weaknesses: Cold Iron Weapons, Cold Damage

  Extraordinary Talent: Penetrates 9 points of Damage Reduction

  Originally, Anthony had reached Level 3 during a nighttime hunt two years prior, using the system to learn the Greater Spell Penetration feat. Back then, he had been ready to bolt and pursue his grand ambitions—until a sudden piece of bad news forced him to stay an extra two years. It took every ounce of his mental effort to finally master Human Transfiguration.

  And honestly? It was all because of his two idiot brothers.

  Those morons had gone straight to a human vilge, demanding beautiful maidens as tribute, then extorting the vilgers for treasure. When they decided the haul wasn’t enough, they burned the entire pce to the ground—literally turning it into a sea of fire—and promptly attracted the attention of a Dragon Syer Squad.

  According to st year’s reports, one of the dragons had already become the squad’s spoils of war, while the other was still on the run, too desperate to even settle into a proper ir.

  When the three dragons back in Edinburgh heard the news over dinner, they were livid.

  "Getting hunted by humans? Pathetic. They’ve shamed the name of Red Dragons!" their dragon mother snarled.

  "Exactly! I’d have sughtered them all. ‘Dragon Syer Squad’? What a joke!" Serbia chimed in.

  "Yeah, yeah." That was Anthony, half-heartedly agreeing while stuffing his face with meat.

  As for avenging their brothers (or offspring)?

  Not a chance. Once a dragon left the nest, dying outside only proved they were too weak to survive in this brutal world.

  Such was the creed of the Five-Colored Dragons.

  Even Anthony’s search for his own ir had to be far from Edinburgh—because a dragon who left the nest was seen as a competitor. If their mother ever tracked him down, it wouldn’t be for a friendly visit.

  Being robbed would be the best-case scenario.

  Anthony wasn’t worried about digging a ir, though. He’d had a pn from the start: first, visit a human town to experience this different world’s culture. If he found a magic shop, he’d "borrow" a Bag of Holding to lighten his load. Surely, the owners would gdly trade their goods for their lives.

  But thanks to his brothers’ idiocy, he had to take a safer approach to avoid being hunted.

  Become human first. Then, when the time was right, rob the magic shop.

  Exposure didn’t matter—the face he’d use was just a disguise. No shopkeeper would suspect a dragon could be this cunning.

  Perfect pn.

  If this worked, his next stop would be elf territory—to "study" a few female elves’ physiology and explore how to build a happy, harmonious retionship between dragon and elf.

  Lost in his fantasies, a sudden icy gust at high altitude snapped him back to reality.

  Red Dragons hated the cold.

  He descended, even though it increased the risk. But unless he was deliberately ambushed, he wasn’t afraid of running into high-level adventurers.

  With 29 Strength and weighing over 2,500 pounds, a single dive attack would crush most mortals. And if things went south? He could always flee—toying with adventurers until they dropped.

  When he dropped to 100 meters above ground, the beasts below sensed danger. Panic spread—herbivores colpsed in terror, even the usual forest kings like wild boars and grizzly bears fled in fear of becoming his next meal.

  Watching the chaos, Anthony felt no guilt. Instead, pride surged through his bloodline.

  This was the might of the strongest among giant dragons—the Power of the Red Dragon.

  Everything in the world should bow before him. All treasure rightfully belonged to him!

  Just as he reveled in his dominance, a faint magic aura—reeking of treasure—caught his eye.

  Red Dragons were natural appraisers. Their ability to detect rare items was peerless, with margins of error rarely exceeding a single gold coin. With age, that gap could shrink to two copper coins.

  But Anthony’s talent was even sharper—he could see magic items and high-value treasures at a gnce. That was how he’d found The Book of Pink.

  (Did I just stumble upon loot? Guess my fifty years of solitude weren’t in vain!) Thrilled, Anthony dove toward the source, soon nding in a valley between hills.

  There stood a crumbling temple, its moss-covered stones barely holding together. The carvings and holy symbols had long faded—whether by vandalism or erosion, no traces remained.

  Clearly abandoned. Whether its deity still existed was questionable. Yet inside, a dominant treasure’s glow pulsed—brighter than The Book of Pink had ever been.

  Jackpot! Ecstatic, Anthony quickly realized the temple was too small for his true form.

  But nothing could stop the future-great Anthony! He transformed into a handsome, bck-haired, red-eyed naked man, then rummaged through his dropped items for the clothes he’d prepared.

  The downside of transfiguration? Everything dropped. Hence his desperate need for a Bag of Holding.

  He fastened The Book of Pink to his waist—his most valuable possession—then took a deep breath and roared so powerfully the trees trembled.

  "Anyone here?!"

  The shockwave rattled leaves. Even a deaf person would’ve felt the vibrations.

  After a moment of silence, satisfied there was no response, Anthony tossed his belongings inside the temple to prevent any passing beasts from snatching them. Then, with a snap of his fingers, a small fme flickered to life on his fingertip, casting dim light across the desote ruins.

  Though he had darkvision, this eerie, cold pce demanded caution.

  From the outside, the temple appeared modest, but inside, it was a world all its own. Strangely, the interior was immacute—no signs of animal habitation, not even a single leaf managed to drift past the entrance.

  Yet, there were no traces of human presence either.

  Was the deity once worshipped here still lingering? The only expnation was that divine power still protected this pce.

  But if that were true, where were the priests?

  This defied logic. Anthony frowned.

  The path soon led him to the temple’s statues—the source of the glowing treasure.

  Here, an unnatural darkness swallowed everything. Not even a sliver of light escaped, as if the shadows themselves were devouring it. Worse, Anthony felt his movements slowing, as though wading through thick mud.

  The treasure’s glow remained the only visible thing—an eerie, unique image carving that provided no illumination.

  The fme on his finger was useless. Even his darkvision had inexplicably failed. Annoyed, he spread his palm, conjuring a 20-centimeter fireball that roared to life. The heat made his clothes sizzle, but at st, it revealed what y ahead.

  Not one statue—three.

  A pantheon? Anthony stepped closer, and what he saw nearly made him double over ughing. A poetic impulse surged within him.

  The statues were bizarre—not humanoid, not beasts, not even demons. Instead, they were three grotesque toads, each in a peculiar pose.

  One covered its eyes with its webbed paws.Another cmped its paws over its ears.The st pressed them against its mouth.

  And above them, resting on the altar, was the source of the radiant glow—a pocket watch, small enough to be worn on a chain.

  "Hah! Brutal. Who’s the sadist behind this?" Anthony chuckled, greed overriding caution as he reached for the glittering watch.

  But just before his fingers could close around it, a horrifying realization struck.

  (Wait… I’m supposed to be the only transmigrator here. This world has no advanced technology—so who built this temple? Who crafted these statues?)

  His body moved faster than his mind. His fingertip brushed the watch—

  And in an instant, both Anthony and the pocket watch vanished, leaving only the three toads frozen in their absurd poses.