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"Nhefil would be his name and he will be destined for great things. My son."

He dreamt of the time when his father carried him for the first time and his mother's sweet smile. Though it all was discarded to the back of his mind as a memory from his infancy shouldn't even be remembered.

Disgusted with his reminiscing of the past that would never again happen, he popped his head out of the trash bin. Seeing the cost was clear he walked slowly careful not to strain his breathing because of the broken rib. A hundred and more twist and turns while stopping and hiding from time to time at any footsteps he heard. Finally arriving at his destination he surveyed his surroundings for anyone following but try as he may to be cautious.

Nhefil's destination was his base, a fancy word for a bigger rectangular garbage box. He got in and moved a couple of trash and found a hole that connects to the other dumpster besides it. A cleaner one because he locked it from the inside and needed to be pried to get it open. The only source of light and ventilation are the holes present. A plank of wood was used as an unreliable door.

While eating a mouldy bread he stowed a couple days ago, he went through his stash. His stash was nothing more than 3 books but to him it was his treasure. They were the only things he had at that time when he was abandoned here.

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At his old household, Nhefil knew he was unwanted due to his lack of talent and inability to use magic. It became worse when his father died. Amidst all the things they would do and say, he found solice in books. Though his selection was limited to a handful of books and didn't mean he was a genius. And even in depression and the trauma he received, he still wants to learn magic but try all he may, he never accomplished anything his family approved of.

But he did accomplish something. His inner mana manipulaton.

He started when he was four, and found out why he always was treated with disdain. While others at manipulate their mana inside and force it to be emited, he could do nothing of that sort so all he could do was manipulate it inside him. At that age he knew nothing but keep moving it around inside him until it he could easily manipulate it without difficultty. Him having a small amount of mana compared to his peers actually helped him get good at it. Due to having small amount of mana, it was easier to move it around.

Four years have passed and all that was left from his time in that godforsaken house was these three books. Strengthening the body with mana for idiots, The structure of the human body for morons and lastly an empty book devoid of any letters. For a long time he thought of something that he could do with the mana inside of him. The two books would be his guide and the third where he would write his findings.

Finishing his mouldy bread, he would start his experiment. He had long ago read both of the books and now he would start his project that would either result on death by imploding or him being stronger. His problem was how he couldn't emit magic outside of his body so he would instead use magic inside of it. The book on body strengthening was about making mana coat your skin and making it durable and stronger but he wasn't even capable of that too because that entails he would make a layer of mana outside his skin so now in insanity he would do what he thought of a long time ago. He would infuse his skin cells with mana and strengthen it.

Now in a oversized trash can with memories of another life, he will thrive.