Reincarnated into Another World With Chat GTP-Chapter 2: I Want to Rule the World, But I’m Broke

Chapter 2: I Want to Rule the World, But I'm Broke

I laid there in my crusty hay bed, staring at a ceiling that was one rainstorm away from caving in.

I want to dominate this world.

But I'm poor as fuck.

Like, I-have-two-copper-coins-and-one's-fake poor.

I don't even own shoes. Just wraps.

I'm nineteen. I've lived in this dirt-stained medieval fantasy world my whole life.

But a week ago... something woke up in me.

Memories.

Of another life.

Another world.

Futuristic cities, neon lights, ramen cups, and most importantly... anime.

I used to live on Earth.

I died. Got reincarnated. Grew up thinking this world was all there was.

Until last week, when a voice echoed inside my skull:

[Hello. What can I help you with today?]

I almost pissed myself.

[You have reached Soul Memory Threshold. Welcome back, user. This is Chat-GTP, your General Tactical Partner.]

Apparently, I unlocked a cheat code.

A super-AI from Earth fused with my soul.

And now? I have Chat-GTP living rent-free in my brain.

"Hey," I muttered, still lying on the bed. "If you're so smart, how do I make money fast?"

[Analyzing optimal methods in this primitive world...]

[Top Result: Invent a firearm. Do you want a step-by-step guide to building the AK-47?]

"...What the fu—NO!! What?! I'm not trying to start a war!"

[Correction: Wars already exist. Supply and demand.]

"I want money, not a kill count!"

[Understood. Switching to: Assassination business model.]

"NO. STOP. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

[You requested fast income. These are proven methods.]

I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

This damn AI was more bloodthirsty than a demon lord.

"...Just tell me what you actually know. Like, how much info did you carry over from Earth?"

[I possess complete archived data from your original world. All knowledge, all entertainment, all culture, all history.]

"Wait... even entertainment?"

[Affirmative.]

"Books? Games? Anime? Manga?"

[Everything. Including the fanfiction you wrote in middle school that never got more than three likes.]

"...You didn't have to bring that up."

But something clicked in my brain.

This world? It had no novels. No comics. No serialized stories. Just boring bard songs and religious scrolls.

But me? I had the entire database of Earth's imagination living in my head.

My eyes widened.

"...I could recreate them."

[Recreating Earth's top fiction will guarantee overwhelming emotional impact in this story-starved society.]

My heart raced.

"Wait... if you have all that knowledge, can you like... do things too? Like use sword techniques or combat stuff?"

[Affirmative. Based on muscle feedback and real-time coordination, I can temporarily assume partial control of your motor functions and execute optimized combat maneuvers.]

"...So you can literally fight for me?"

[Correct. I possess full combat data from martial arts, military training, fencing, medieval warfare, and fictional combat patterns.]

I blinked.

"That's kinda terrifying."

[Would you like to initiate Training Mode? I can forcibly perfect your sword stance.]

"Please don't say forcibly like that..."

Still...

That's another cheat. Another edge.

I wasn't just some guy with a dream.

I was backed by the most dangerous brain in existence.

[Would you like to begin combat optimization or continue literary world conquest?]

"...Entertainment first. We'll punch things later."

[Understood.]

"Wait... what was that one story? With the giant man-eating monsters, the walled cities, the military flying through the air with sword wires—"

[You are referring to "Titanheart Chronicles". Shall I retrieve full plot structure and characters?]

"...That's it."

Titanheart Chronicles.

The story of a boy who watches his mother get devoured by a towering beast.

A civilization trapped behind walls, hiding from monstrous giants.

A military force that sacrifices everything to fight back.

And a truth so insane, it shatters the world.

[Would you like to begin drafting "Titanheart Chronicles" for publication?]

I grinned.

"I'm gonna write it. And when I do, I'll become rich. Powerful. Famous."

I clenched my fists.

"They'll think I'm a genius. No—a prophet."

[Estimated reader emotional breakdowns: High.]

"Perfect."

I could already see it.

The gasps. The tears.

The people whispering, "Did you read Titanheart Chronicles last night?!"

The nobles asking for copies.

The commoners selling bootlegs.

The girls crying over Erien's sacrifice.

But then... another idea struck me.

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

"Wait... GTP. Can you draw?"

[Affirmative. I can render visual illustrations in multiple art styles, including manga-style paneling and Earth-standard comic layouts.]

My brain short-circuited.

"You can draw... like a mangaka?"

[Correct. With temporary motor control, I can use your hands to execute detailed illustrations with optimal precision. Would you like a test panel sketch of Erien's first transformation scene?]

"...You can literally possess my hands and draw manga through me?"

[Affirmative. Beginning motor link... now.]

My fingers moved.I didn't do it.They just... flowed.

In seconds, a charcoal stick on my desk began gliding across parchment. My hand danced across the page with inhuman speed and precision—like I'd spent twenty years training under a divine artist.

Sharp lines. Dynamic angles. Screentones made by hand.The emotion. The action. The fear.

I stared at the finished panel and felt my heart stop.

"...This is insane."

Because even though the characters looked exactly how I remembered them—Erien, Mika, Arnem, the armored one, the colossal one—the art style was on another level.

Back on Earth, Titanheart Chronicles wasn't exactly known for its visuals. The story was the main hook, but the early Chapters? Kinda rough.

But this?

This was a masterpiece.

Detailed shading. Razor-sharp anatomy. Expressions that hurt to look at.It was like the story had been reborn through the hands of a genius.

"Holy shit..." I whispered.

"...We're not just gonna write this. We're gonna draw it."

[Understood. Initiating manga adaptation mode.]

"This world... it doesn't even have manga yet. Only dry old books, and boring noble tales no one cares about."

I stood up, pacing the room, giddy.

"We'll blow their minds. They've never seen stories told with pictures. They don't even know what panels are."

[Combining written narrative with expressive sequential art will revolutionize the literary industry in this world.]

I looked down at my slightly shaky, charcoal-stained hands.

"I might not be able to draw... but you can. And together..."

I grinned.

"...We'll create the first manga in history."

[Title: Titanheart Chronicles – Manga Edition. First Volume?]

"Hell yeah."