The moment the woman—his mother—left to fetch water, Yuki collapsed back into the futon, one hand clutching at his temple. His head still throbbed, but the pain wasn't ordinary. It was like something had been stitched into his skull, every new thread tugging against the old fabric of his life.
And then it happened.
The memories surged forward again. At first, blurry—like watching old film reels—but gradually sharpening until they felt real enough to touch.
They weren't his memories. They belonged to someone else. The boy called Yukiharu Akio.
---
The truth sank in slowly: this wasn't Earth. This wasn't his world. Everything was different—the languages, the customs, the names, even the skies that sometimes burned with two suns instead of one.
"This… this really is an isekai…" he muttered under his breath, half laughing, half terrified.
The first thing that stood out in Yuki's borrowed memories was the land itself. His new home was within an enclosed city belonging to the Akio Clan, isolated and tucked away from the bustling centers of civilization. The clan didn't bend the knee to any kingdom, not because of arrogance but because they didn't have to. Their strength gave them that right.
Outside the clan's walls, the world spread vast and divided into four massive kingdoms:
The Yamauchi Kingdom — The crown jewel of the continent, a land so large it could've been mistaken for an entire continent back on Earth. Its influence stretched far, and its glory rested on its institutions. Chief among them was the famed Meister Academy, an academy that wasn't just a school but the heartbeat of Yamauchi's supremacy. Warriors, mages, artisans, scholars—Meister forged them all. If the kingdom was the body, the academy was its mind.
The Rokkaku Kingdom — The southern giant. If Yamauchi was famed for its strength and institutions, Rokkaku was famed for its flavors. From delicate dishes to monster meat prepared with spices that burned and healed at once, its cuisine was unmatched. Yuki could almost taste the roasted hydra tails and honeyed phoenix eggs from the memories. And more than that, Rokkaku held the Duel Academy, the second-most respected academy in the land. If Meister produced kings, Duel produced warriors.
The Ando Kingdom — To the east, known for its endless coasts and daring sailors. Its people were hardy, stubborn, always gazing at horizons as if daring the world to hold them back.
The Maeda Kingdom — To the west, lush and fertile, often considered the breadbasket of the realm. But to Yuki's inherited knowledge, Maeda was also the weakest, often caught in the tug-of-war between its neighbors.
Each kingdom was massive, the size of whole countries from his old life. To travel between them wasn't a matter of hours—it was a matter of weeks, sometimes months.
But above them all stood the Akio Clan.
---
"Wait, so my family… my clan… isn't even under a kingdom?" Yuki muttered aloud as the pieces clicked together.
The memories were clear. The Akio, sometimes called the Asura Clan in whispers, had power and bloodlines so extraordinary they rivaled entire nations. They weren't rulers of kingdoms, but their existence was enough to threaten rulers. Their warriors could sway the outcome of wars, their interference enough to halt conquests mid-stride.
Naturally, the kingdoms hated them for it. But they also feared them too much to act rashly.
Damn… so I got reincarnated into a cheat-bloodline clan? I'm not complaining.
He chuckled, then stopped abruptly. His chest still ached faintly from earlier, and laughing made it worse.
---
As he was piecing everything together, the voice came back.
> [Would Host like to check body conditions?]
Yuki froze, every nerve firing at once. He'd been expecting it. Hoping for it. Praying for it, even. And now it was here.
He sat up straighter, heart hammering in his chest.
"Who… who are you?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. The tone was too flat, too mechanical. He'd read enough manga, watched enough anime, and scrolled through enough forums to recognize it instantly.
A system.
The response came smoothly, almost smugly:
> [I am the Host's system. The Perfect Bloodline System.]
Yuki blinked. "…The what now?"
> [The Perfect Bloodline System.]
He covered his face with his hands. "Oh, come on. Out of all the names… That's the cringiest title I've ever heard."
The voice didn't respond. Maybe it didn't understand sarcasm. Or maybe it was ignoring him.
Still, his heart was racing. This was it. His cheat. His golden finger. His ticket to survival in this world. The Perfect Bloodline System.
Images flashed again. Strength. Wars. Bloodlines twisted with power. The Akio clan wasn't just special—they were terrifying. If the system was tied to that…
"Okay, okay… Calm down, Williams—no, Yuki now. Calm down," he whispered to himself. His thoughts swirled, too many and too heavy. The weight of two lives pressed down on him, and his head throbbed harder.
> [Would Host like to begin the first status inspection?]
"Yes, yes, obviously—" he started, but the dizziness doubled, the words slurring in his mouth. His body wasn't ready for this much strain. The sudden overload of memories, the knowledge of kingdoms and clans, the sheer idea that he had a system—it was too much.
The room spun. His vision blurred.
"Dammit… I waited my whole life for this… and I faint before the tutorial…" he muttered weakly.
And then darkness claimed him again.