Nick woke up approximately three hours after falling asleep in the armchair, hearing unfamiliar voices.
Cracking one eye open, he caught a glimpse of the glow from the TV screen, tuned to a channel broadcasting an ad featuring a pair of plumbers.
Rubbing his eye and pushing aside a few stray locks of hair that obstructed his already blurry vision, he grumbled in a groggy voice, "Who turned this thing on...?"
Then, suddenly, Nick heard a strangely familiar noise—something fragile shattering on impact, perhaps a vase or a plate.
He groaned at the sound, his headache intensifying in direct proportion to his dwindling patience. Kicking off the blanket covering him, he rose from the armchair with steps full of obvious irritation.
Midway, he stopped, his gaze sharpening as he looked down at the floor, though his expression remained annoyed.
It didn't escape Nick's notice that a remote control lay on the living room carpet—one that hadn't been there before. The remote was missing one of its buttons, which was nearly popping out of its casing, and bore a few small scratches.
He bent forward, stretching his arm to pick it up. Pointing it at the TV, he pressed the red button with his finger.
The screen turned black the instant the two plumbers in the commercial were reciting their company's phone number, the recording vanishing as the television darkened.
With an almost mechanical turn of his neck, Nick quickly noticed that the sofa was unusually messy and disheveled.
This puzzled him, stirring his curiosity. He was determined to figure out what was going on, especially since the sofa had been in pristine condition not long ago.
A flower vase lay shattered in pieces on the kitchen floor. The wilted flowers were scattered among the shards of what had once been an intact vase, along with dirt and water.
Then, Nick saw the culprit behind the mess.
It was a feline with a slender face and a lean body, its short fur disheveled, with thin beige and brown strands. The cat let out a defiant meow upon noticing Nick but didn't retreat an inch.
Nick blinked, less impressed by the fact that an animal was the cause of the chaos and more by the confirmation of his theory that said animal was, indeed, a cat.
Nick stared at the cat, and the cat stared back.
"You had an owner before—or maybe you still have one waiting for you," Nick said, his voice low and cautious. "Your fur is well-groomed and neatly trimmed. Your claws are cut to an appropriate length but starting to grow out."
Nick remained still, watching the cat. He was still irritated, no doubt, but he had no intention of taking his anger out on some random animal.
Looking into the cat's eyes, Nick noticed their sunken appearance. Paying closer attention, he saw its labored breathing.
Nick walked to the kitchen with careful but hurried steps. He grabbed a bowl, filled it with water, then returned and slowly placed it in front of the cat.
"Drink." And the cat didn't hesitate.
It approached the bowl and began drinking eagerly.
"Slow down," Nick warned.
The cat meowed, its tone sounding irritated, but it seemed to take the advice.
The corners of Nick's lips curled into a small smile. He stood still, keeping a comfortable distance.
Once the cat had drunk half the water, it seemed satisfied. Nick picked up the bowl and placed it near the kitchen counter.
Turning back, he noticed the cat remained still, quietly watching him.
Then, the cat moved, striding over to the sofa and leaping up. It walked as if in a parade before curling up at one end, resting its head on a cushion.
Nick huffed. "Living the good life, huh?"
Shaking his head, he decided to ignore the cat. He searched the house for a broom, a dustpan, and a plastic bag. Finding them in a closet, he immediately began cleaning up the mess the cat had made.
He scooped up the broken vase pieces and wilted flowers with the dustpan, placing them in the bag. After tying it securely, he opened the front door and stepped outside, bag in hand.
As the door swung open, sunlight greeted him. The air felt cleaner—something he was already used to. The sky was the same shade of blue he remembered, though perhaps more vivid than before.
Nick took a deep breath before tossing the trash bag into the bin in the front yard and heading back inside.
He paused mid-step, noticing a few people walking along the sidewalk. Their clothes looked so different from what he was accustomed to, their hairstyles like a living snapshot of an era he had only seen in photos.
Nick had been born in the mid-90s in his previous life. The turn of the century hadn't concerned him much, as he'd been just a child back then. He had lived normally, without many complications.
In this incarnation, however, he seemed to be in some year in the 1980s. It was strange to think that, in his past life, his father had been attending university around this same time—still with no plans to start a family.
Nick sighed, deciding to push those thoughts aside.
"The past is in the past. The present is happening now. The future? I don't know what it holds."
His gaze met the cat's again, and he sighed, shaking his head.
"This clever cat's second home, I bet. Maybe its owner will be confused when it shows up fat after a holiday." Nick let out a dry chuckle. With a flick of his hand, his system's interface appeared in his field of vision.
Settling comfortably into the armchair, he began analyzing the system he had been granted.
It was nothing like what he would have imagined—he could admit that.
The fact that the first thing integrated into his brain had been labeled as "complete" implied one thing:
"I guess I got really lucky receiving something 'complete' right off the bat." His voice was low.
"Could've just as easily gotten the second or ninth volume of something—whatever that something might be." He mused, concentrating.
A new section had appeared on the "home screen":
|| Skills
|| Works
He navigated to the "Works" section and saw:
|| Slam Dunk - Type: Manga - Acquisition: Complete
Nick smirked at the word "acquisition." His theory seemed correct.
"Still not sure what the requirement is for me to receive something." He muttered, curious.
Then he shrugged. "I'll ignore it for now. I've got time to kill. A whole life to live."
Glancing out the window, he allowed himself a small smile.
"Today's gonna be a great day."
"And if it's not, I can always try again tomorrow."