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Riyuta was just your average sixteen-year-old teenager. He did decently in school, spent his free time watching anime, and loved reading manga. A normal life, by all accounts.
"Hey, Riyuta! Wait up!" a voice called out behind him.
One of his close friends caught up, panting slightly. "Man, I finally watched *The Seven Deadly Sins*. Kinda hype!"
Riyuta raised an eyebrow. He wasn't particularly interested—he already knew the anime's... reputation among long-time fans. But his friend was new to the anime scene, so Riyuta humored him. As they walked, the conversation shifted from hype moments to critiques, gradually becoming more animated.
They were just about to cross the street near their school when—
**Bang! Bang! Bang!**
Gunshots echoed in the air. Riyuta barely had time to react before two bullets tore into his side.
There was no scream. Just blood. Warm and sudden.
His friend stared in horror, eyes wide as Riyuta staggered, collapsing to his knees. With a trembling breath, Riyuta looked up, pain already numbing.
"Bro… please… delete my search history."
And then—nothing.
…..
"…God, that was such a dumb way to die," Riyuta muttered, floating in the void. "No final battle, no sacrifice, just—*bam*. Done. Not even a truck."
Ha! What do we have here? a deep, amused voice echoed around him. "A bland soul… or so it seemed. You've piqued my interest."
Riyuta spun in place, or at least, *thought* he did. He didn't really have a body anymore.
"Wha—? Who said that?! And excuse you, I think my soul's pretty damn bright, thank you!"
A booming laugh followed. "You've got guts, kid. I like that. Since you gave me a good laugh, I'll let you spin the Wheel of Reincarnation. Think of it as… a divine lottery."
"Wheel of what now?"
Without further warning, four glowing wheels appeared before him, labeled:
* **World**
* **Appearance**
* **Power**
* **Potential**
Despite lacking hands, Riyuta felt a strange pull—and one by one, the wheels began to spin.
**Click—click—click—CLACK.**
* **World:** *DanMachi*
* **Appearance:** *Lancelot (4Koa Edition)*
* **Power:** *Lancelot (again)*
* **Potential:** *Solomon*
Even the voice seemed impressed. "Well, well. You lucked out, kid. A chivalrous knight with ancient magic… not bad at all."
With those parting words, the void faded.
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In a peaceful, rural village surrounded by thick trees and winding rivers, a boy no older than sixteen woke up gasping.
He looked around frantically. This… wasn't Japan. Wooden buildings, cobbled paths, distant mountains—it felt medieval.
And then it hit him.
**DanMachi.**
He was inside the world of *DanMachi*.
His memories were hazy. He had never watched much of the show—just bits and pieces. But his new memories filled the gaps.
His name? **Lancelot Pendragon.**
The villagers were kind and helpful, offering him supplies and directions. He learned of Orario, the great labyrinth city where adventurers gathered, where gods mingled with mortals.
Wearing a sleek, high-collared black tunic trimmed with silver, matching trousers, and knee-high leather boots, he looked every bit the wandering knight. Over his tunic, a silver-gray mantle hung from his shoulders, fastened with a rose-shaped clasp.
With calm, confident steps, he began his journey.
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### **Three Weeks Later
Lancelot's trip was relatively peaceful—at least by fantasy standards. He encountered a few monsters along the road—wolves, goblins, even a stray ogre. None of them survived the encounter.
As he approached the massive gates of Orario, he joined the line of travelers and merchants. When his turn came, a guard raised his hand.
"Halt. State your business in Orario."
"I seek to become an adventurer," Lancelot answered plainly.
The guard gave him a once-over. "Alright, go ahead, young man."
Inside, the city was alive with energy. Stalls selling potions, armor, trinkets; adventurers boasting of dungeon dives and monster kills. Lancelot wandered through it all, absorbing the atmosphere.
Eventually, he arrived at the base of Babel—the massive white tower that covered the entrance to the Dungeon.
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There was no hesitation as he stepped inside. He was sure of it—this was going to be the beginning of his great adventure. Walking onto the first floor of the dungeon, Lancelot eventually stumbled upon his first monster: a goblin. Small creatures, but deadly in groups.
He could feel them swarming, creeping in from every corner.
Without a word, Lancelot calmly extended his hand. In a shimmer of violet light, his blade materialized—elegant, razor-sharp, and humming with magic. He didn't need theatrics. A flick of his wrist, and swords formed from his magic energy hovered briefly before launching outward like guided spears. Each found its mark, piercing through goblin skulls with surgical precision.
The last one fell, its body thudding against the cold stone floor.
Lancelot lowered his hand. "Too slow."
But before he could move forward, the ground trembled under heavy footsteps. From the shadows emerged a hulking hobgoblin—twice his size, armed with a crude axe and thick hide. It let out a roar and charged.
Lancelot didn't flinch.
He disappeared in a blur of motion—reappearing behind the beast mid-swing. His sword was already in motion, sheathed for a brief moment before a violet arc split the air.
*Shing!*
The hobgoblin froze, then collapsed, a clean slash running across its chest. Lancelot exhaled slowly, resting his hand on the hilt of his blade.
"This dungeon better have more than oversized vermin," he muttered, eyes already scanning deeper into the maze. He could feel something stronger ahead—something worth his time.
And he welcomed it.
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