Narrated by Gabriel
The cold of the stone wakes me before the sunlight does. My first sensation isn't pain or fear… it's disgust.The ground I'm lying on reeks of damp, garbage, and something I really, really hope is just old soup.
"…The hell…?" My voice sounds different, though my brain hasn't yet processed why.
My routine—predictable and boring for years—never included "wake up in the filthiest alley in the world."It was always the same: wake up, eat whatever trash passes for breakfast, go to school, work a few hours, come home, watch a show or read, sleep.The end. Pure monotony.
Nowhere in that plan did it say:"Open your eyes in a medieval alleyway that smells like piss and vomit."
I sit up suddenly, and, as if fate wants to put the cherry on top of the joke, I notice something important.
"…Where the hell are my shoes?" I complain aloud.
I look down. Barefoot. The ground is freezing and littered with tiny rocks.Fantastic. If this were a video game, my dignity bar would be flashing red.
"Great… probably got stolen by some vagrant," I mutter, patting my pockets. "And of course… no phone either. Perfect."
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my voice down. I've already yelled enough, and this alley amplifies sound like a stage.
When I get to my feet, something freezes my brain entirely: these aren't my hands.
"…No. No, no, no…"
They're smaller, paler, with none of my scars. And they're trembling.I don't tremble like this. Hell, even my way of trembling feels different.
It takes a moment to calm my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. My heart, which was ready to burst out of my throat, starts slowing down.
And then I notice: it's not just my hands. I'm shorter… way shorter. And out of the corner of my eye, I see strands of platinum blond hair.Natural blond. Each strand catching the light like it's under contract with an expensive shampoo brand.
I need to see my face. Urgently.
Scanning the alley, I spot a broken mirror propped in a corner—like a gift from the gods. I approach it carefully, more afraid of what I'm about to see than the glass shards.
"Alright… three… two… one…"
The person staring back at me isn't me.
It's a face so absurd it looks sculpted by a perfectionist god with too much free time: flawless, symmetrical features, long lashes, ice-blue eyes like the sky after rain. And the hair—dear god, the hair. Platinum blond, falling perfectly in soft strands.
It's… beautiful.So beautiful it's irritating.
"No wonder they threw out this mirror, it's broken." My laugh sounds more nervous than amused.
I used to have brown hair, brown eyes, a forgettable face. My only saving grace was my height—almost 1.90 meters. Now… I'd guess 1.70.And my voice—every word sounds refined, like I've been practicing public speaking for years. Ridiculous.
Alright, let's recap:
I'm in an alley that could pass for a crime scene.
I have a new body. An unrealistically handsome one.
I have no idea where I am.
"First… get out of here."
I head toward the mouth of the alley. Sunlight hits me straight in the face, forcing me to squint. My eyes feel more sensitive than before.
When I finally adjust… I freeze.
Cobblestone streets. Stone-and-wood houses. People dressed like they're on their way to a medieval fair. And towering above it all, a spire that climbs so high it vanishes into the clouds.
"…How tall is that damn thing?" I whisper, half in awe, half in dread.
I start walking. Every step hurts without shoes, but I'm not staying in that alley to starve.
And then things get… stranger. People are looking at me. Not in a casual way—no. They're looking like I'm the main act of a show.
"It's him…""Look, the Fallen Angel.""Impossible to mistake that face…""Thought he'd be in a tavern by now."
I stop. It's not me they know—it's this body.And from what I'm hearing, not for heroic reasons.
"They say he drank himself unconscious in the central plaza last month.""And that he hooked up with a noblewoman at her own party.""Shame… with that face, he could've been a hero."
I can't decide what's worse: being recognized for things I never did… or being remembered as a walking disaster.
I keep moving. I need answers.
I stop a man who looks like an off-duty guard."Excuse me, could you tell me where I can ask for information?"
He gives me a once-over and bursts out laughing."You mean the Guild? You that drunk you forgot its name and where it is, Gabriel?"
Gabriel. Okay. Name's the same. But not "me" exactly.
He points down a street, still chuckling."Follow that road to Love Plaza, then go straight and you'll reach the Guild. Don't tell me you also forgot where your family lives."
"…My family?"
"The Soma Familia—y'know, the booziest bunch in Orario." His tone shifts slightly more serious. "And if you want advice… don't cause another scandal this week. Maybe drink less. I don't know how you can keep being such a shameless drunk, forgetting your own family and the Guild 'cause of booze. You're young—still got time to turn it around. Cleaning up your rep in Orario's gonna be tough, but hey—good luck, Gabriel Drakensoul."
And he walks off without looking back.
Did I just get life advice from a total stranger about choices I never made? Apparently yes. Oh, and apparently my last name is now Drakensoul. Neat.
Soma Familia. Orario. The Guild. Medieval architecture. A tower so massive "enormous" doesn't cut it… The Tower of Babel.
As insane as it sounds… I think I'm in Danmachi.
And for the first time since waking up, a shiver runs down my spine. Because if this is real… so is everything that comes with it.
I keep walking, thoughts gnawing at my head. The plaza the guard mentioned soon comes into view: a massive fountain surrounded by statues of heroes I don't recognize. I go straight ahead, just like he said.
At the end of the street stands the Guild Hall: large, imposing, with double wooden doors that scream important stuff happens here.
I push one open and step inside. It looks exactly like I saw on my screen back home: tall windows, rows of counters, shelves lined with maps, bulletin boards crammed with quest notices. And behind the main counter…Her.
Light brown hair tied neatly back. Pointed half-elf ears. Thin glasses that give her that "I know too much and will remind you of it constantly" secretary vibe.I don't need anyone to tell me her name: Eina Tulle.
I take a deep breath. It's weird seeing someone you know from a show standing there in the flesh, looking at you without the faintest clue who you are.
I walk to the counter. She looks at me and frowns, like she just caught a bad smell."…Can I help you?" she asks, with that calm tone people use when they're already expecting trouble.
"Uh… yeah. I need… some guidance."
"Guidance." She repeats the word like she's tasting it. "For what, exactly?"
"I'm…" I pause. Can't say "new" if I apparently have a reputation here. "…Let's just say I want to know how to… restart my life as an adventurer."
Eina adjusts her glasses, eyeing me up and down."Gabriel… from the Soma Familia, correct?"
And there it is. That tone: "I know you, and I don't like what I know."
"I see you remember me," I reply with a half-smile.
"Hard to forget someone who's only been to the Guild once in two years—the day you registered…" Her eyes narrow. "And whose street reputation has nothing to do with dungeon work."
"Straight to the point, huh…"
"I prefer to be clear." She crosses her arms. "The Soma Familia isn't exactly known for discipline. And you… well, your record speaks for itself."
I smirk, though it stings. It's not my record. I'm not that guy."The thing about records, Eina, is that they can be rewritten."
She sighs."That only happens if the person is willing to change. And in your case…" Her look is almost clinical. "…you don't exactly seem motivated."
Ah, Eina… if you only knew this is literally my first day in this world.
"Let's just say I had a wake-up call, and I want to do something about it." I meet her gaze seriously. "But for that, I need to know where I'm starting from."
She hesitates, then finally grabs a ledger from behind the counter."Your level is still one," she says precisely. "No change since registration. Which means…"
"Never entered the Dungeon," I finish for her.
"Exactly." She nods. "And considering your… lifestyle, I'm surprised you want to start now."
"You know the good thing about hitting rock bottom?" I ask.
"Enlighten me."
"You can't go any lower." I grin.
For the first time, I think I see the slightest curve of her lips. Not sure if it's amusement or disbelief.
"Alright." She closes the ledger. "If you truly want to start over, first thing is making sure your Falna is updated. You'll need to see your god… Soma, in this case."
I swallow. The name doesn't inspire confidence. In the show, Soma's an absent god more interested in his wine than his children.
"And where's… the headquarters?" I ask, playing dumb.
She raises a brow."You don't remember where your own family lives?"
"Let's just say… no."
She exhales, like she's talking to a lost child."It's in the northwest district. Look for the biggest, darkest winery you can find. And if you'll take another piece of advice… don't drink anything they offer you."
"I'll keep that in mind." I raise my hand like I'm taking an oath.
I leave the Guild with clear directions and a goal: find Soma and update this Falna.As I walk, the stares keep coming. Some admiring, some mocking, and a few—surprisingly—envious.Me. Getting envy. The world's gone mad.
The Soma Familia's home is exactly how I imagined it—and remembered from the show: big, dark, quiet… with a wine smell so thick you could chew it.The main gate is wide open, though no one's guarding it.
Inside, the air is heavy. A few members glance at me, uninterested, like I'm not worth their time. Ouch.
I head upstairs, where he is—standing over something that, from the smell, is obviously wine. Strong wine. No surprise, considering it's made by the god of wine himself: Soma.
Soma's got long, messy black hair, a loose tunic with dirt stains, and a dull gaze… but that presence that tells you, without a doubt, he's a god.
"…Gabriel." His voice is low, slow, like speaking is a drain. "Here to update your status."
Not a question."Yes."
Without stopping his stirring, he gestures for me to come closer. He turns his back, grabs a sheet of paper and a small needle, pricking his finger. He motions for me to take off my shirt.A drop of his blood falls onto my back, sending a small shiver down my spine.
He doesn't speak. Not a word during the process.
"Skills…" he murmurs. "You have two new skills."
He looks up briefly, not with pride or surprise, just cold observation."Nothing else changed. Level one. All stats still at zero."
I swallow."What skills?"
Soma doesn't answer. Doesn't smile. Doesn't show emotion. He simply presses a sheet to my back, copies my status onto it, and after a few seconds, hands it to me. Then he goes right back to his wine.
I quickly put my shirt back on and read my Falna.
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Familia: Soma
Level: 1
Strength: I0Endurance: I0Dexterity: I0Agility: I0Magic: I0
Magic: —
Skills:
I Want to Become Just Like You – Activates automatically when killed by an enemy. Copies one skill, spell, or developmental ability from the enemy and makes it your own. Cannot copy from an opponent you've already copied before. However, you will still die. For each Falna level, you can store two copied skills, spells, and developmental abilities.
Returner's Clockwork Watch – Activates automatically upon death. Rewinds time 24 hours from the moment of death. All memories and stats are retained upon return. However, the higher your level, the greater the penalty—physical or mental. From the first use, the ability allows rewinding exactly two years.
Hey everyone! Hope you're doing well.
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Here's Chapter 2 of this story :)
Some of you might recognize Gabriel's skills. If not, they're from the manhwa SSS-Class Suicide Hunter, Kim Gong-Ja's abilities.
I reread that manhwa recently and thought, "Hey, what if I wrote an isekai fanfic where the protagonist had his skills?" That same day, I wrote Chapter 1.
I have to admit, this chapter was a struggle. I rewrote it so many times… too many. I actually finished it on the 4th of this month, didn't like it, deleted it, and repeated the process until now. Even then, I'm still not 100% satisfied, but it's miles better than my first draft.
Also, portraying a character like Eina is harder than I expected. She's not complex per se—it's just tricky to figure out the most likely thing she'd say. I can only imagine the headache when genuinely complex characters show up…
I didn't really know how to end the chapter, so I figured ending on the Falna update worked. Not a brilliant cliffhanger, but passable.
As always, I love reading feedback. As long as it's respectful, constructive criticism is welcome.
By the way, just a reminder—this fanfic is mine, but this is the translated and adapted English version from Spanish, so apologies if some parts read oddly.
Bye!
Started: 08/02/25Published: 08/10/25