The mist curled tighter, and the god's voice boomed again.
"As I said, I am giving you a chance. It would be a waste to simply let your soul vanish. Your memory, your intellect, your potential—it is too rare to discard."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming like molten gold.
"Tell me, Adrian. Are you interested in living in another world? A place where magic flows like air, where ancient beasts and fearsome monsters roam—"
Adrian raised a finger. "Don't forget the monster girls."
The god froze. "…What?"
"You said monsters, right? That includes monster girls. I've seen enough, uh, cultural material to know what's possible. Bunny girls, lamia girls, slime girls—" Adrian nodded seriously. "You can't just throw the word 'monster' and not expect my brain to make connections."
The god pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something in divine language that sounded suspiciously like swearing. Then he sighed.
"Of all the things you could say with that massive brain of yours—the brain that memorized entire libraries, the brain that could unravel equations mortals haven't even discovered yet… That is the dumbest thing you could possibly focus on."
Adrian shrugged. "Hey, you call it dumb, I call it motivational clarity."
The god's eye twitched.
The god swept his hand, and the mist shifted again. This time, Adrian saw rows of stone houses with red-tiled roofs, narrow cobblestone streets, and lanterns glowing faintly with magic instead of fire. Merchants shouted at wooden stalls, kids chased each other down the alleys, and in the distance, forests stretched wide and dark.
"This is the world I created," the god said. "Not swords and castles, but villages and towns where people live with modest comforts. A world where monsters and humans share the same land, separated only by fragile agreements and ancient wards. Balance is crumbling, and soon one side will overwhelm the other."
Adrian raised his hand like a student. "…With monster girls?"
The god's jaw tightened. "Yes. They exist. Why do you keep asking?"
Adrian smirked. "Just making sure this world has, you know, cultural depth."
The god exhaled sharply, like a teacher on his last shred of patience.
"As I was saying—this world needs someone like you. Your memory, your intellect, your adaptability. That brain of yours may be the only thing capable of keeping the fragile balance intact."
Adrian rubbed his chin, pretending to think deeply. "…O…kay?"
The god slammed his staff against the ground. "Do not give me that half-hearted reply. This is not something you can shrug off. This is destiny."
Adrian tilted his head. "Still sounds like a setup for free rent and monster girl neighbors."
The god's eye twitched so hard it looked painful.
The god's expression grew heavier, his voice dropping lower.
"There is one problem."
Adrian frowned. "Uh oh, here it comes."
"I cannot create another body for you," the god continued. "But… I can transfer your soul into one that already exists."
Adrian blinked. "…Like body-snatching? That's kinda sus, old man."
The god ignored him. "This child… his soul is foul. Corrupted. Rotten in ways I do not tolerate in my world. Selfish, cruel, disgusting—" he paused, then corrected himself, "no, disgusting is too kind a word. His existence is poison."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Bruh, that bad?"
The god nodded firmly. "Yes. I do not want a person like that to exist here. Fortunately, I have the power to erase his soul and replace it. He is still a child, unshaped by the world. With your memory, your intelligence, and your choices… you can make him into something entirely different."
Adrian leaned back, arms crossed. "So basically, you're giving me a rental body with a bad reputation, and it's my job to, what, clean up after him?"
The god's eyes glowed faintly. "The way you change him is up to you. Whether you become a hero, a tyrant, or something else entirely… that will be your path."
Adrian tapped his chin. "Huh. Free housing, free body, possible monster girl neighbors… sounds like a scam, but I'll take it."
The god clenched his staff tighter, muttering under his breath. "Why do I even bother…"
The god's face softened, the sternness fading into something almost fatherly.
"Well then, Adrian. Before you go, I shall give you a gift—something to match that big brain of yours."
Adrian blinked. "A gift? Like… monster girl radar?"
The god glared. "No. Something that will actually help you survive."
"Worth a shot." Adrian muttered, shrugging.
The god lifted his staff, and the mist around them began to shimmer with ripples of light, as if the entire space had turned into water. His voice carried a weight that pressed on Adrian's chest.
"This time, have some ambition. Do not waste this chance. You are still young, and there is more to life than drifting through it without purpose."
The ripples grew louder, like the sound of stones dropped into a lake. Adrian felt his body lighten, his vision blur.
"W-wait—hey, don't make this sound like a final exam! I wasn't ready to study—" His words slurred as his consciousness slipped, eyelids growing heavy.
The last thing he saw was the god's silhouette fading into waves of light.
"Live well… and this time, live with meaning."
Then everything went black.
"Adrian! Adrian!"
The voice pierced through the haze until Adrian's eyes shot open. A handsome boy with golden hair and piercing blue eyes hovered over him, shaking his shoulders. He looked no older than fifteen, yet there was a maturity in his gaze—steady, sharp, almost noble.
"Are you conscious? Speak to me!" the blonde demanded, his tone firm yet calm.
Adrian blinked rapidly, his brain firing on all cylinders. "Hold on—statistically speaking, the probability of waking up in a strange place with a stranger shouting your name is ninety-five percent correlated with either abduction, reincarnation, or a really bad hangover. Given the zero alcohol intake in my last memory, I'm eliminating option three."
The blonde's brows furrowed. "What… are you saying?"
Adrian pointed at him, dead serious. "You. How do you know my name? Did we meet before? Because scientifically speaking, memory transfer is possible in theory, but highly unlikely in this context unless—"
The boy cut him off, voice steady, almost disappointed. "That is your name. Adrian. Do not jest with me. This is no time for riddles."
Adrian froze. "…Wait, you're saying this body's name is Adrian? Bruh, so it's like a bad database overwrite."
The blonde leaned closer, his tone tightening with quiet authority. "Enough. I will ask plainly. Did you harm her again? Did you raise your hand against this helpless maid? Did you strike her with whips?"
Adrian turned his head and nearly choked. A maid cowered nearby, tears streaking her face, her wrists bruised. She flinched at his gaze like he was a predator.
Adrian raised both hands instantly, speaking fast. "W-wait, hold on. Let's apply logic here. Cause and effect. My hands—empty. My muscles—weak. No residual fatigue suggesting physical exertion. Statistically speaking, probability of me being the culprit right now? Zero percent."
The blonde's eyes narrowed. His voice carried both wisdom and warning. "Your tongue is clever, Adrian. But cleverness does not erase cruelty. Do not attempt to disguise sin with words."
Adrian gulped. "…Bruh. I really did inherit a scumbag save file."
Adrian quickly raised his hands.
"Hold up, let me explain before you decide to knight-slap me into next week!"
The blonde's piercing eyes locked on him, his tone calm yet commanding. "Then speak, Adrian. Choose your words carefully."
Adrian took a sharp breath. "Okay, here's the deal. When I said 'weapons,' I didn't mean I wanted to use them. I meant that if we eliminate any object that could be misused, then logically, the risk of me hurting her again drops close to zero. It's simple prevention. No tools, no problem. That's all I meant."
The blonde's jaw tightened, his voice firm but steady. "And yet, even in apology, your mind rushes first to cruelty. Do you not see? You speak of whips and pain as if they are common tongue. For someone who wishes to change, those words should not even leave your lips."
Adrian scratched the back of his neck, wincing. "Yeah… I kinda see how it came out wrong. What sounded smart in my head sounded like a villain speech out loud. My bad."
The blonde studied him in silence, then finally said, "A man is not judged by the sharpness of his wit, but by the sincerity of his heart. If you truly mean to change, Adrian, then show it—not through clever words, but through your deeds."
Adrian let out a sigh. "…Translation: shut up and prove it."
For the first time, the blonde's lips curved faintly—half amused, half resigned. "If that is how you choose to phrase it… then yes."
Adrian straightened up, trying to sound serious.
"But… y-you know, I'm ready to change," he said, and there was a subtle shift in his posture, a steadiness in his tone the blonde hadn't heard before.
The blonde's piercing blue eyes narrowed, studying him closely. "You forgot something."
Adrian blinked. "…Forgot what?"
"You forgot to say brother."
"Oh! Right, right." Adrian held his hands together, speaking deliberately. "I'm ready to change, brother."
The blonde's lips curved faintly. "Oho? Since when? Tell me."
Adrian hesitated, then said the first thing that came to mind. "…Since… where you were in your mama's womb."
The blonde froze, jaw tightening. "…What did you just say? …A. D. R. I. A. N."
Adrian waved his hands frantically. "No! Wait! I didn't mean it like that! It was… a poorly chosen instinctive reference! Totally harmless!"
The blonde's expression softened slightly, but his sharp gaze remained. He leaned back, studying Adrian intently. "Something is… different about you. The old Adrian would have blustered, lied, or tried to charm his way out. But now… you speak cautiously. You measure your words. You seem… aware of others."
Adrian scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "…Uh, I guess… you could say my behavior is evolving? Maybe I'm not exactly the same brat as before?"
The blonde's lips pressed into a thin line, nodding almost imperceptibly. "Good. If this change continues, there may yet be hope for you."
Adrian smirked nervously. "Hope… huh? I think I can live with that."
Even the maid peeked up, still wary but sensing that something in Adrian had shifted—he was no longer entirely the child everyone had feared.
Illieon stepped closer, calm and commanding. "As the son of the patriarch, I shall teach you a lesson. Not as an enemy, but as a brother. You would not object, correct?"
Adrian rubbed the back of his neck, thinking fast. "Object? Uh… well, technically, refusing would be… ill-advised. You're stronger, older, and more experienced. So yeah, I'll comply. But, you know, purely for… research purposes."
Illieon's sharp blue eyes studied him, calm but piercing. "Research purposes? Adrian… this is not a debate. I am serious."
Adrian waved his hands nervously. "I know, I know! I'm serious too! I just… like to analyze everything before diving in. Helps prevent… you know, catastrophic accidents, property damage, emotional trauma… all that jazz."
Illieon's lips twitched faintly, a hint of amusement flickering through his noble composure. "You speak cleverly, yet your words dance around the point. Action, not chatter, will prove your intent."
Adrian nodded vigorously, a faint grin forming. "Action understood. I'll… do my best. No collateral damage, maximum compliance, minimum embarrassment—well, at least for today."
Illieon exhaled softly, eyes narrowing. "…Very well. Then let this be your first lesson: behave as a son and as my brother. The rest will follow."
Adrian tilted his head, muttering quietly. "Okay… brother, lesson received. Now, time to observe, adapt, and survive the noble sibling hierarchy. Probability of success… hmm… hopefully above average."
The faintest hint of a smile appeared on Illieon's face. "…We shall see, Adrian. We shall see."
Adrian followed Illieon onto the training ground. The sun gleamed off polished swords and targets, and all around, the Patriarch's wives—including his mother—and visiting nobles quietly watched. He felt her immediately, calm and elegant, and a small, mischievous smile tugged at his lips.
He looked at Illieon. Saying he's teaching me as a brother… yeah, he definitely planned this from the start.
Adrian's mind began to race. If I had a weapon like this…
He pictured it perfectly in his head: the barrel, the chamber, the trigger, the hammer, the stock. He imagined how each part fit together, how the recoil would feel, how the mechanisms would fire in perfect harmony. Every detail was clear, as if he were holding it for real.
And then, without him noticing, a tiny spark flickered in his hand. He didn't realize it yet, but something in him—or maybe the world—was responding to the weapon forming in his mind.