Chapter 1: New World
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The first thing Arin Vey noticed was the sharp sting in his eyes. White ceiling. Fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. A smell of disinfectant that clawed at his nose.
"Hospital…?" His dry lips barely formed the word.
Outside the door, muffled voices slipped through.
"…Mr. Vey senior is still critical."
"…the son? He woke up?"
Arin tried to sit, but dizziness pulled him back against the bed. That was when it happened.
A golden shimmer flickered into existence before his eyes letters forming, glowing, floating.
[System Installation Complete]
[Gold Level Anime Production House System Activated]
His heart skipped a beat.
What… the hell is this?
The glowing text burned into his vision like a brand. Then, with the force of a crashing tide, memories surged into his head. Memories not of this body… but of another life.
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His Past Life
In that world, his name was also Arin Vey. A dreamer. A failure. A man who loved anime more than anything else.
He had grown up in a cramped apartment stacked with manga volumes, VHS tapes, and Blu-rays of every anime he could get his hands on. When his classmates went out drinking, Arin stayed up until dawn sketching storyboards of how he would film those scenes in real life.
He wasn't obsessed with Hollywood. He didn't care about war epics or romantic comedies. His dream was singular:
"One day, I'll bring anime to life."
He had studied Film Direction, clung to his passion with every rejection. Studio executives had laughed at him. "Anime? Into film? Audiences won't watch such nonsense. Too childish."
But Arin never let go. His notebook was filled with adapted scripts of Naruto, Your Name, Death Note. He could see every shot, every frame, every camera angle in his mind.
Until that rainy night. Until headlights blurred his vision and a truck tore through the darkness.
Pain. Screeching metal. Blackness.
His last thought: If only I had one more chance…
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The New World
And here it was.
This body this Arin was twenty-eight years old, a recent graduate of Film Direction from the University of Comloboia. His father? Owner of a small, struggling production house.
But the biggest shock was this world itself.
No Japan. No anime. No manga. No cultural explosion of animation that had shaped millions of lives. Cinema here was shallow, dominated by cheap soap operas and dramas. Special effects were pathetic, laughably worse than what his old world had in the early 2000s.
So that's it, Arin thought, staring at the golden screen. This is why I've been reborn. To create what doesn't exist here. To build anime where it never existed.
His pulse raced. The screen expanded.
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The Gold Level Anime Production House System
[Functions Unlocked]
1. All Anime Scripts Available
2. All Anime Sets Available
3. Other-Dimensional Props Accessible
4. Perfect Editing Suite
[Condition of Use]
Earn System Points.
Popularity → Points.
Arin felt his chest tighten.
Every anime script… every set… every prop… all in my hands?
This wasn't just a second chance. This was a golden stage.
---
The Struggle of Inheritance
But the outside world was less forgiving.
Two days later, when he was discharged, the board of directors summoned him. They sat around a long glass table, suits pressed, expressions grim.
"Mr. Vey," one of them said, "with your father in a coma, the company's future is uncertain. Investors are restless. Some are suggesting we sell to Helix Studios. Others want us to scale down to bare survival."
Their eyes turned on him, skeptical. A fresh graduate. A boy who had never directed a single feature.
Arin sat silently, fingers tightening on the chair's armrest. His heart pounded, but he forced a calm smile.
You don't know yet. You don't know what's coming. But you will.
When the meeting ended, Arin walked out without a word. His mind was already racing.
That night, in his office, he opened the System. A golden library stretched before him, endless rows of floating script titles.
Naruto. One Piece. Attack on Titan. Fullmetal Alchemist. Death Note.
Arin's breath caught when he saw it.
"Death Note…" he whispered.
Memories rushed back: Light Yagami's god complex, L's unshakable logic, the haunting tension of justice versus corruption.
His fingers trembled as he hovered over the title.
This is it. This is the perfect beginning.
Why? Because it didn't need flashy CGI or giant monsters. This world's pathetic VFX wouldn't cripple it. The power of Death Note wasn't spectacle—it was psychology, tension, and performance.
Arin grinned.
If they've never seen anime… they'll never see this coming. And when they do, it'll shake their souls.
The instant he confirmed his choice, the System vibrated.
[Mission Triggered: Adapt "Death Note" into a Live-Action Series]
[Reward: 1,000 System Points + Unlock: Shinigami Prop Set]
The office lights flickered. The System screen glowed blinding gold.
And then—something fell onto his desk with a dull thump.
A notebook. Black cover. Silver letters etched into it.
DEATH NOTE
Arin's eyes widened. His breath hitched. His fingers trembled as he reached out and touched it. The texture was real. Too real.
He flipped the first page.
The human whose name is written in this note shall die.
Cold sweat rolled down his back. His throat tightened.
This… this isn't just a script prop. This is the real thing.
Then—laughter. A low, mocking chuckle. Not human. Not from this world.
Arin froze, heart pounding in his chest.
Someone… no, something… was here. Watching. Waiting.
The golden letters of the System flickered one last time.
And the chapter ended with Arin gripping the notebook, caught between fear and exhilaration.