Nash's eyes lingered on the puppet before him.
At first glance she looked perfect, almost too perfect. Her skin had that faint glow of life, and her eyes blinked naturally, shifting as if she was curious. Her lips were soft and moist, her hair silky smooth. Anyone walking past would think she was a real human woman.
But then Nash's gaze dropped lower.
Her joints.
The elbows, the knees, even the wrists. There were faint outlines, like seamless doll joints carefully hidden beneath skin, but still visible when she moved her head or shifted slightly. It was as if the system could not make her one hundred percent human.
Up close, the difference was clear. She was a puppet. A flawless puppet, but still a puppet.
"Shit," Nash muttered, scratching the back of his head. "You're way too obvious like this. Naked and stiff like a showroom doll. If anyone sees you, they're going to know something's off. Can't have that."
He sighed, pulling at the hem of his shirt. For a moment, he hesitated, then stripped off his jacket and pants, leaving himself in nothing but his boxers.
He carefully dressed her, pulling the pants up her smooth legs, buttoning his jacket across her chest.
When he finally stepped back, he whistled.
"Damn. That's actually… perfect."
Covered in clothes, the unnatural joints were hidden. Her curves looked natural beneath the fabric, and the jacket somehow made her appear even more like a model walking out of some nightclub.
Nash, meanwhile, was freezing in his underwear.
"Yeah, this is definitely not how I pictured my second life starting," he muttered.
The puppet blinked at him. She tilted her head left, then right, eyes moving as if studying him. But she made no effort to move her arms or legs.
Nash frowned. "You're alive… but not alive. Weird. Can't talk, can't walk. Just standing there like a robot without a command."
Another chime sounded in his ears.
> [Control Feature Unlocked.]
A new menu opened before his eyes. He scrolled quickly, noticing the glowing line of text.
> [Unnamed Puppet Detected.]
Nash rubbed his chin. "Unnamed, huh. Alright then. Let's give you a name. How about… Hina."
He typed it in.
> [Puppet renamed: Hina.]
The screen flickered, and suddenly his vision blurred. His stomach dropped, and the world spun violently.
When his sight cleared, Nash froze.
He was no longer looking at Hina. He was looking at himself.
His own body stood stiffly against the corner of the alley, eyes closed, chest rising and falling faintly like he was in a deep sleep. His boxer-clad figure looked ridiculous.
Nash raised a hand, and in front of him Hina's delicate fingers moved exactly the same. He took a step, and Hina's long, smooth legs carried him forward.
His breath hitched.
"This… this is insane."
He touched his cheek. The soft, flawless skin of Hina's face was all he felt. His voice, when he spoke, echoed like multiple tones layered together, both male and female, mechanical and organic.
"I literally… became her."
Nash laughed nervously, staring at his real body standing helpless at the alley wall.
"This is so damn weird. I'm basically naked and asleep over there, while I'm walking around in… her body."
He pinched Hina's cheek just to feel it. It was soft, warm, disturbingly real.
Nash took a deep breath. "Alright. No time to freak out. This is power. This is survival. I need money, food, and a place to crash. No one's going to hand that to me."
His gaze shifted toward the mouth of the alley.
A stupid plan formed in his mind.
"The system said the puppet is indestructible. So what if I… lure someone bad, beat them, and rob them? It's not like I'm going to rob a store or some random civilian. I'll just… let creeps come to me."
He chuckled to himself bitterly. "God, I sound insane. But what else can I do? I don't have a single dime. This is survival, not greed."
With his mind set, Nash walked Hina's body to the entrance of the alley. She stood there silently, tall and striking in the dim light.
The street was dark, quiet. A few people walked here and there, but the area was not busy.
Minutes passed.
Nash waited.
Then he noticed him.
Across the street, a man loitered by a cracked lamppost. His clothes were ragged, his gait uneven. From time to time, he glanced toward Hina. His eyes lingered too long.
Nash smirked. "Gotcha."
The man finally crossed the street, swaggering toward her. His breath reeked of alcohol even from a few feet away.
"Well, aren't you a tall beauty," the man slurred, grinning with yellowed teeth. He reached out, his hand brushing Hina's arm. "Why don't you come to my place? I'll take good care of you."
Nash, speaking through Hina, muttered a single word. "No."
His voice was warped, a strange fusion of multiple tones. It startled even him.
The drunk froze for a second, then narrowed his eyes.
"What the hell kind of voice is that?" He scowled, his grip tightening on her arm. "You think you're too good for me, huh? Standing here at this hour, dressed like that? Don't play dumb. You're out here because you want it."
Nash clenched Hina's fists. His chest boiled with disgust.
"You've got it all wrong," Nash said, voice low and eerie.
The drunk spat to the side. "Shut up, whore. You're coming with me. I'll pay you after I'm done."
He yanked at her wrist.
Hina did not budge. Not even a fraction of an inch.
The man's face twisted in confusion. "What the…"
Nash pulled back Hina's arm and drove her fist into his stomach.
The impact was explosive. The man's body lifted off the ground, his eyes rolling back before he crumpled into the pavement, unconscious.
Nash blinked in shock.
"I barely used any strength…" he muttered. "What the hell kind of power is this puppet packing?"
Shaking his head, he quickly crouched down and rifled through the man's belongings. He found a wallet stuffed with unfamiliar bills, a cheap phone, and even stripped the man of his pants and jacket.
"Sorry, pal. You brought this on yourself."
He straightened up, shoving the loot into the jacket pocket. For a moment, he looked around nervously, but the street remained empty.
Then a problem hit him like a truck.
If he returned to his original body now, Hina would stop moving completely. She could not unsummon either.
Which meant… his body would be lying there like a useless mannequin in boxers.
"Shit. What do I do?"
Grumbling, Nash walked Hina back into the alley. He hoisted his own unconscious body onto Hina's shoulder. The sensation was surreal, carrying himself around like dead weight.
Thankfully, Hina's body did not tire. Nash could run, jump, and carry heavy loads without so much as breaking a sweat.
After several blocks, he spotted a small park. A few benches lined the cobblestone path, trees swaying gently in the night breeze.
He laid his real body carefully on one bench, propping it up to look like a man passed out drunk.
Then, still in Hina's form, he sat beside himself and took a deep breath.
"Alright. Let's see if this works."
With a thought, he released control.
The world spun again, and Nash's consciousness slammed back into his real body. His eyes shot open, and he gasped.
His body ached faintly as if it had been asleep too long. He sat up quickly, glancing at Hina.
She was still as a statue, head bowed, waiting silently.
Nash reached into the jacket pocket and pulled out the stolen wallet. He flipped it open and stared.
His heart pounded.
"…Holy shit. This is actually a lot."
The colorful bills were thick, neatly folded. Even without knowing exact values, he could tell it was enough to keep him alive for a while.
Nash laughed weakly, running a hand through his messy hair.
"I just mugged my first creep in another world... and it worked. God help me, it actually worked."
He leaned back against the bench, staring at the night sky above the park.
For the first time since waking up in this strange world, Nash felt a sliver of hope.
His survival had just begun.