In the middle of a vast, endless sea, a small dining table floated gently on the water. Its golden surface shimmered like sunlight trapped in metal, and atop it sat delicate porcelain cups trimmed with silver.
"So… I'm dead," I muttered, unable to tear my eyes away from the blonde-haired goddess before me.
Her white robe fluttered in the ocean breeze, catching the light like threads of moonlight. Her beauty was so divine it almost hurt to look at her—especially her chest, which bounced with every subtle movement, as if it had its own gravitational field.
It was just like a novel—no, exactly like one of those worn-out, cliché isekai setups. And yet it was happening. To me.
Honestly? I wasn't complaining.
"What's the plot? Are you sending me to another world? Do I have to defeat a demon king? Or reincarnate as something weird?"
Without thinking, I lifted the porcelain cup and took a sip.
The taste hit me instantly—pure saltwater. My face crumpled into the expression of someone hearing they have only one day left to live.
"What is this? Are you really a goddess? Do you actually drink this?"
"Of course not." She blinked, expression perfectly blank. "I only drink heaven's special tea. I would never touch… this."
"And this?" I pointed accusingly at the cup.
She lifted one graceful finger and pointed straight down. The sea rippled beneath us.
My soul left my body for the second time that day. Not that it made sense. I was already dead.
"Sea water?"
she confirmed with a tiny nod.
I stared at the cup, then at her. "…Then why did you put salt water in it instead of tea? Is it just for decoration?"
"I didn't want to waste my divine-class tea," she said calmly. "And I didn't expect you to actually drink it. So it isn't my fault."
Her face remained emotionless. She wasn't joking—she was absolutely serious.
I rubbed my forehead. What was the point of arguing with someone who served the ocean as tea?
"Whatever… am I going to another world or not?"
I forced myself to relax. Like the goddess before me, I kept my face steady and blank.
Truthfully, even before dying, I was never the type to show much emotion.
"You are indeed going to another world," she said, "but not to defeat anyone or anything."
She didn't finish the sentence. Instead, she raised her hand. Light gathered at her fingertips, swirling like pale smoke, then condensed into a small object.
Not a book.
A notebook—no, a diary.
It was light brown, plain and unimpressive, like something bought from a cheap stationery shop. No patterns, no glowing symbols, no dramatic aura. Just… ordinary.
She placed the diary into my hands.
"What is this?" I asked, brows pulling together as confusion spread across my face.
"It contains all the information about the world you're going to," she said.
"What? Are you serious? You expect me to memorize everything in this thing?"
I tried to keep my face as blank as hers, but my eyebrows betrayed me.
She studied me for a moment, her eyes calm, almost understanding.
"Don't worry. You don't need to memorize anything. Just think about the information you want, and the diary will display it."
"…Can't you just give me a system?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Her expression finally cracked.
"A system?" Her voice sharpened. "Do you have any idea how expensive it is to install a system into a host? And the taxes! Do you know how much the gods charge for processing one?"
For the first time, she actually looked angry.
I blinked, startled.
'Why is she suddenly mad?'
Though… judging by her reaction, one thing was clear: She was either broke, stingy, or possibly both.
"Cost for the system?" I repeated. "I… don't understand. Can you explain?"
She gave me a flat look—the kind that said You wouldn't get it even if I tried.
"What's the point of explaining it to you?" she sighed. "Anyway—next is choosing your ability."
She lifted her hand again. A soft glow appeared, and when it faded, two thin sheets of paper rested in her palm.
"These are your options," she said. "The ability list."
"Innate ability? Mystic arts?" I murmured, reading the headings.
"What do these even mean?"
"I can only give abilities that match the world you're going to," she said. "People there are born with innate abilities. Mystic arts are basically their version of magic."
Her explanation was so short and vague that it confused me even more.
"I see…" I lied, pretending I understood.
I lowered my gaze and began reading through the lists.
"The world you're going to has no humans," she added. "No elves, no dwarves—only humanoid animals. Beastkin, demi-humans… creatures like these."
She tapped the diary in my hands.
"Each species possesses an innate ability at birth. Wolves inherit abilities related to hunting—strength, senses, instincts. Snakes gain venom-related traits. Birds manipulate wind or vision. The ability always matches the creature."
Her gaze sharpened. "Your ability must blend into that world. Otherwise, you will stand out too much."
"There are no humans? Not even elves?"
My voice cracked before I could stop it.
'There goes my childhood dream…'
The thought slid through my mind like a knife, leaving a small, stupid ache in my chest.
"How am I supposed to survive in a beast world? What if they eat me?" I protested.
"That is not my concern," she said flatly.
"If you refuse to go…" Her lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. "I will gladly send you to hell instead."
A chill ran down my spine.
"I—I never said I wouldn't go. Haha… see? Totally willing."
The laugh that escaped me sounded like something broken pretending it wasn't.
I looked over the ability list again. WolfbornFerocity. Serpent Venom. Owl-Sight. BearEndurance. All powerful. All wrong for me.
After a long silence, I exhaled.
"These aren't suitable," I said. "But… if you can create an ability—something I describe—then maybe I can survive."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Only for innate ability," she said. "Not mystic arts."
I pressed a hand to my forehead.
'A world full of beastkin… I'll be the weakest creature alive.'
Strength. Speed. Agility. Claws. Fangs. None of them fit me.
Slowly, a dangerous idea formed.
My eyes lifted.
"I've decided," I said. My voice felt steadier than it should. "I want… control. Over every part of my body. Every cell."
The words hung between us.
Her eyebrow twitched—the first sign of surprise I'd seen since meeting her.
"It's not impossible," she said. "But did you forget? It must blend into the world."
"It will," I insisted. "It focuses only on my body. I can hide it."
She stared at me for a long moment.
"…Alright," she said finally, returning to her stoic expression.