CHAPTER 1: Wait — Is This an Isekai?!
The knife went into his ribs and Ren thought two things simultaneously.
First: Yuna is safe.
Second: Oh no. I'm about to die aren't I.
He slid down the alley wall slowly, hand pressed to his side, watching his sister's retreating figure disappear around the corner. Good. She was fast. She'd make it.
The cold spread through his chest and Ren — eighteen years old, part-time convenience store worker, owner of approximately four hundred pirated anime episodes and zero life achievements — closed his eyes.
Huh. So this is how it ends.
He wasn't even that scared. Just... tired. Three years of holding everything together on four hours of sleep and one meal a day would do that to a person.
Be okay, Yuna, he thought, and let go.
He woke up in a waiting room.
White walls. White floor. A guy in a black suit doing paperwork at a desk like death itself had a nine-to-five.
Ren stared. The guy looked up. Silver hair, dark blue eyes, expression of someone with too many TPS reports and not enough weekend.
"You're early," the man said flatly.
Ren pointed at himself. "...Am I dead?"
"Yes."
"Is this—" Ren looked around at the white void. His hands were translucent. "Oh my god. Am I being reincarnated?"
The god of death blinked. "I haven't offered that yet."
"But you're going to." Ren leaned forward. "You're going to say it was a mistake, right? That I wasn't supposed to die? And then you'll send me to a fantasy world with a cheat skill?" He gasped. "Do I get a status screen?!"
A very long pause.
"...You're taking this unusually well," the god said.
"I've watched a lot of anime."
The god stared at him for a moment, then looked down at his documents with the expression of a man deeply reconsidering his career. "Your sister was the one scheduled to die. You changed that. You shouldn't have been able to." He slid a paper forward. "So. Reincarnation. New world. Magic, monsters, dungeons. You'll take the body of a deceased eighteen-year-old and keep his memories alongside your own."
Ren was already nodding aggressively. "Yes. Absolutely. One hundred percent. Do I get skills?"
"...Yes."
Ren pumped his fist.
The skill selection was everything he'd ever dreamed of and slightly more overwhelming. Thousands of floating panels, ranked S to F, glowing in the dark like a gacha banner that actually mattered.
He took his time. The god stood silently to the side, radiating quiet suffering.
S-Rank — Fate Defiance. The thing that had saved Yuna, made conscious. Once a month, alter one thread of fate. Ren grabbed it immediately. Broken. Absolutely broken. Taking it.
A-Rank — Absolute Memory. Perfect recall of everything. Given he'd be carrying two lifetimes in one skull, this was less a power and more a survival tool.
B-Rank — Void Blade. Magic-cutting sword energy that scaled with understanding of nothingness. Ren had spent three years feeling invisible. He figured he qualified.
C-Rank — Elemental Attunement. Learn any magic type instead of being locked to one. Flexible. Efficient. Very much his style.
D-Rank — Shadow Step. Short-range blink movement, silent footsteps, threat detection. Assassin class starter pack.
Then he reached the F-rank tier and stopped.
[SKILL FORGE — F Rank]Create new skills from experience and understanding. All forged skills begin at F rank and evolve through use.
F rank. The bottom of the barrel. Most people probably scrolled right past it.
Ren read it twice, and felt something click in his brain like a key turning.
Unlimited skill creation. Starting weak, sure. But the ceiling? Nonexistent.
"This one," he said, taking it without hesitation.
The god glanced over. For just a moment, something in his expression shifted — not quite impressed, but close. "Interesting."
"The weakest skill with the highest potential." Ren grinned. "Sounds like every good protagonist ever."
The god opened his mouth. Closed it. Pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Your name is Kai now," he said. "Try not to cause too much paperwork."
The white void dissolved.
Kai opened his eyes to warm sunlight, a timber ceiling, and the smell of a fantasy world that had absolutely no idea what was coming.
He sat up, let two sets of memories settle into place like puzzle pieces finding their edges, looked at his new hands — sword calluses, one scar on the left thumb — and smiled.
Status screen, he thought instinctively.
A translucent panel blinked into existence in front of his face.
He actually laughed out loud.
Okay, he thought, swinging his legs off the bed. Let's go.
— END OF CHAPTER 1 —