Kurosawa Shizuka had always hated looking at himself on mirrors.
Not because he was ugly, he wasn't hedious.
If anything, the problem was the opposite.
He had soft features, delicate jawline, long lashes framing dark eyes that looked perpetually half-lidded in exhaustion or embarrassment.
His skin pale enough to bruise at the slightest pressure.
His hair that fell in silky black strands past his shoulders, always lengthening no matter how short he tried to cut it.
At twenty-three, he still gets carded for high-school events by mistake.
Cashiers called him "miss" half the time.
Friend, back when he had any, had stopped teasing him about it years ago because the jokes always landed too close to the bone.
He wasn't feminine by choice.
And every time he looked at himself, the word that echoed in his head was "weak."
Weak body and voice.
***
That night was no different from the others. Apartment lights dimmed to save electricity.
Rain tapping against the single window like impatient fingers.
Shizuka lay on his futon, with his phone screen glowing blue against his face, scrolling through yet another isekai novel forum.
Threads full of people ranting about overpowered protagonists, secret systems and revenge arcs, with harems of grateful waifus. The usual escapism.
He didn't even like harems that much. Women melt all over him already.
He just wanted the power part. The part where the weakling becomes untouchable.
Where no one laughs or comments at his body.
His thumb hovered over a particularly smug post: "MC starts as trash-tier but grinds to godhood in like 50 chapters lol skill issue if you can't relate."
And Shizuka's chest tightened.
He closed the app, stared at the ceiling cracks that looked like lightning scars.
"I wish…" The words slipped out before he could stop them, quiet as always. "I wish I could be strong for once. Real strength… Not this fragile bullshit. Power, like those protagonists. Just… once."
He laughed at himself, a short and bitter laugh. Then rolled over and let sleep drag him under into darkness.
He never knew he would never wake up in that apartment again.
Then—
[System Notification: Reincarnation Protocol Activated]
[Soul compatibility: 98.7%.
Transfer commencing.
You are designated the 12th Chosen Vessel.
Primary Directive: Ascend through strength. Attain God Class.
Ultimate Objective: Slay the Evil God Satan.
Reward upon success: Retain all the acquired power. Enjoy eternal glory and universal fame. And obtain one unrestricted wish.
Current survival probability: 0.03%... Adapt and evolve. Then survive.
Welcome, Vessel.]
The voice was mechanical and genderless, devoid of warmth.
It echoed inside his skull like feedback from bad headphones.
Shizuka's consciousness lurched.
He had no body yet—just a floating awareness.
Soon panic spiked, then dulled into numb acceptance.
'This is it...? The truck-kun thing? But there's no truck. Maybe my wish is coming true...' Shizuka pondered.
He tried to speak but nothing came out.
The voice continued, colder now.
[Body reconstruction complete.
Race assigned: Dark Elf (Cave Dweller)
Soul imprint stabilized.
System integration: Partial... Opening status window in 3… 2… 1…
After he heard this, a type of pain came.
Not the dramatic, full-body agony of novels. Just a sudden, bone-deep ache, like waking up after sleeping wrong for a decade.
His senses flooded back all at once:
There was cold stone under his bare skin, damp air thick with rot and minerals, distant drip of water echoing in tunnels.
But the smell hit hardest; something decay mixing with wet earth.
His eyes then opened. And he realized he was in a cave-like area.
The cave ceiling was low and jagged, studded with stalactites like hanging knives.
Dim bioluminescent fungi clung to the walls, casting everything in sickly green-blue.
But right beside him lay a woman... or what was left of her.
She had brown skin like dark honey, now mottled with black veins of rot.
Long silver-white hair matted with blood and cave slime.
Pointed ears that were long, elegant, and pierced with small bone shards that looked ceremonial.
One blue eye stared blankly at the ceiling; the other socket was empty and crusted over.
Her abdomen was torn open in a ragged line, as if something had clawed its way out. Or been pulled.
Shizuka's hand moved before his brain caught up.
He began to check himself out and learned something;
He had slender fingers...
And the same skin tone as the dead woman. He also has the same pointed ears, which he felt with his fingers.
He had short blonde hair, which was long enough for him to observe it.
He looked down to realize he was naked. And thin.
He was a small boy.
Although graceful, it still made his stomach turn.
Because he had no broad shoulders and muscle definition. Just lithe limbs, narrow waist, and soft curves where he desperately didn't want them.
The dark elf body was beautiful in an ethereal, fragile way. But it was exactly the kind of androgynous prettiness that had haunted him his whole life.
'No. No no no. This isn't what I wanted. Isn't this is worse?! Where am I even?' his thoughts were a mess.
He scrambled back, his back hitting the cave wall. His breath came in short gasps.
And his voice—when it finally emerged—was higher than before, melodic, almost musical. "What the hell…?!"
Soon, a dry cough echoed from deeper in the shadows.
An old man stepped out from nowhere;
His robes tattered and his staff gnarled and black as obsidian.
His skin was wrinkles and old, his hair was grey and dried, and his eyes glowing a molten gold, like a small sun inside there.
Before Shizuka would ask him anything, the old man regarded him for a long moment.
There was no smile or warmth in his countenance.
"My work is done, boy," he rasped, voice like grinding gravel. "The soul transfer held and your vessel is stable. Thank the elf and his mother who gave their life for your transmigration."
Shizuka glanced at the dead woman again, then back to the old man.
"Who… or what are you?"
He gave no answer... The old man only tilted his head, studying Shizuka like a specimen.
"You were Kurosawa Shizuka once, no?" he said finally. "A name that you aligned with silence, gentleness... and weakness. A name that once suited the shell. But that shell is gone now.This new body of yours can be what you imagine, prepared from birth to serve as your vessel."
Then he gestured at the corpse.
"That person was his mother. The evil god Satan made sure to hunt her down till her last breath, and I had to interfere many times. Her son managed to hide her here, but his time was up. I waited centuries for a compatible soul, and yours answered just now."
Shizuka's throat closed.
He looked at the woman again.
"Mother?"
The word felt alien.
He'd never known his real one back on Earth, being that she died birthing him.
The old man continued, unperturbed. "The gods have decided to commission twelve of you otherworlders for the task of defeating the evil god Satan, as the world system must have informed you."
Shizuka forced words out. "I know I wished for power. But what is this? I want to go home!"
The old man's eyes narrowed. "Boy, power is not given. It is taken. It is forged. Stolen from the dead and the dying. We have given you that floor to take. So, you will learn, to take, until you can destroy Satan... Adam."
The name landed like a slap.
"Adam?" Shizuka echoed, voice cracking.
The old man nodded once. "That is what you shall call yourself now. It is your True Name.."
He raised his staff. Black motes swirled around him like ash in wind.
"My duty ends here. But I gift you with my Divine Skills, [Comprehension] and [Consumer]. This is the Labyrinth of Armageddon. A perfect training ground for our champion. Take power, get stronger, and evolve. Or die forgotten like the rest before you. The choice is yours."
Shizuka—no, Adam—lurched forward. "Wait! What do I do—"
But it was too late.
The old man had dissolved.
His body turned into swirling black particles that sank into the stone floor like ink in water.
And as he was gone, utter silence came. Only the drip-drip-drip and the faint skitter of unseen things in the dark tunnels ahead.
Adam sat there, knees drawn to his chest, staring at the corpse of the woman who had been his mother for perhaps minutes.
His eyes reflected in a pooling small pond there. They were golden, like the old man's.
Then a red panel appeared before his face, floating serene in his vision.
[System Menu Unlocked
Name: Adam (Formerly: Kurosawa Shizuka)
Race: Dark Elf (Weak soil)
Class: None
Level: 1
Title: 12th Chosen Vessel
HP: 47/47
MP: 62/62
STR: 4
VIT: 5
AGI: 12
SPEED: 5
DEX: 10
INT: 18
WIS: 9
LUCK: 3
--ATTRIBUTES--
FIRE: 1
WATER: 1
WIND: 2
EARTH: 10
DARK: 5
LIGHT: 3
LIGHTNING: 2
Unique Skill: [Comprehension] [Consumer].
Extra Skill: None
Magic Skill: None
Divine Tool: None
[Available Evolution Paths: Earth Worm [Requirement - reach Level 10]
Current Location: Labyrinth of Armageddon, Cave Level 490
Quest Generated: Survive the First Day
Reward: +1 Level, Basic Survival Tool, Extra Skill]
Adam laughed, a small and broken sound that echoed off the walls.
"Survive the first day," he whispered. "One thing I know about labyrinth is that, it's hard to survive in one without weapons and equipments... And... I'm hungry..."
His gaze drifted back to the dead woman. To the torn abdomen and whatever had come out of her.
"She... was really pretty..." He muttered, "But she died because she was weak... Come to think of it, I have never seen a dead body before--!! Who's there?!"
Something small and skittering suddenly moved in the shadows ahead.
Claws on stone with a low hiss.
Adam quickly pushed himself to his feet, his legs shaky. But his body was light, too light.
The system window closed now.
Then, from the about 50 feet only entrance to the cave, he saw it...