The rusted blade slipped from Kaito's fingers, clattering against the cracked stone floor.
For a moment, he just stood there. Breathing. Bleeding. Alive.
The twins clung to his sides, small fists tangled in the shredded fabric of his stolen shirt. They made no sound now. No sobs. No whimpers. Just silent, shaking warmth pressed against his ribs.
Kaito tightened his arms around them automatically.
Alive. They're alive.
The words repeated in his skull like a broken prayer, fighting against the roar of old blood surging through his ears. His body wanted to collapse. His mind refused.
"Stay up," he muttered under his breath. "Just a little longer."
The room smelled of iron and dust. The bodies of the dead bandits stained the wooden floorboards, leaking dark puddles that soaked into the worn grain. Their faces were twisted in shock—still frozen in the last moments before death.
Kaito stared at them for a long second. No satisfaction. No remorse. Just necessity.
He pried himself free from the twins' desperate grip and staggered toward the nearest corpse. His knees buckled halfway there, but he caught himself against the doorframe with a ragged grunt.
He stripped anything useful: a half-empty water skin, a pouch of dried meat jerky, a battered flint striker, and a few still-sharp knives.
By the time he finished, he had a sad little pile of salvaged gear and shallow scrapes stinging under the film of sweat and dust.
A soft sound snapped his head up—the twins.
They hadn't moved from the doorway. Still watching him. Still hugging each other like they were afraid the world would tear them apart the second they blinked.
Kaito's chest twisted sharply.
"I'm okay," he rasped.
It was a lie. But it was a good lie. Necessary.
He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the way his legs protested, and limped back to them. Crouching low, he rested one bloody hand on each of their heads.
"You're safe. I'm not going anywhere."
They nodded—tiny, trembling motions—but didn't speak. Didn't have to.
Their small fingers reached out, grabbing the edges of his sleeves, anchoring him in place.
Kaito smiled—a weak, broken thing—and stood again.
He stared at their faces—
—and the world tilted slightly.
The twins.
Exactly like his sisters.
Not similar. Not "sort of." Exactly.
Coincidence? Reincarnation? A joke from whatever gods were left?
Didn't matter.
This time, they wouldn't die.
First things first.
The grave was shallow. Just dirt scraped away by broken shovels and bleeding hands. He wasn't proud of it.
But the old memories—the ones that didn't belong to him, yet lived inside him now—guided his feet.
He buried the body beside another grave, one marked by a crude wooden cross and worn desert stones: his—no, Kaito Tenshin's—mother.
The twins stood silently behind him, holding hands, their faces crumpled with grief, pale and tear-streaked, like they were trying to be brave and failing miserably.
"I'm sorry," Kaito said softly.
No grand prayers. No promises.
Just two words. And the heavy silence of the desert wind.
He turned to the twins, lowering himself so they could see his face clearly.
"Stay in the barnhouse for now," he said. "Rest. Stay together. Don't open the door for anyone but me."
Their faces tightened—grieving, afraid—but they nodded without argument.
He brushed a hand lightly over their heads before ushering them gently toward the barnhouse's battered door.
Once they were safely inside, he exhaled slowly and turned back to face the wreckage—and the voice that refused to leave him alone.
[BOOT SEQUENCE INITIATED]
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
[SYSTEM SYNC COMPLETE]
[TRAUMA IMPRINT VERIFIED]
[DEATHCRAFT SYSTEM ONLINE]
[Hello~! Wow, you’re a mess! Let’s fix that, yeah?]
Kaito blinked.
He wasn't alone in his own head anymore.
[SYSTEM NOTICE: Congratulations on surviving your Awakening!☆]
Awakening.
The word rattled through the memories of the boy whose life he now wore. The old Kaito had heard about it once — rare cases where a dying soul triggered a system instead of passing on. It wasn’t earned. It wasn’t deserved. It happened by chance, when the world noticed someone and refused to let them die. Most were never noticed. Somehow, it had noticed him.
"Interesting," Kaito muttered.
[SYSTEM NOTICE: Heehee~ And you get me!☆ I'm Lilith! Your personal deathcraft assistant!☆]
The system tag shifted.
[LILITH: That's right! Lilith here! Reporting for death-related duty~☆]
He stared at the bodies on the floor.
Insane or not, it didn't matter.
[LILITH: Now~ Let's peek at your baby stats, 'kay?☆]
[STATUS: Kaito Tenshin]
- Class: Death Crafter — A rare and cursed archetype. Able to craft weapons, armor, constructs, minions, and tools using death itself as raw material.
- Level: 1
- Strength (STR): 12 → -60% = 4.8
- Agility (AGI): 13 → -60% = 5.2
- Endurance (END): 11 → -60% = 4.4
- Perception (PER): 10
- Intelligence (INT): 9
- Willpower (WIL): 12
Negative Status:
- Malnourished and Fatigued (All physical stats reduced by 60%)
Kaito read the data with a flat stare.
Weak. Starving. Breathing.
Good enough.
"Corpses," he muttered.
[LILITH: Bingo!☆ Just hold your hand out and imagine slurping them up!☆]
He crouched by the nearest bandit corpse and extended his hand.
For a breath, nothing happened.
Then—a pressure twisted inside his palm, a mouth unseen but very real.
The corpse trembled—then collapsed inward as flesh, blood, and soul spiraled into him in a sharp, crimson rush.
Kaito flexed his fingers.
"That felt weirdly satisfying" he muttered.
Without hesitating, he moved to the next corpse.
And the next.
Each body collapsed inward under his extended hand, sucked dry of flesh, bone, and soul residue. His palm ached with every pull, the invisible mouth embedded there working overtime to harvest every scrap of death left behind.
[Inventory Update] Total Collected:
- Flesh: 37 units
- Bones: 25 units
- Soul Fragments: 15 units
- Trauma Residue: 5 units
[SYSTEM NOTICE: Starter Blueprints Granted!] You have received 3 random beginner blueprints:
- Bone Knife (Weapon) — Required Materials: Bones x2
- Fleshtwine Rope (Tool) — Required Materials: Flesh x4
- Grinwalker (Minion) — Required Materials: Flesh x6, Bones x4, Soul Fragments x2
[LILITH: Eeeee~! Contractor, you're loaded with goodies!☆ Let's spend it wisely, 'kay~?☆]
[CRAFTING OPTIONS AVAILABLE]
- Bone Knife (Weapon) — A jagged blade carved from scavenged bone. Crude, but deadly.
- Fleshtwine Rope (Tool) — Sticky, flexible rope woven from tendons and nerves.
- Grinwalker (Minion) — A crawling scout construct stitched from scraps and bone.
[LILITH: Pick one~!☆ You can always make more later~!]
"Grinwalker," he muttered.
[LILITH: Eeee~!☆ Excellent choice, Contractor!☆ Let's get crafting~!☆]
The air around him thickened—then snapped, like reality had been punctured.
Crimson cracks raced down his arms and spine. Kaito staggered, gasping, as something erupted from his back—an explosion of shadow and gore given form.
Demonic hands, dozens of them, burst free from his flesh, each one dripping with viscous, blackened blood. Their clawed fingers worked feverishly, weaving the materials from his inventory with brutal precision.
Bones splintered and snapped in midair, guided by those unnatural hands. Flesh tore itself into strips and twisted into sinewy ropes, binding the skeletal frame together.
When the skeletal frame was complete, the hands shuddered and froze in place.
A pull, deep and unnatural, stirred inside Kaito’s chest. Instinct drove him forward. He inhaled sharply, a biting chill flooding his lungs, and when he exhaled, a thin stream of blue-tinged mist flowed from his mouth.
The breath drifted down into the hollow chest of the stitched abomination, sinking into marrow and twisted flesh.
The corpse spasmed violently—a shudder of stolen life forcing itself into dead matter.
The Grinwalker's stitched grin stretched unnaturally wide as it hissed, spasming and twitching into movement.
The demonic hands withered back into Kaito’s spine, dragging burning lines of agony with them, leaving him gasping and half-collapsed.
It wasn't beautiful. It wasn't clean.
It was a birth soaked in blood, horror, and defiance.
The Grinwalker crawled forward on malformed, clawed limbs, its twitching grin stretching wider—mocking its creator with every broken, eager step.
Kaito slumped against the nearest wall, breathing heavily, his body trembling with exhaustion and residual pain.
But he didn't stop.
The farmhouse was still scattered with broken furniture, ruined supplies, and filth. He needed more. More tools. More protection. More minions.
The Grinwalker twitched at his feet, tilting its grotesque head sideways as if awaiting orders.
Kaito wiped the blood from his mouth, pushed himself upright, and grunted, "A couple more would be great."
[LILITH: Eeeee~!☆ Contractor wants an entourage~!☆ Let's do it~☆]
Once again, the crimson cracks ripped across his spine. Demonic hands burst from his flesh, and without hesitation, began harvesting the stored flesh, bone, soul fragments, and trauma residue.
The process repeated three more times, each one no less horrifying than the last—blood, sinew, and soul stitched into new broken mockeries of life.
Each breath he forced into the hollow frames felt like losing a piece of himself.
By the time the fourth Grinwalker spasmed into existence, Kaito could barely stand.
He only dropped back against the wall, stared at the wreckage of his life, and silently "I need to eat something, maybe a nap will be good"
The four Grinwalkers twitched restlessly at his feet, stitched mouths grinning wide and hollow.
[LILITH: Uwah~☆ So many creepy-crawlies already!☆ Contractor sure works fast!☆ But~!☆ You might want to store them before they start getting ideas~!☆]
Kaito grunted, narrowing his eyes. "Store them?"
[LILITH: Yup yup!☆ Just suck them up like you did with the corpses!☆ Super easy, super neat!☆]
He raised an eyebrow. "That's... possible?"
[LILITH: Of course!☆ Would I ever lie to you~?☆ (Maybe.)☆ Anyway, just think about pulling them into your inventory. They won't bite~! (Probably.)☆]
Kaito sighed, wiped a bit of drying blood from his jaw, force himself to stand and reached out instinctively.
The Grinwalkers froze under his gaze. One after another, they shimmered faintly — and with a subtle tug at the edge of his will, each one collapsed into a sharp burst of crimson mist, vanishing into his hand.
A moment later, new icons blinked into existence inside his inventory: Simple cards, each marked with the twisted grin and hollow eyes of their grotesque forms — waiting silently for his call.
[STATUS: Kaito Tenshin]
- Class: Death Crafter
- Level: 1
Attributes:
- Strength (STR): 12 → -60% = 4.8
- Agility (AGI): 13 → -60% = 5.2
- Endurance (END): 11 → -60% = 4.4
- Perception (PER): 10
- Intelligence (INT): 9
- Willpower (WIL): 12
Negative Status:
- Malnourished and Fatigued (All physical stats reduced by 60%)
Inventory:
- Flesh: 37 - 24 = 13 units
- Bones: 25 - 16 = 9 units
- Soul Fragments: 15 - 8 = 7 units
- Trauma Residue: 5 - 4 = 1 unit
Minions:
- Grinwalker x4 (Freshly Crafted)