Tokyo was alive with noise. The hum of neon lights, the chatter of bustling crowds, and the rumble of distant trains formed the city's unrelenting symphony. Kenji Asamiya weaved through the throng, his head down, hood pulled over his face. The world did not see him, and he preferred it that way.

  In his past life, Kenji was a loner with a love for the fantastical worlds of video games, manga, and anime. To him, reality was dull and unkind. He had once dreamed of grand adventures, and he imagined himself as the hero saving the day. But life had proven to be less forgiving.

  Orphaned young, with no family to speak of Kenji had learned the hard way that the world didn't care about dreamers. He worked grueling hours at a dead-end coding job, barely scraping by. He spent what little free time he had indulging in his favorite pastimes, losing himself in digital worlds where he could be anyone or anything— other than who he was.

  Tonight was no different. His only plans were to pick up the latest volume of his favorite light novel and return to his cramped apartment. But as he turned a corner, his steps faltered.

  A scream tore through the air.

  Kenji froze, his heart pounding as his gaze darted to the alleyway ahead. A man in a suit, bloodied and trembling, stumbled out. Behind him, a trio of thugs loomed, laughing as they closed in. One of them held a knife that glinted under the flickering streetlight.

  Kenji’s breath hitched. He had seen this kind of scenario countless times in his favorite stories. The weak victim. The villains. The bystander who had the choice to act.

  "Help... someone, please..." the man croaked, collapsing to his knees.

  Kenji's fists clenched. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to walk away. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't strong. He was nobody. And yet, his feet carried him forward.

  "Hey!" Kenji's voice cracked as he stepped into the alley, his heart hammering in his chest. The thugs turned to him, their sneers widening.

  "Well, look at this. A wannabe savior," one of them mocked.

  Kenji swallowed hard. "Just... leave him alone. You've got what you wanted, right?"

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  The leader chuckled, twirling the knife in his hand. "And if we don't? What are you gonna do about it?"

  Kenji had no answer. He wasn't a fighter, and the fear in his gut was overwhelming.

  But as the victim groaned, blood pooling beneath him, Kenji took a shaky step forward.

  "Don't... don't make me call the cops!" he bluffed, pulling out his phone.

  The leader's grin vanished. "Tch. Idiot." With a flick of his wrist, the thug lunged forward.

  Kenji didn't even have time to react. Pain bloomed in his side as the knife plunged deep. He gasped, stumbling back, his phone clattering to the ground. The world blurred as he sank to his knees, warmth spreading across his shirt.

  "Should've minded your own business," the thug muttered, pulling the knife free.

  They turned and fled, leaving Kenji to collapse onto the cold pavement.

  As he lay there, blood soaking into the ground, Kenji's vision began to fade. The irony was not lost on him-he had tried to be a hero, just once, and this was his reward.

  "Maybe... I should've stayed in my games," he whispered, a bitter smile tugging at his lips.

  But as the darkness closed in, something unexpected happened. A faint blue light appeared in his peripheral vision, growing brighter with each passing second. A soft, melodic voice echoed in his mind.

  "Host identified. System initializing... compatibility: 97%. Beginning soul transference."

  Kenji's thoughts swirled. What was this? Some kind of hallucination? Or had he finally lost it?

  Before he could make sense of it, the voice spoke again.

  "Rebirth in progress. Welcome to the world of infinite evolution."

  The light engulfed him, and Kenji's consciousness was torn from his body.

  

  When Kenji next opened his eyes, he was no longer in Tokyo. No longer lying in a pool of his own blood. He was warm, cradled by something large and soft. He blinked, his vision blurry, and the first thing he saw was a face unlike any he had seen before.

  It was monstrous-yet kind. Green skin, tusks protruding from the lower jaw, long black hair, and golden eyes filled with an odd mix of fear and wonder.

  He tried to speak, but all that came out was a weak cry.

  The creature-a female ogre, though Kenji didn't know that yet-gently rocked him, her expression softening. She whispered something in a guttural language he couldn't understand, her voice soothing.

  Kenji was no longer in the world he knew. He was no longer the man he had been.

  And as the ogre queen held him close, a strange screen flickered into existence before his eyes.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  Kenji couldn't comprehend it all just yet, but deep down, a single thought echoed in his mind.

  I'm alive... I really have a second chance at life and this time, I won't waste it.

  And so, Kenji Asamiya's second life began—not as a savior, nor as a victim, but as a child destined to bridge the gap between two worlds.