I don't know how it happened, but one thing is clear I've been isekai'd. And not the "mysterious floating text box explaining everything" kind of isekai. Nope. I woke up in another guy's body, with a scattered collection of his memories thrown in as a complimentary headache. From what I could piece together, he was your stereotypical Japanese office worker, another cog in the soulless machine of a black-hearted company.
His last memory? Dragging his exhausted body across a crosswalk late at night after yet another unpaid overtime marathon, only to meet the legendary Truck-kun. You know the one. Big, unstoppable, and responsible for more fantasy escapades than any god ever could be. Apparently, I'm the lucky recipient of this poor sap's cosmic promotion because here I am: a brand-new world with magic, dragons, and oh, hello beautiful women.
Now, this all sounds like your typical "dude gets hit by a truck and wakes up in Fantasyland" setup. But let me tell you, there's something about this body's previous owner that sets him apart. Somehow don't ask me how this guy has a mysterious, almost gravitational pull for gorgeous women. Case in point: when I opened my eyes, I was greeted by a big-breasted beauty hugging me like a teddy bear.
Her face was serene, her chest rising and falling in sync with her breathing. And the warmth of her skin oh man, let's just say it's been a while since I've been this close to a woman. It took every ounce of willpower not to let my thoughts go straight into "late-night anime fanservice" territory.
But as tempting as it was to enjoy this moment to its fullest, reality and self-preservation kicked in. Here's the thing: the guy whose body I'm borrowing? He was one of those classic dense protagonists. You know the type: blind to flirting, allergic to direct communication, and completely oblivious to the fact that every woman in his orbit wants to jump his little bone.
If I suddenly started acting out of character, these women might realize something's off.
And when that happens? Oh, you better believe the exorcists would come running. No way are they letting some random soul squat in their precious clueless boy's body.
Now, you might be thinking, "But wait, doesn't your soul and his fuse or something?" Nah, I dodged that bullet. All I've got are fragments of his memories a hazy snapshot of his overworked life, his untimely meeting with Truck-kun, and about a month of his adventures in this world. Lucky me, I'm still me.
So why am I rambling? To calm my little brother, who is currently saluting the morning in full glory. Can you blame me? The woman next to me decided to sleep in her birthday suit. Not that I'm complaining, but come on what would you expect from a guy who hasn't gotten any action in years?
And no, I'm not talking about this body's previous owner. That guy was a lifelong virgin. I'm talking about me, the poor schmuck who actually knows the struggle of dating and heartbreak. My last relationship ended ages ago, and let's just say the dry spell has been rough.
Anyway, after a few agonizing minutes of staring at the ceiling and willing my lower half to chill, I made a decision. I needed a plan, a strategy to navigate this absurdly trope-filled world without blowing my cover. Step one? Pretend to be the same clueless, awkward guy this body's previous owner was.
I shifted slightly, careful not to wake the woman next to me. Her arm draped over my chest tightened reflexively, and I froze. Okay, okay, no sudden moves. My gaze flicked toward her face. She had soft features, framed by messy locks of golden hair. Even in sleep, there was something regal about her.
Who is she? The fragments of memory I inherited were frustratingly incomplete, like a book with half its pages torn out. I knew her name "Lyria" and that she was part of the adventuring group this guy had joined. Beyond that? Total blank.
I took a deep breath and turned my head again toward the woman beside me. She was still sleeping peacefully, her soft breathing the only sound in the room. Damn, this really is the best worst situation ever.
"All right," I muttered under my breath. "Time to play the fool."
Her eyes fluttered open, and for a split second, I panicked. But before I could even think of an excuse, she smiled a radiant, heart-stopping smile that could have made a lesser man fall in love on the spot. "Good morning, Kaito," she murmured, her voice soft and melodic.
Kaito, huh? That must've been his name. My name now, I guess. "M-Morning," I stammered, trying to match the awkward tone this guy probably used.
Lyria giggled, propping herself up on one elbow. The sheet slipped slightly, revealing more of her smooth skin, and I had to force my gaze to stay locked on her face. Focus, man. Don't blow your cover.
"You were talking in your sleep again," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Were you dreaming about yesterday's battle?"
I blinked. Battle? Another memory fragment surfaced vague impressions of fireballs, clashing swords, and a massive wyvern screeching in pain. Oh, great. He's not just a magnet for beautiful women; he's a hero-in-training too.
"Uh, yeah," I said, scratching the back of my head. "It was... pretty intense."
She tilted her head, studying me. For a moment, I thought she'd caught on, but then her expression softened. "You were amazing out there, you know. If it weren't for you, we might not have made it."
I forced a sheepish laugh. "Just doing my part."
Lyria leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "You're too humble, Kaito." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "You don't give yourself enough credit."
And just like that, my heart started racing for entirely different reasons. This is going to be harder than I thought.
And with that, my new life in this crazy, trope-riddled world officially began.