That b*tch put me in this dark tunnel… what am I supposed to do now?!
I tumbled through the void, darkness swallowing me like a cold, endless shroud. My mind raced a mile a minute.
What the hell just happened?
Was that heaven? Some cosmic tribunal?
And what was this "second life" they were talking about?
The silence stretched, broken only by the rush of air as I fell. My limbs flailed uselessly, smacking into emptiness, my stomach twisting with every second.
Finally, I landed—hard. Breath knocked out of me. The ground beneath my body was… soft. Weirdly soft. Squishy. Like… jelly? What the hell?
A blinding light shot up in front of me. After what felt like an eternity falling through nothing, I half expected a choir of angels to descend, singing some gloriously dramatic welcome.
Instead… everything blurred into a haze of burning red, and noise crashed into my ears like a violent storm. I tried to scream, but the only sound that escaped was a broken, pitiful whimper.
Muffled voices started to form words.
"Congratulations, ma'am and sir! He's a healthy boy!"
Wait… what?
Logic should have told me: Was I just born? Am I a baby now?
But no. The first thought that popped into my brain—my dirty, unfiltered brain—was:
"Did I just… come out from a…?!"
Yep. Reincarnation. Not just into a new body, but a new life as a baby. Classic.
Acceding to my situation with the professional precision of an assassin, I immediately started observing my surroundings. First observation: language.
Some miracle of fate—or maybe a cruel cosmic joke—my brain understood everything around me perfectly. No language barrier. That's a relief, because trying to decipher baby babble while people stared at me like I was insane would have been the ultimate torture.
Next: opening my eyes. Which, for the record, was hard. Even for a legendary assassin, those infant eyelids were like lead. But after what felt like an hour of blinking and squinting, the world came into view—flooded with distorted colors and shapes, like the first stars peeking through dusk: faint, wobbly, and painfully bright.
A man stood before me. I assumed doctor—but again, the term is generous. His face was… a lot. Long gray hair falling from scalp and chin, glasses thick enough to stop bullets, and somehow—he wasn't even wearing a doctor's coat. Just what is this world's medical system?!
Next, I realized: we weren't in a hospital.
No, the "room" was more like… a cult's weekend project. Stone walls, cold and unforgiving. Candles scattered across the floor like some kind of poorly thought-out ritual. Strange symbols carved or drawn across the ground, faintly glowing in the flickering candlelight.
And then… I focused on the source of my physical existence: the woman who had just shoved me out of her… tunnel.
Mother.
She was stunning. Auburn hair tied neatly into a braid resting on her shoulder. Skin pale and flawless under the candlelight. Deep violet eyes, lashes long enough to sweep across my face if she wanted. Lips soft, pink, perfect. And somehow… she radiated warmth. Love. Something I'd never felt before in my past life.
My tiny infant instincts screamed to cling to her. Is this how babies are supposed to love their mothers? Because damn, I was sold.
Then, I glanced right. The father. Idiotic grin. Teary eyes. Absolutely radiating "I have no idea what's happening but it's awesome" energy.
"Hi, Kawa-kun," he said, crouching down with a forced enthusiasm that made my brain ache. "I'm your daddy! Can you say dada? D-a D-a!"
I shot a glance at anyone else who might be witnessing this absurdity. Both my mother and the wannabe doctor were rolling their eyes.
"Honey," my mother said, scoffing, "he was just born!"
I observed the father. Somehow, in addition to being an idiot, he was elegant and sharp. Ice-blue eyes, angular jaw, high cheekbones, white hair neatly combed. Somehow attractive. And confident. Somehow he had won my mother's heart. Humans were ridiculous.
The doctor excused himself. "Please continue resting for a couple of days, Mrs. Hoshino, and if anything happens to Hoshikawa, let me know."
Hoshikawa… Star river. A fitting name for someone chosen by… something.
Weeks passed.
And holy hell, babies are useless. I had almost no control over my limbs. My fingers were useless sticks, legs flopped around, and the one thing I dreaded most… I had no control over my bodily functions. No discretion. It was a cruel reminder that this body was not mine yet.
But the bright side: mother's milk. Nutritious. Delicious. And thankfully… I wasn't formula-bound.
The cult room turned out to be my parents' bedroom. The world itself… was something stuck in the past, right? No electricity, no modern comforts. Just… a dirt-road town called Starhaven.
Oh, how I was wrong.
Mother, Liora Hoshino, shattered that hope the moment she healed a scratch on my leg—not with a bandaid, not with a kiss, but glowing hands and humming light.
Wait… magic?
Father, Renar Hoshino, was equally absurd. Handsome? Yes. Confident? Absolutely. But also hilariously chaotic. I watched him try to impress me with a small display of fire bullets and a water wall—tiny, but effective.
I waved my hands, expecting him to be unimpressed. But no, he interpreted my astonishment as awe.
"Your daddy is not only handsome, he's awesome too!" he grinned, hair swept back.
Handsomeness contested, I muttered internally. My father, though, quickly shifted. Cold, calculating. He unsheathed his legendary sword. Blue flames engulfed the blade, swirling, magical, deadly… awe-inspiring.
And then… two fire-breathing wolves—Infernox—attacked.
Father dispatched them in a clean sweep. No blood. Perfect technique. And then… he patted my tiny head.
"If you train hard, someday you'll be just like daddy, champ."
What?! He's actually encouraging me?! The audacity.
Mother slapped him, of course. Angel. Divine. My savior.
"Who says he can't beat you? He's my son!"
Father's laughter echoed. "Maybe he's not your son, hehehehe."
Mother's pan chase ensued. Absolute chaos. Mental note: never anger my mother.
Life in this world quickly became a mix of wonder, absurdity, and terror.
Weapons everywhere. Crystals still existed. Magic was real. Parents were simultaneously terrifyingly strong and embarrassingly sweet. Towns were primitive, yet teeming with danger.
Currency? Simple:
100 Copper = 1 Silver
100 Silver = 1 Gold
100 Gold = 1 Platinum
Power and wealth determined status. Soldiers and mages ran the land. Not much different from my old life—except this time, my body was weak, tiny, and utterly dependent on my parents.
And yet… I knew one thing.
I would master this new body. I would control my muscles. I would control everything, including my very first rebellion against my own biological functions.
Because in this world… the game had only just begun.