"Value exists everywhere—only those willing to look ever discover it, even in the places everyone else overlooks." Hiroki said, his gaze sweeping over shards of broken glass and the blackened remnants of the shop. "But some people just want to ruin everything… idiots." he added with a shake of his head.
"Uhh... did you have insurance, old man? This seems really bad," he asked, glancing at the elderly man sipping tea beside a window streaked with raindrops that blurred the road outside.
"I didn't have one... well, my employers didn't have one; they are very careless," the man replied, then squinted. "By the way, who are you?"
"You have been with me for the past few days and I just continued to call you James out of habit!" He added.
"Me?" Hiroki replied, carefully climbing down from the charred remains. "I'm Hiroki Tanaka. I'm a journalist for *** News Outlet."
"Ahh, that's where I've seen you! You looked familiar. My son really likes your shows!" the old man said, smiling.
"I see," Hiroki nodded.
Hiroki Tanaka is a 24 year old Journalist working for a news outlet.
He is quite popular in the field and is well known for having many talents in various things he sometimes make shows about.
"You are from Japan, aren't you?"
"Yes, I work mainly for a foreign news outlet and am not really in Japan much these days."
"I see, it's an honor to meet you, Mr. Hiroki Tanaka!"
"Likewise"
"And what might I help you with then?" the old-man asked.
"Well... I wanted to see some antiques you had here," Hiroki explained, gesturing at the ruins. "But most things have been burnt, and digging through this rubble if you don't own it... that seems like a crime."
"You are right!" The old man finished his tea, set the cup down on the counter, and handed it to Hiroki. "But... since you shared some of your green tea with me and helped me escape the fire in time, I owe you a good deal from my own collection! This is your third day, after all, since you have been helping me!"
Hiroki's eyes brightened immediately. "Really?"
"Yes," the old man chuckled. "Come with me."
They traveled to his house, far from the burned shop.
Hiroki's mouth fell slightly open as they entered. The house was unlike anything he'd seen in France, despite his month-long stay there. High ceilings twisted into strange, elegant angles, walls lined with eclectic curiosities, and a spiral staircase that seemed to defy geometry. It felt... alive.
"Well, kid," the old man said, walking to a pedestal and unveiling an object covered by cloth. "This one I'll give you."
Hiroki stepped closer. There, coiled in a mesmerizing spiral, was the ouroboros. Its body was a seamless fusion of silver and bronze, with jade, glass, and bone at the middle, all of them extending until they split into four tails that led into its mouth, and a strong bite that didn't seem like it was biting into its own tails.
"There's nothing that could top this one, I'm sure of it," Hiroki thought, awe-struck.
"How much for this, old man?" he asked.
"You can take it for free, really," the old man said.
Hiroki's eyes widened. "What? No way... I can't just—"
"Ah, but how about this?" the man interrupted. "Sign a few of my kid's belongings and spend a day with him. That's all I ask."
After a moment of thought, Hiroki agreed.
That evening, they shared a simple but fulfilling dinner together.
And the man's son was named James, it made perfect sense why he had that habit.
During the dinner, James asked Hiroki a lot of questions. Hiroki realized James might be an even bigger fan than what his father let on.
"How much time do you get for practice between the 'Special' episodes in your show?" James asked.
Hiroki answered, flustered. "Well… this might sound arrogant, but I didn't really need practice time. At most, I had two days to prepare for each episode!"
"What?!" James exclaimed, completely stunned. Even his father looked impressed.
James held up his fingers and counted. "Okay… one—you did that calligraphy tournament on camera, and you got 4th place. Two—you painted in the competition during the art special, and you got 3rd. Three—you brewed alcohol for the festival episode… and you placed 3rd. Not to mention the martial arts tournaments!"
Hiroki chuckled nervously. "Most of the things I showed in those episodes were stuff I already knew before high school ended. I always found activities like these interesting, and I had a lot of free time growing up. So… it's not that impressive."
"It is!!!" James exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "I can't even cook something decent, let alone get praised by a famous chef like you. And I haven't seen anything you can't do… except acting!"
Hiroki let out a weak, "Hey…" and the three of them burst out laughing.
The rest of the night was great-
A day later, Hiroki returned to Tokyo.
His apartment was spotless, minimalist, yet cozy: polished wooden floors, soft ambient lighting, books neatly lined on shelves, and a small bonsai on the windowsill.
"After treating himself to a proper meal that day—sautéed vegetables, brown rice, and a generous serving of wagyu—he felt satisfied."
He sat at his desk, papers spread before him, and began researching the strange artifact.
Hiroki leaned closer to the ouroboros. "It has more than one tail… about four, if we don't count the tiny one that looks like a spike," he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "And each tail has completely different characteristics."
One was a normal scaly tail, made from the same material as the head. Another was made out of literal bone and looked more like a scorpion's tail—long, curved, and entering the ouroboros' mouth. The third was that of a dragon, crafted from a mixture of bronze and gold—giving it an ancient Chinese feel.
The last was carved from black obsidian and resembled a panther's tail, but thicker, as if mixed with a serpent's structure.
He looked into the creature's mouth.
"Wait… what's this?"
Inside the ouroboros' mouth, both the upper and lower layers were made from the same materials as the tails. There were also small miniature head models representing the animals the tails were inspired by: dragon, scorpion, and panther. But the ouroboros' own head was not included.
He pulled out a light and observed the interior more closely.
He couldn't pinpoint the exact place of origin—the craftsmanship felt like a group project from multiple eras rather than one.
Without knowing the conclusion, he leaned back, thinking hard.
Six hours later, exhausted yet captivated, he muttered a single word:
"Metamorphosis."
"If there was a fish in here, it would've had its characteristics and grown another tail."
"The symbolizing I can come up with for now is that whatever it eats… it becomes."
"Or something like that."
He held his chin, thinking.
"Well… there's no such antique anywhere I've searched—not on the internet—so I don't know its value… Hmm, who should I contact?"
"I mean I can't just keep it for myself can I ?"
"I am not at that level of wealth yet that I store such a fine piece for myself!- besides the old-man wanted me to sell it, but he also told me to wait a couple of days....maybe he thought I would like it so much I won't sell it ?!" He chuckled.
A glance at the clock made him flinch. It was 3 a.m.
Sleep was unavoidable.
He decided the ouroboros must be kept safe. As he carefully placed it into a sturdy wooden box lined with velvet, a single snake-tooth corner scratched his finger.
"Ouch," he muttered, blood dotting the cloth he was given.
Shrugging it off, he closed the box and finally collapsed into bed, the ouroboros resting silently beside him.
Blink!
"Ugh… my back hurts so much," Hiroki groaned, rising from the forest floor littered with dirt and fallen leaves. He bent over, hands on his knees, brushing off debris. "I don't even know how, but memories of the past two days just flashed before my eyes… every little detail."
"It's… bizarre."
He straightened and spoke aloud, reasoning through everything. "Okay, using isekai logic… this means I was summoned because of that antique I bought from the old man. And this power I have—it's tied to it. 'Metamorphosis.' That has to be it."
He paused, forming the conclusions carefully while brushing off his chin. "From what I can tell, I can acquire the skills of monsters I kill. If there are truly no limitations… that's insanely OP. I could accumulate abilities much faster than anyone, easily— not that I have seen anyone, it is a high probability.
"But I still don't know the cost of using them. Judging from how tired I got from the distance I walked before entering the plains, it must draw from my stamina. And that potion I found? Probably restores it, or something in that is giving me the fuel to keep going on."
For now, it was the most logical explanation. The exhaustion he felt after traveling through the dungeon and fighting monsters was far greater than expected—especially for someone used to running ultra-marathons. The fatigue was on another level entirely.
There could also be a chance he in still on earth and the isekai arc is forever completed.
He straightened and looked ahead.
"What the heck…"
Several trees had been knocked to the ground, their trunks half-blasted in the middle.
He went forward and observed, if one had to recreate this look, they would need 17th century cannon balls.
Just as he pondered, he felt sharp sting ran across his back, and it finally hit him—yeah, this was all my doing!
It seems he was the cause!
If he continued walking in this direction, he would stumble upon the dungeon—or so he thought.
But there was absolutely nothing.
Why ? He obviously flew from that direction so where is it ?
He continued to investigate the scene, walking in circles around the area to see where the dungeon entrance could be.
But it all led to one conclusion: the open area, which was the size of a small basketball court, was the location or the door he had exited from, but the dungeon was now gone!
There isn't much as a door or a crack in the spaces, but he is certain, he came from this place.
He exhaled. "What am I gonna do now?"
With no dungeon in sight, he might not be able to investigate this event at all. Luckily for him, he could survive, not to mention there was probably no one waiting for him on Earth.
Maybe he was still on earth ?
To investigate a way out or to see a sign of civilization, taking a vantage point was a valid idea!
He chose the tallest tree he could see, tightened the rest his pants, and jumped straight up.
The jump was enough to get him higher than the tree, and if he hadn't been so close to it while jumping, he might have had to fall down from that height, which now, for some reason, felt terrifying.
Maybe because he has no boots!
He looked out over the dense, unending forest, a sea of green stretching to the horizon. Just as he was about to survey his surroundings, a sharp pain shot through his legs.
A small projectile—a dart of some kind—had struck him, and he plummeted from the treetop, crashing hard into the undergrowth below.
"What a lucky find!"
A voice echoed from the bushes next to his crashing point.