Kakeru Dimasupil built an empire with his bare hands. From the dusty streets of Manila, hawking small goods, he had meticulously laid brick after brick, dollar after dollar, transforming a dream into one of the city's largest corporations. His success wasn't merely a testament to his sharp business acumen, but to an unwavering, almost zealous, dedication to his family. Every late night, every risky investment, every personal sacrifice, was for his younger siblings, their children, and the generations to come. At fifty-six, unmarried and without a single regret regarding the comfortable, secure lives he had forged for them, Kakeru felt a profound sense of accomplishment. His legacy was etched in the laughter of his nieces and nephews, the stability of their homes, and the countless jobs his company provided.
Yet, on a routine business flight, high above the clouds, as the cabin lurched violently and the world outside the window spun into a terrifying blur, a different thought, utterly absurd and strangely persistent, pierced through the calm acceptance of his impending end. It wasn't about deals closed or family protected. It was a fleeting, almost forgotten whisper from a younger self, a Kakeru who occasionally wondered about the truly profound mysteries of the universe, like why socks always disappeared in the dryer, or how that one pigeon in the park always seemed to know exactly when he had a croissant. The "biggest WHAT IF?" wasn't about grand adventures or lost loves; it was about the delightfully trivial, the hilariously unexamined curiosities he had always pushed aside. What if he had dedicated his sharp, corporate mind to finally deciphering the cryptic hum of his refrigerator at 3 AM? Or embarked on a valiant quest to understand the true motivations of the office cat, a creature whose silent judgment he had never quite overcome? As the plane spiraled downwards, that single, vivid question, tinged with a peculiar mix of regret and amusement, became his last conscious thought, a gentle ache amidst the chaos, a longing for a life less... predictable.
A serene, soft light embraced Kakeru, dispelling the terror of the crash. He blinked, finding himself not in a wreckage, but before a being of pure, verdant energy. The God of Earth stood before him, radiating an ancient wisdom and a gentle power that resonated deep within Kakeru's soul.
"Sir, without your unseen guidance, I could never have provided everything for my family," Kakeru began, a profound sense of gratitude washing over him. "My faith in your path, even through the struggles and challenges, kept me going. I built not just a corporation, but I helped communities, created infrastructure. Thank you."
The God of Earth smiled, a ripple of warmth passing through Kakeru. "My son, there's no need for such humility. Your achievements were born of your tireless hard work. My role was merely to illuminate your path when darkness threatened. But we are not here to dwell on the past. We are here to discuss your future, and a reward." The deity's form shimmered. "I will reincarnate you into another world. Tell me, do you have any requests before your soul journeys anew?"
Kakeru's mind, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, flashed back to a cherished, private hobby: the countless hours spent devouring isekai anime and national-building manga. A world of magic and swords… a chance to live that "what if." He snapped back to reality, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
"My apologies, Father God of Earth," Kakeru said, a genuine smile forming. "Yes, I do have a request. I wish to be transported to a world where magic and swords exist. And… if it's not too much trouble," he added, a hint of playful ambition in his tone, "could I be granted a truly unique ability?"
"Is that all, my son?" the God inquired, a knowing twinkle in their ethereal form.
"Yes, my God, that's all I ask," Kakeru confirmed, his heart thrumming with anticipation.
"Very well. Your soul shall now be transported to the planet of Magus de Swordia. May your new life be filled with the experiences you sought."
"Thank you, my God."
Kakeru's soul, like a nascent star, streaked across cosmic distances, eventually settling into the small, fragile body of a newborn on the continent of Spear. His new home was the remote, humble village of Kutsilyo, nestled precariously on the outskirts of Count Marko Von Faust's domain, under the distant rule of King Leo Von Delgado.
His new father, Kirito y Contis, the village chief, held him close, his voice thick with emotion. "Hello, my son Shouyo. Welcome to the world. I'm so happy to see you healthy." Kirito pressed a gentle kiss to the infant's forehead. His mother, Maple y Contis, daughter of the previous chief, lay weak but beaming, tears of joy tracing paths down her cheeks.
Shouyo was now part of a family: his father, Kirito, the steadfast village chief; his mother, Maple, a diligent housewife; and two older siblings, Yui, a caring twelve-year-old sister, and Setsuna, a curious five-year-old brother.
Kutsilyo was isolated. Its borders were a constant challenge, encroached upon by aggressive bandits and fearsome monsters. Aid from the distant kingdom was scarce, forcing Chief Kirito and his villagers to rely solely on their collective strength and ingenuity. Their saving grace was the Lake of De Bay to the north, a generous source of fish, providing a crucial food supply against the ever-present threat of hunger.
Life was hard, but simple. Until it wasn't.
One day, the distant sound of clanking armor became a tangible threat. A group of heavily armed mercenaries arrived. The villagers, desperate for any sign of external support, cautiously welcomed them, oblivious to the wolfish intent hidden beneath their polished steel. The mercenaries didn't bring aid; they brought exploitation. Soon after, opportunist bandits, recognizing the new power vacuum, moved their bases into Kutsilyo, turning a struggling village into a notoriously dangerous stronghold.
The King's armies, led by Count Marko, did eventually come. But their attempt to "subdue" the new threats in Kutsilyo was a dismal failure. The royal forces were routed, leaving the village in a far worse state. Kutsilyo, already neglected, was now effectively abandoned, its "independence" a cruel joke—a synonym for lawlessness and a complete lack of royal protection. Kirito remained the village chief in title only, his authority eroded by the chaotic reality. Fear gripped the villagers. Some attempted to leave, but the journey was perilous and costly, fraught with the very monsters and bandits that now plagued their home.
It was into this harsh, unforgiving world that Shouyo, the former Kakeru, was born. What kind of adventures awaited him, and what future could he possibly build amidst the ruins of a forgotten village?