In a small apartment in City H…
*Tap tap tap
"Ah! Hah!"
"Agh!"
"You Win!"
The words flashed boldly across the computer screen. The man in front of it yanked off his headset and tossed it onto the desk, leaning back in his chair. Eyes shut, he fumbled for a pack of cigarettes on the table, lit one, and took a deep, aggressive drag.
"Phew!" He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, letting out a moan-like sigh. "A post-victory smoke really does beat being a god! Ahahaha!"
Cigarette dangling from his lips, he idly clicked his mouse. On the screen appeared a maxed-out, fully decked-out level 85 Tyrant Blood God-Slayer—a whale-tier character. The ID: Bury Them All. This was Shirou Kaisei, hailed as the Number One Berserker in the entire server.
The cigarette burned out. He flicked the butt into the ashtray with practiced ease, lit another, and turned his attention back to the screen.
"Getting kinda bored of Berserker… Heard the next patch is buffing Asura? Straight-up boosting it from trash tier to meta? Maybe I'll mess around with it for a bit." Shirou exhaled smoke rings leisurely as he spoke. Then, without hesitation, he opened the system menu, clicked "Select Character," and returned to the character screen.
Next to the golden, flashy "Berserker" stood a pitifully undergeared, shabby-looking character.
Class: Asura
Level: 25
ID: Baan
Shirou's eyebrow twitched at the name. He'd named it after Baan, one of the Four Great Weapon Masters in the *Arad Continent lore.
Clicking "Confirm," the game loaded in.
"Welcome back."
The sweet voice of Seria greeted him as usual. Shirou smirked. Yeah, no shit, 'welcome back.' This account was made around the same time as *Bury Them All, but while his Berserker had climbed to godhood, this Asura was still a pathetic level 25, not even a single cosmetic to its name.
"Might as well grab the returning player rewards first." Shirou opened the mailbox. Below the "Welcome Back Gift" was another message—one he'd never seen before.
*What, another event? Didn't hear about this.
Curious, he clicked it.
Instantly, his cursor vanished.
A progress bar appeared on the message, displaying:
"Character binding in progress…"
A bad feeling crept up Shirou's spine.
*The fuck? Is this a hack?
He'd sunk at least 20-30k RMB into this account. If it got stolen now, he was fucked. Panicking, he shook his mouse violently—but nothing happened.
"Goddammit, the fucking mouse dies NOW?!" he roared, slamming it onto the desk.
Losing control pissed him off. And right now, he was *pissed.
The progress bar crawled forward. Shirou's heart pounded. He had no idea where this mysterious message came from or why his mouse had vanished. He could only watch as the bar inched toward completion.
"Ding!"
The bar filled. The text changed:
"Character binding successful."
Just as Shirou steeled himself to investigate, the bar suddenly turned *red.
"Isekai transfer in progress…"
Shirou *jolted up from his chair.
"WHAT THE FUCK?! 'Isekai'?!"
The dread hit him like a truck. He stumbled back—
ZZZT!
A bolt of electricity shot from his PC tower, spearing straight into his forehead.
Shirou collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
Or rather… he *got isekai'd.
---
Next morning, City H Daily, front-page headline:
"Local NEET Dies from Gaming Overdose—Authorities Urge Public to Prioritize Health Over Virtual Escapism"
---
Waves lapped against the shore. The sky stretched endlessly blue, dotted with the occasional seagull cry.
A beautiful scene—if not for the *withered corpse sprawled across the sand.
Sunlight bathed the body.
Then… it *moved.
"Mmm… so warm…"
A hand lazily scratched its chest. Eyes fluttered open—
"Huh? I *felt sunlight… Why's it still dark? Where's the sun?"
Confusion set in. Then… *memory.
"The fuck?! Where am I?! I was just at home! Why do I hear waves and seagulls?! Did birds evolve to function in pitch-black darkness now?!"
Then it hit him.
Those three words before he blacked out:
"Isekai transfer in progress…"
He froze.
A full minute passed.
Then—
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"
The island echoed with *squealing like a slaughtered pig.
---
Shirou screamed for a *long time.
Admittedly, it was a great way to vent.
Eventually, he *kinda accepted it:
1. He was isekai'd.
2. He was *blind.
The second realization hit hardest.
"I'll never see another pair of tits again…"
Tears streamed down his face.
*Why didn't I bind my fucking Berserker instead of this trash Asura alt?!
More furious muttering followed.
Honestly, his meltdown was justified. If he'd logged into his Berserker, at least he'd still have eyes. Sure, they'd be bloodshot from Red Eye Syndrome, but that's still better than *full-blown cataracts!
He rubbed his aching left arm, only to feel veins coiled around muscle and claws sharp enough to gut a man.
*The Cursed Arm of a Ghostblade.
Power thrummed beneath his skin.
He clenched his fist.
*Hard.
Then stood.
"Well… since I'm here, might as well own it. Even if I went back, I'd just be that same loser NEET. Why not use this Ghostblade power to conquer this world? HAHAHAHA!"
Just as his ego peaked—
Reality *bitch-slapped him back down.
"WHERE THE FUCK AM I?!"
He was blind. He couldn't even tell where he'd been dumped.
And the fact that it took him *this long to realize that?
*Fucking pathetic.
###
T/N: We resume now.