If I'm not the Chosen One, then who the hell is?!
[Confirmation complete.]
[Abilities activated...]
[Interface loading...]
[Host: Iruma]
[Race: OAA (Classification: Undefined)]
[Rank: Above All Existence (Limit: Unmeasurable)]
[Mana: Infinite]
[Skills: Omnipotence (Reality bends to your will), Divine Decree (Your word becomes law), Dimensional Shift (Free travel between worlds)]
[Wings: Fallen Six-Winged Angel (Speed: Limitless | Form: Customizable)]
Iruma stared at the glowing golden system panel.
...What the actual hell...
He blinked hard, thinking maybe it was some kind of dream-induced hallucination.
SMACK.
He slapped himself—hard.
Nope. This was real.
And it wasn't just real—it was ridiculously overpowered.
So... I'm basically God now?
He couldn't help but laugh.
In the original story, Iruma was a pushover at first—bullied, underestimated, constantly in danger.
But with this kind of power? I could sneeze and wipe out the entire Netherworld.
"Hey, system," he said carefully, "can you tone this down a bit? Just... limit my power to the highest this world can handle."
[Understood. Power restriction applied.]
The moment the system responded, Iruma felt a shift in his body—like someone had thrown a limiter on a firehose. A cosmic pressure valve locking him down.
He could still feel the incredible power beneath the surface, but it was... capped. For now.
Fair enough. Wouldn't want to accidentally destroy the planet trying to stretch.
Then came the screaming.
"WOOOOOOOOOO!"
Iruma bounced around the room like a caffeinated monkey, fists pumping in the air.
Who wouldn't go nuts after seeing a god-tier panel like that?!
Other transmigrators get lame starter systems and have to grind for power like peasants. Me? I start at the top.
Still grinning, he dashed to the mirror...
And froze.
Wait... what happened to my body?!
The reflection staring back at him wasn't the skinny, awkward Iruma from earlier.
Now? He was tall. Built. Dangerous-looking. His sleepwear had morphed into a sleek black ensemble, and his long black hair was tied back neatly.
And that face...
Sharp eyes. High cheekbones. A smirk that screamed alpha demon protagonist. He looked like he'd walked straight out of a high-budget fantasy anime.
Even his blue hair had turned jet black.
Okay... no demon horns, but honestly? Who cares?!
His height wasn't exaggerated—just a bit taller than Ameri, if he had to guess.
"Damn," he whispered, admiring himself. "I look good."
And then his gaze drifted to the system's last note: Fallen Six-Winged Angel.
Let's try it... Wings, activate!
WHOOSH!
Six enormous black wings burst from his back, knocking over half the furniture in the room. Each feather shimmered with red light, and just flapping them stirred up a violent gust of wind.
They weren't just cool.
They were majestic.
There was only one word in his mind.
"Dope."
No—two words.
"Seriously dope."
Actually—three:
"Absurdly freaking dope!"
Okay, wings off. This room's too small for a flex this big.
As he retracted them, he looked around. The place was trashed. Furniture flipped, vases broken, curtains tangled.
"Restore," he muttered casually.
WHISH.
In a blink, the room returned to perfect order. The bed fluffed itself. Broken glass reassembled. Everything returned to its original state—like nothing had ever happened.
Even Iruma was stunned.
"System, you're... the real deal, huh?"
[We deliver only top-tier experiences.][Your satisfaction is our mission.]
He chuckled—then froze again, suddenly realizing a massive flaw in his glorious transformation.
Wait a sec. If I show up to breakfast looking like this, there's no way Sullivan won't notice!
"System! What do I do about Grandpa Sullivan?!"
[As long as you believe it makes sense, your changes will always appear reasonable to others.]
Mind perception manipulation?! This system's OP in every sense of the word...
Iruma sighed, but couldn't stop smiling.
Sorry, Grandpa Sullivan. Opera. You're just gonna have to roll with it.
Later that night, he crawled into bed—his new, upgraded form fitting the mattress perfectly. He stretched, yawned, and let the blissful exhaustion take over.
He slept like a king.