Tokyo never really sleeps. Its trains never stop. The streetlights always stay lit, even when no one is looking. In a city like this, the world keeps spinning with or without you.
My name was Ren.
I was thirty-three.
I worked for the city's Welfare Department.
And I was dying.
My apartment was five stops from Ueno. The walls were thin. The lights flickered. The kettle had a permanent mineral stain I could never scrub clean. On most nights, I worked late filling out reports no one would read, proposing programs no one would fund.
During the day, I was a social worker.
At night, I was a dungeon lord.
Not a real one, of course. But in my old handheld console, I spent hours building monster teams, leveling them up, and evolving them into something stronger. A blue-furred bat beast. A horned ogre with a claymore. A tiny spider with fire legs. I knew all their stats. Their evolutions. Their weird food preferences.
It started as stress relief. Then it became a sanctuary.Games didn't judge.Games didn't die in the streets.
The kids at the shelters liked them too.
We'd sometimes share stories. Make up our own monsters.
"Ren-san, if I were a boss monster, I'd live in a volcano!" Hana once said, eyes glowing.
Hana… She was eight. Thin. Quiet. She always wore a scarf, even in summer. Her mother was gone. Her grandfather too old to care for her. She was one of the children in my protection roster.
Every Friday, I bought her a chocolate melonpan from the bakery near the station. She said the chocolate bits looked like slimes trying to escape.
It was a little ritual. Something small. But it felt like something real.
Then came the diagnosis.
Stage four lymphoma.
Spreading fast.
The doctor was kind. Too kind.
He said there were treatments. That I could hold on.
But deep down, I already knew.
I didn't tell anyone. Not Hana. Not my sister.Instead, I kept working.
I fought the same uphill battle I always had — trying to push for better food funding, permanent shelter approvals, mental health services. No one listened.
"Too idealistic, Ren-san."
"Let's be practical, Ren-san."
"We can't help everyone."
That night, the rain wouldn't stop.
Tokyo was soaked in that heavy drizzle that makes the world feel blurry. I bought two melonpans anyway. One for me. One for Hana.
She wasn't there. No light in the shelter window. No feet dangling from the railing.
So I sat alone.
A plastic bag in one hand, the other curled around a steaming bun.
I thought about all the monsters I raised in that little pixel world. All the ones I'd caught and trained. Every one of them had started small. Weak. Pitiful.But I'd helped them grow.
They evolved.
Changed.
Overcame.
And yet, me? I'd be gone by morning.
No evolution. No second form. Just… the end.
I died sometime in my sleep. No pain. No last words.Just a light, fading flicker.
They said I collapsed at my desk.
The heater still running.
My last case file still open.
Two melon pans going stale on the kotatsu.
That should've been it.
But then I opened my eyes.
And everything was wet. Heavy. Wrong.
My body didn't move like it should.
There were no fingers.
No hands.
Just segments. A soft body.I felt mud. Water. Leaves. Something brushing past my side.
And then—
[New Life Detected]
[Initializing Instinct Layer...]
[Species: Larva (Unclassified)]
[Skill Gained: Basic Hunger Lv.1]
[Welcome to the Dungeon.]
I stared. Or I think I did.Because somehow, even without eyes, I could see.
Worms. Dozens of them. Crawling. Feeding on damp leaves and tiny white roots near a glowing spring.
I was… one of them?
…
Okay.Deep breaths.Let's not panic.I've played harder openings than this.
Wait. What's that smell?
My stomach turned — or pulsed — or… whatever a larva's stomach does.
I dragged myself to the nearest leaf and took a bite.
[Hunger satisfied.]
[+1 Leaf consumed. Contains: Minor Healing Property]
[Skill Gained: Digestive Adaptation Lv.1]
…
Alright.
This might be a nightmare.
Or a new start.
Either way...
If this is a dungeon,Then I guess I'm playing again.
And this time, I'll evolve too.