Jethro hunched forward in his computer chair like a sniper waiting for the perfect shot, except his prey wasn't an enemy soldier, it was the next episode of One Piece.
His foot tapped impatiently against the carpet. His eyes kept darting to the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen.
Do not misunderstand. Jethro was not waiting for a deadline, a meeting or a girlfriend's call. No, those things belonged to other people's lives.
He was waiting for something far more sacred, the new episode of Peak Fiction.
A certain group of people might have called him a "cartoon watcher" but Jethro had long since decided that their opinions were irrelevant.
People now on the internet were always talking about the "New Big Three" Demon Slayer, My Hero Academia, and Jujutsu Kaisen but to Jethro, there was no contest.
All other anime were planets orbiting the sun and that sun was Luffy's straw hat.
He leaned back in his chair with a smug little smile, thinking about what the leaks had said: [Episode 1139 would have a new opening sequence and massive spoilers for anime watchers only.]
His Twitter timeline had been a minefield all morning, but he didn't care. Spoilers meant hype.
Jethro was a university student in America, which sounded more exciting than it was. His academic career so far was a mess of skipped lectures, energy drinks and essays finished at 3 a.m.
He had no girlfriend, not for lack of attractiveness, but for lack of... well, leaving his apartment.
He wasn't bad-looking: black hair that never quite behaved, brown eyes that could look sharp when he actually got sleep and a lean frame that came from eating instant foods instead of actual meals.
His social life consisted mainly of dodging invitations from his best friends, who had all formed their own theory about what he did at home alone for hours.
None of them were correct, but their suspicions had been enough for them to once "investigate" by sneaking into his apartment.
The result? They'd left with bright red handprints across their cheeks after being caught spying on Jethro as he booted up his PC, opened Cr*nchyr*ll and passionately sang along to the One Piece opening at full volume.
He'd made no apologies.
Now, Episode 1139 was about to drop.
Jethro's eyes flicked from the clock to the refresh button. One minute. Thirty seconds. Ten-
Click.
And then:
500 Internal Server Error.
The world froze.
"No. No no no no no no-" He clicked refresh again. Same error. Again. Still broken.
"CR*NCHYR*LL, YOU USELESS EXCUSE FOR A STREAMING SERVICE!"
The summer heat pressed in like a suffocating blanket.
His irritation boiled over.
Without thinking, Jethro slammed his fist forward.
His knuckles struck the monitor dead center, the screen caving inward with a sickening crack.
Sparks leapt from the shattered electronics, snapping across his skin.
His muscles seized. Electricity surged into his veins, white-hot and blinding.
He tried to shout again but his throat locked up and the last thing he managed before the light consumed him was:
"SCREW! YOU! CR*NCHYRO-!"
---
Ashvale, The Dominion of Redreach – Ruled by Emperor Thaddeus Crowe III
The western frontier was a wild, lawless stretch of ancient forest where monsters roamed like wolves through tall grass.
The air was damp and heavy, alive with the hum of unseen wings and the distant cries of predators. Here, wealth and death walked hand in hand.
A single high tier magical beast could make an adventurer rich beyond measure... or end them before they could draw their sword.
A narrow stream wound its way through the undergrowth, glittering in the sunlight that broke through the towering canopy.
Beside that stream, a boy of about fifteen lay sprawled in the grass.
His clothes, velvet tunic, fine leather boots, were far too fine for this place.
His hair, a dark chestnut, fell in soft waves over a face that could have been carved by an overly romantic sculptor, high cheekbones, sharp jawline and eyes the color of storm clouds.
His eyelids trembled. He inhaled sharply and his eyes fluttered open.
"...Where am I? Did I... die?"
He sat up slowly, scanning his surroundings.
Enormous trees with trunks wide enough to hide a wagon behind, moss-covered stones and vines so thick they hung like ropes from the branches above.
Then the pain hit.
"Ahhh-!" He clutched his head as a torrent of memories crashed into him, memories that weren't his.
He saw halls of black stone, banners of crimson silk and a manor's cold-eyed master.
He saw his own fac, this body's face, smiling in defiance as guards dragged him through a courtyard.
When it was over, he let out a bitter laugh.
"Ashvale... the Dominion of Redreach. Blackthorn Clan. Servant." He shook his head. "To think I transmigrated..."
The story pieced itself together in his mind.
This body had belonged to a servant of the Blackthorn Clan, one of the empire's great houses.
Handsome to the point of danger, he'd drawn the eye of women high and low.
That beauty had also earned him the envy of Elias Blackthorn, the clan's eldest son.
Elias had destroyed his magic veins in a fit of jealousy, ending any hope of him becoming a mage.
Yesterday, Lilith Redwater, the daughter of another great clan, had visited her fiancé Elias.
In an act of suicidal boldness, the servant had seduced her... in Elias's own bedroom.
They'd been caught in the act.
Elias had flown into a rage, ordered him beaten and tossed his body into this monster filled forest.
Jethro, now truly Jethro Blackthor in all but name, couldn't decide if the boy whose life he'd inherited was a complete fool or an absolute legend.
He was still pondering this when his stomach growled, loud enough to scare a bird from a nearby branch.
"Guess that answers what I need first."
He wandered toward a nearby apple tree, its branches heavy with ripe, red fruit.
Reaching up, he plucked one and sank his teeth into it. Sweet juice ran down his chin-
Ding!
A mechanical voice rang in his mind.
"Found... a... host..."
Jethro froze, mid bite.