Haruto Aizawa considered himself average in every way. At thirty-seven, he was unmarried, had no kids, and lived in a small, cluttered apartment where the only decorations were empty takeout boxes and stacks of manga he never found the time to read. His life revolved around work: long hours at a construction firm where projects bled into each other until the months themselves blurred.
He wasn't unhappy, exactly. Just… tired.
"Another overtime night, huh," he muttered as he walked home in the chilly evening air. Streetlights buzzed above him, and his junior coworker, Kenta, trailed beside him, chatting about weekend plans. Haruto only half-listened, secretly envying his coworker's youthful energy.
Then it happened.
A scream cut through the night, sharp and panicked. From the corner of his vision, Haruto saw a man in ragged clothes sprinting toward them—knife in hand.
"Get out of the way!" Haruto barked, shoving Kenta aside. The blade found him instead, hot and burning as it sank into his abdomen. His breath hitched. Pain lanced through him, sharper than anything he had ever felt, and yet—oddly—it dulled just as quickly, replaced by a strange warmth spreading through his body.
His legs gave out, and the city blurred.
So this is how I go… stabbed in the street like some extra in a crime drama?
Blood pooled around him. Kenta's frantic voice was fading into the distance.
Then, he heard it.
"Acquired Skill: Pain Nullification"
"Acquired Skill: Hemorrhage Resistance"
"Acquired Skill: Thermal Resistance"
"…Huh?" Haruto thought weakly. Is this… some kind of hallucination?
"Conditions met. Unique Skill: Predator unlocked."
The mechanical voice was flat, devoid of emotion, yet oddly comforting as the world grew darker.
Predator? Like some kind of monster skill? Haruto wanted to laugh, but his body refused.
The voice kept speaking, calm and unwavering, even as his heartbeat slowed.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
When Haruto opened his eyes again—or rather, when awareness returned—he knew instantly that something was wrong.
There was no stabbing pain, no burning wound, no body at all. Instead, he felt… strange. Weightless, yet heavy. His sense of self was intact, but everything else was alien.
"…Where am I?" he tried to say, but his voice came out as a strange bubbling gurgle.
He panicked. He tried to move his arms—nothing. His legs—nothing. Instead, his entire body squished and stretched like jelly.
"What the hell—?!"
Slowly, he realized what he was seeing. The ground wasn't paved concrete but rough stone, wet with moss. Light filtered through cracks above, casting a dim glow across cavern walls. He was lying in some kind of cave.
Or rather… oozing.
His focus shifted downward. His body wasn't flesh or bone but a translucent, wobbling mass.
"…No way. No freaking way. I'm… a blob?!"
As if to answer his question, the voice returned.
"Confirmed. Race: Slime."
Haruto froze. His new jellylike form trembled violently. "A slime? Seriously? Like the weakest trash mob in every RPG? Not a dragon, not a hero—nope, I get the bottom of the food chain!"
He squirmed angrily, only to accidentally roll forward and bump into a patch of grass growing from a crack in the stone. The blade of grass vanished into his body with a plop.
Startled, he waited—then suddenly, he understood it. Its structure, its taste, its properties. The knowledge filled his mind instantly.
"Skill Acquired: Absorption"
"Skill Acquired: Analysis"
"…Wait a second. I just… ate that without chewing. And now I know what it is?"
He squelched around in confusion, bumping into rocks, puddles, and even a small insect. Each time, the same thing happened—the object was sucked into his body, broken down, and added to some strange internal storage he hadn't realized existed.
"Skill Acquired: Predator — Active"
Predator again? Haruto blinked—or would have, if he had eyes. "So I can just… eat things, analyze them, and store them? That's actually kind of broken…"
For a while, he experimented. He rolled around, absorbing moss, stones, even an unlucky frog. Each time, the voice explained in its monotone what he had gained. He was still a slime, but he wasn't helpless.
Eventually, he gathered the courage to speak. "Hey… voice. What exactly are you?"
The reply came immediately.
"I am the Ethereal Guide. I exist to aid your survival."
"Ethereal Guide, huh? Like some kind of in-game AI assistant? Alright, Guide, then answer me this—am I dead?"
"Correct. Haruto Aizawa perished in his previous world."
"Reincarnation successful. Current body: Slime. Designation: Luminus Aether."
"…Luminus Aether?" Haruto repeated. "That's my new name? Sounds cool enough, I guess. Better than 'Slime #42.'"
For a long moment, he stayed still, letting the reality settle. He had died. He had been reborn. He wasn't human anymore—he was a slime. The weakest of the weak, a joke monster. And yet…
As he bounced experimentally, rolling forward in his new squishy body, he couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement.
"Alright then," he muttered, his gurgly voice echoing in the cave. "If this is my second life, I'll make the best of it. Even if I have to start from the bottom as a blob."
Thus began the new life of Haruto Aizawa—now Luminus Aether, the slime with a destiny far greater than he could imagine.