He examined his body first, then his surroundings. The walls were made of polished hardwood, painted in a muted olive green. In the corner stood a wooden table stacked with books, a sturdy chair placed neatly beside it.
On the west side stood an old almirah, and on the east lay a simple bed. A ceiling fan turned lazily above, while a tube light was fixed to the north wall.
Dave's confusion and anxiety gradually faded, replaced by quiet acceptance. Sadness gave way to an odd joy—like finding your favorite old porn video you loved as a kid.
Dave's new life obliterated his pathetic old existence: a healthy body with no disease—and a thick, sizable dick.
He rose from the bed and made his way to the table. A worn-out notebook lay open on its surface, the name "Dave Dihhger" scrawled across the page.
"So… that's who I've become," he murmured, eyes tracing the name.
Beside the table, a tall glass window stood hidden behind heavy curtains. He reached out and drew them aside, letting the light spill into the room.
"Wow…" he breathed.
Outside, the world stretched out before him. From the second floor, he could see an asphalt road, silent and empty. In his past life, noise was everywhere—honking cars, engines roaring from dawn till dusk. But here… it was peaceful.
A few children ran northward, laughing and chasing a ball. A group of men passed by, dressed in light summer clothes, each with a sword hanging at their waist.
"Wait… those swords…" Dave whispered, narrowing his eyes.
"The handles are glowing blue. They look just like katanas from my old world. Am I… in Japan? No, impossible. Swords don't glow like that—must be magic."
He frowned slightly, lost in thought as his mind tried to piece together the strange new world he'd awakened in.
The door creaked open slowly. A woman in her mid-twenties stared at him. Dave's eyes widened—he might as well have been face-to-face with a living porn goddess.
Her body formed a perfect inverted triangle: wide hips hugged by tiny denim shorts, love handles spilling over the waistband, and heavy, spherical tits straining a black sports bra, nipples poking like they were seconds from squirting milk.
"Oh… you finally woke up, loser," she drawled.
Dave's gaze locked on those jiggling melons; words failed him.
"Hey! Earth to perv—I'm talking. Lunch is downstairs. Move before it freezes." She rolled her eyes.
As she spun away, Dave's voice cracked the silence. "Who are you… the maid?"
She whipped her head back. "Lost your brain too? I'm your step-sister, not the fucking help!"
Bare feet *SLAP-SLAP-SLAP* on the hardwood, each stride making her juicy ass *CLAP-CLAP-CLAP* like a porn soundtrack—cheeks rippling, toes curling, sweat-slick soles leaving faint prints as she stormed downstairs.
"So… I've got a step-sis now." A filthy grin spread across his face. "Wonder what step-mom's packing."
This whole life feels like the taboo I binged on in my previous life—except I'm the main character.
He opened the almirah and pulled out a plain grey T-shirt. The bottom shelves were covered in a thin layer of dust, as if untouched for years, yet the clothes themselves were spotless—freshly washed, almost like someone had cleaned them just yesterday.
After dressing, he stepped out of his room and descended the stairs. To his right stood the front door—the clear exit of the house. He turned left and walked straight ahead into a hallway lined with five wooden doors: one at the far end, two on the right, and two opposite them on the left.
He went straight to the first door and opened it. It was a kitchen. A few pans rested above the stove, still faintly warm, their aroma hinting that something delicious had just been cooked.
But before grabbing a bite, he decided to wash his face. The next door near the kitchen led to a small washroom. Inside, a mirror hung above the sink, slightly fogged at the edges.
He approached the mirror and gently touched his face with his fingertips, examining every angle. A faint line of dried drool marked the corner of his cheek, proof that he'd slept deeply.
Brown eyes. A faint double chin. Stretch marks beneath his arms. Soft flesh clinging to his chest and belly that jiggled with every step. His body looked unbalanced—imperfect.
"Still better than the one I had in my previous life," he murmured, half-smiling at his reflection. "I just need to exercise and burn off this fat."
Inside the washroom, a small shower room was attached to it, a wooden partition enclosing the space with a metal shower line fixed above.
Dave cleaned his face, brushed his teeth, and stepped back into the hallway. Directly in front of him was another door, but his gaze shifted toward the kitchen as his stomach growled in protest.
He walked in, grabbed a plate, and helped himself to a generous serving of pork curry, rice, salad, pickles, and a small dessert he found in the fridge. The dining table stood empty, four wooden chairs with soft cushions neatly arranged around it—an easy hint that this household had four members.
Dave sat down and focused on his meal, savoring every bite. Within minutes, his plate was spotless. He carried it to the sink, washed his hands, and turned to leave.
"Ugh… mmm…" he grunted softly, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
On his right, a door he had ignored before caught his attention. Its gold knob gleamed faintly under the light. Curiosity sparked in Dave's chest as he reached for it, turned the knob, and stepped inside.
The room was painted a soft pink. A study table sat neatly in the right corner, a few books stacked on top. On the left stood a small bookshelf, and at the foot of a pink-themed bed rested a bunny-shaped pillow—clear signs of a feminine touch.
"Damn… this room smells so good," he murmured, catching the fresh, tangy scent of orange from a room freshener.
"This must be my stepsister's room… no doubt about it," he whispered under his breath.
But before he could take another step, a soft voice sounded behind him.
"Yes… and what are you doing here…?"
Dave froze, his heart skipping a beat. Panic surged through him. He straightened abruptly, slowly turning his head toward the voice—
*Bam!*
A sudden punch landed square on his face.