I am Han, a 23-year-old college dropout—or at least I'm about to be. There's no way in hell I'm finishing all these assignments on time.
Han glanced at the clock. It was 11:00 p.m. Just one hour left before the deadline.
"You know what? Fuck it. I'm not finishing all this in one hour."
He opened his laptop to find something to watch.
"Oh! The final episode of One Piece is finally out! I can't believe it—I need to watch it right now!"
Han opened the drawer to grab some cup noodles. He reached in without looking, but his hand met only air. Shocked, he waved his hand around, desperately searching for the familiar cups. Finally, he looked down with dread.
The drawer was empty. Not a single cup noodle remained. One of his greatest fears had come true.
"Noooooooo!"
Tears in his eyes, he clutched his chest dramatically and declared to the empty room, "I am not watching the last episode without something to eat!"
Filled with determination, he threw on a jacket and marched to the grocery store to buy cup noodles.
He walked under a starless sky. Each step brimmed with hope, each step fueled by boundless determination. To any passerby, he looked like a man who would never compromise his principles—a man who would never, ever watch his favorite show on an empty stomach.
On the way, he passed the same traffic lights he saw every day on his commute to college. The very same traffic lights where he used to pray for Truck-kun to isekai him.
But tonight was different. Tonight, he didn't want to die. Tonight, he finally had something to live for: One Piece and cup noodles.
Then he looked at the road—and his heart dropped into his stomach.
A little girl was playing in the middle of the street.
"No no no no no—I know exactly what this is!"
He slowly turned his head. There it was. Truck-kun, barreling toward the girl at full speed.
"No no no—I don't wanna die! Do you know how much I sacrificed for this?!"
He immediately started sprinting in the opposite direction.
But then he skidded to a halt, took a deep breath, and in his head the My Hero Academia OST started blasting.
"Meddling when you don't have to… is the essence of being a hero."
He turned around and charged toward the girl, screaming at the top of his lungs:
"I AM HERE!"
He shoved the little girl out of the way and took the full impact of the truck.
His body flew through the air and slammed into the pavement. He couldn't feel his legs. He couldn't feel his arms. But for some reason… he was laughing.
Quoting My Hero Academia right before dying had always been on his bucket list.
"Damn it… I wanted to make a hundred friends before the end of high school… Wait, I'm already in college."
As his vision faded, he saw the truck driver frantically calling someone—probably an ambulance. But Han already knew it was too late. He couldn't feel any part of his body anymore, and his consciousness was slipping into a deep slumber.
Where… am I?
Han felt weightless, like he was floating in the middle of an endless ocean. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't even feel his own skin. It was as if his soul was drifting through the void.
Then, suddenly, he felt a pull—like a hole in reality perfectly shaped for him. He let it take him.
The next moment, he jolted awake, his head resting on a wooden desk.
The moment his cheek touched the surface, he knew something was wrong. He had fallen asleep… in class?
Before he could convince himself it was all a dream, he looked down at his hands.
They looked normal to anyone else, but to Han they were deeply unnerving. They weren't his hands. They felt stronger, sturdier, even though they weren't much bigger than his old ones.
One word escaped his lips.
"Reincarnation."
And the very next thought that followed:
"Will I finally get to build my own harem?!"
He whipped his head left, eyes sparkling with hope.
Every seat was filled… with boys.
A glimmer of hope remained. He turned right.
More boys. Ugly ones.
"No… please, Truck-kun, don't tell me you reincarnated me into an all-boys academy. Anything but that!"
While Han drowned in despair, the classroom door slid open. A teacher walked in a crisp suit walked in and wrote today's lesson on the board in big chalk letters:
"The History of Women's Domestication"