"You know how it feels like to cuck somebody else and see their hopeless reaction, knowing they can't even do shit about it...?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. That's the best fucking feeling ever because you feel like you're some kind of a conqueror!"
"Hi! My name is Rex Rex, and Rex almost has the resemblance of sex because I LOVEEEE sex so much that my libido was so strong until it hunted me that if I didn't have sex... I would probably die!"
"Nah, I'm just joking with y'all!"
"The truth is my parents are crackheads, so they named me Rex Rex, but I would rather call myself Rex Rexilion... the bully who gets all the women in real life through blackmail and... sweet talk."
"I've fucked countless of girls and women! AND~! The best part is they're taken, but I manage to steal them from their fucking excuse of a man who loves getting cucked."
"Well, yeah, that what happens when I get lots of power."
"But it turns out... I can't do that anymore because..."
"Wait... let the narration explain it."
Rex Rexilion died the same way he lived...stupidly...selfishly...and without any dignity.
"What the fuck—Ehh, it's the truth anyways..."
Even though his mind was fading like a dying lightbulb, he still saw the irony. This was a man who had done whatever he wanted for twenty-eight years and was finally getting what everyone said he deserved.
He died because he was too proud and couldn't keep his mouth shut, just because he thought the rules didn't apply to him.
Of course, they were right.
All of them.
Every person he had hurt, every girl whose heart he had broken for fun, and every friend he had lied to for fun. They were all completely right about him.
Rex had always been evil, and he never tried to hide it.
He could still taste the cheap whiskey lingering on his tongue and feel the impact of Michelle's boyfriend's fist crashing into his jaw. A big guy—definitely the type of linebacker.
The kind of guy who shouldn't have found Rex in bed with his girlfriend at two in the morning, but Rex had never been good at knowing what to do and what not to do.
Those words were for people who cared about what would happen.
The punch had made him fall back. He chuckled uncontrollably as blood trickled down his chin, desperately grasping for a handhold. He felt air with his hand and found the edge of the balcony with his foot.
And then he discovered gravity.
It was four stories. That was all it took to end Rex Rexilion's evil life.
It was a cowardly sacrifice and a cowardly death. A drunk jerk fell off a balcony because he couldn't stop smiling, even when someone was punching him in the face.
The fall itself was pretty dull. He thought he would see his life flash before his eyes or something, but all he heard was Michelle screaming in the distance and the strange feeling of floating in his stomach.
Like the top of a roller coaster, but this one only went down.
The effect, though. That was something different.
Pain shot through every nerve in his body, sharp and complete, and then—
Nothing.
Darkness swallowed him whole, making it hard to breathe. Rex tried to move, and do anything else, but his body was gone.
No, not gone. Just... not connected. It was as if he had unplugged his mind from reality itself.
Rex thought for a moment—maybe a second or maybe a year—if this was it.
Time didn't matter here.
The big emptiness of a void.
And yet, the game is already over for him.
There is no heaven or hell, just pure nothingness.
He thought, "Well, this is disappointing," somewhere in that darkness.
He had always thought that hell would be more fun. The kind of thing with fire, brimstone, demons, and what's the best of them all, that he thought there would be a succubus there.
In fact, he had been looking forward to it. Give him forever to cause trouble in the underworld and see how long it takes him to seduce a succubus or trick his way into running the place.
It sounded like his kind of party.
A Rexilion's party.
But this? This was just... nothing.
And Rex Rexilion hated being bored.
He tried to say, "If this is hell, I'll conquer it too," but he had no mouth, voice, or anything else.
The emptiness didn't answer. It never did.
But something changed.
At first, it was very light, like the tiniest amount of pressure on his nonexistent skin. Then it got stronger and pulled him, taking him somewhere.
He couldn't resist, even if he wanted to. But he didn't, because anything was better than floating in the void like some kind of cosmic loser.
The pull morphed into a rush, then a roar, until everything converged and the light pierced through his eyes.
Rex gasped as the cold, sharp air filled his lungs. His chest rose and fell with each breath.
His heart raced. He felt something rough and firm beneath him. And... it was just a rock. He was lying on a rock.
"What the fucking fuck...?" He croaked, and his voice didn't sound right.
It sounded younger and not the same annoying voice he used to.
He had to open his eyes even though the light was too bright, and he saw a sky he didn't know. It was gray and heavy, and the clouds looked like they were about to burst open and drown everything.
The smell in the air was strange. It smelled like wet dirt and rain, with a metallic taste that he couldn't quite place.
Rex pushed himself up on his elbows, and that's when he saw his hands, but not exactly his hands because they had a different skin color.
Yes, they were hands, but they were younger and smoother than usual.
He no longer had the scar from a broken bottle in a bar fight and the calluses from his awful guitar phase in college were gone. These hands belonged to someone in their early twenties or even younger.
"Oh wow, phew..." Rex said slowly, sitting up straight and looking at his strange fingers. "Okay now, this is different."
"My hands are so smooth, even though they're always trained to masturbate 24/7 or maybe fuck some girls."
He looked down at the rest of his body, and it was the same thing. A younger body, thinner than his old one, and clothes that looked like they had come from a Renaissance fair's discount bin.
He wore rough brown pants, a shirt with more holes than fabric, and boots that had seen better decades.
The stone under him was part of an old, cracked road that ran through what looked like farmland. There were fields on both sides, and most of them were wild and overgrown.
He could see the outline of a small, squat town in the distance. It was surrounded by a wooden wall that looked like it wouldn't be able to keep out a determined rabbit.
"Oh wow... what a cliche! A fucking fantasy world," Rex said quietly, taking in the news with the same casual acceptance he had given most things in his life.
"This is just an isekai bullshit and the reincarnation thing where you died just to get reincarnated again as the hero"
"Alright, I understood that appointment, but the different part is I won't be a hero..."
He had read enough manga on slow days at work to know the common themes. When a loser dies, they usually go to another world where they become a hero, save the kingdom, and get a harem of women who inexplicably fall for their boring personality.
Standard junk that makes wishes come true.
Rex never wanted to be a hero, and he definitely wasn't boring.
He got up to see how his new body felt. Everything went well.
Actually, it worked better. He was happy, feeling all strong.
There was no hangover, no cough from smoking, and no pain from old injuries. This body was a fresh start.
"Not bad," he said, stretching his arms over his head. "Could be worse for a new life."
What to do with it now was the question.
Rex looked around again at the empty farmland and the town far away. There was no welcoming committee.
No goddess was telling him what his big goal was. There was no helpful tutorial pop-up telling him he was the chosen one who would defeat the demon king.
He was all alone in the middle of nowhere, wearing dirty clothes, and didn't know what was going on in the world.
"Great," he said to no one. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?"
His stomach growled, which was an answer to a question he hadn't asked yet. It looks like this new body needed food.
Concerns about the here and now come before concerns about the future.
That was okay.
Rex probably could handle that.
"No, I don't. Fuck off!"
He began to walk toward the town, where people usually kept their food. The road was rough under his boots, with bumps and holes that could have broken an ankle if he wasn't careful.
He saw other things as he walked. It looked like late summer, but the air was colder than it should have been.
The fields appeared deserted in the midst of the season. And the wind carried a smell that was faint but clear.
It was cigarette smoke, like something had just burned and the ash was still settling.
"What a nice neighborhood," Rex said under his breath.
The town didn't look any better when Rex got up close. There were places where the wooden walls were burned, and the gate was crooked on its hinges.
He could see people moving around inside, but they were moving slowly and tiredly. The tiredness they exuded was a result of merely surviving.
Rex walked up to the gate, where two guards were standing. They looked less like guards and more like farmers who had been given spears and told to look scary.
One of them saw Rex coming and stood up straight, trying to look official.
"State your business," the guard said, but his voice broke in the middle.
In a second, Rex had him figured out. He was looking all young, scared, and probably never used that spear for anything more dangerous than chasing chickens.
The other guard was older, but he looked just as uncomfortable with his weapon.
"Just passing through," Rex said with the most innocent smile he could muster.
This was the guard who had rescued him from numerous situations. "Looking for work, maybe a hot meal."
The guards looked at each other. The older one looked unhappy. "Do you have any coins?"
"Not yet," Rex said. "But I'm good with my hands."
He held up his empty hands, which were clean. These people wouldn't care about hands that don't work.
The younger guard's frown got worse. "We don't need any more beggars."
"The town is barely able to feed the people it has."
Rex said, "I'm not a beggar," in a light tone. "I have a job, and I make money with it."
"Just give me a chance to show it."
Another look at each other. Rex could see that they were hesitant and that they were having a silent argument.
They wanted to send him away and it was clear enough. There was also something else there.
Maybe out of desperation. Or maybe they're just tired of having to make these kinds of choices.
Finally, the older guard let out a sigh. "Okay, okay, but if you cause any trouble, you're out, fucking out."
"Adding more problems would just make things worse."
"Got it," Rex said with a smile.
"I'll be a good citizen."