Death was supposed to be dramatic. A heroic last stand. A tearful goodbye. Maybe at least a cool explosion.
Instead, it was a rainy Tuesday night, a half-eaten cup of instant noodles, and the glowing screen of an old laptop playing the latest Dandadan episode on loop. One second I'm laughing at Okarun's cursed balls situation, the next I'm stepping outside for a smoke and—
BAM.
Headlights. Tires screeching on wet asphalt.
Truck-kun didn't even honk. Just pure, efficient cruelty.
Blackness.
Then a voice, dry as old bones and twice as bored.
"Human. Pathetic exit. Want a second round?"
Floating in nothing. No body, just awareness. A vague shape hovered ahead—less a person, more a glitch in reality with a lazy glow.
"Reincarnation?" I asked, because what else do you say when the universe offers DLC after game over.
"Call it whatever. World menu's open. Pick quick. I'm on overtime."
My brain short-circuited through every isekai I'd ever binged. Safe fantasy kingdom? Boring. Cultivation world? Too much paperwork. Then it hit me—the manic energy, the yokai vs aliens, the psychic punches, the literal ball-stealing granny.
"Dandadan," I said without hesitation. "The full chaos package. Keep my memories. And… give me something. Not broken. Just enough to not die in chapter one."
The shape laughed. It sounded like someone choking on gravel.
"Stupid choice. I like it. System granted: Echo Evolution. Starts at garbage tier. Grows only if you survive what you see. No tutorials. No pity points. Good luck, virgin."
A sharp tug in my chest—like someone installed new hardware directly into my soul.
"Drop me somewhere that isn't instant death," I added.
"Done."
The void flipped inside out.
Pain. Colors. Rebirth.
---
I woke up gasping on a futon that smelled like mothballs and faint incense.
Ceiling fan spun lazily above cracked plaster. Sunlight leaked through thin curtains, painting stripes across a small, cluttered room: school uniform hanging on the door, manga volumes stacked unevenly, an old flip phone charging on the nightstand.
I sat up too fast. Head spun. Body felt… wrong. Lighter. Younger. I looked down—high school blazer, slim hands, no calluses from years of keyboard grinding. Mirror across the room showed a face I didn't recognize: messy black hair, sharp jaw, tired eyes that looked Japanese enough to blend in. Sixteen? Seventeen? Transfer student vibes.
I focused inward, half-expecting nothing.
A quiet ping echoed in my skull. No flashy blue box. Just text floating behind my eyelids like an afterimage.
**Echo Evolution – Lv.1**
**Passive: Supernatural Sense (weak) – You feel yokai/alien residue like static on your skin.**
**Active: Echo Mimic (weak) – Observe and copy faint traces of supernatural traits you survive witnessing. Costs stamina. Fails often.**
**Current stamina: 100/100**
**Last pride status: 100%. For now.**
I stared at the mental text for a long moment.
"…You're kidding me."
The system didn't reply. It just felt smug.
I stood on shaky legs. The window overlooked a quiet suburban street in Kamigoe City—low rooftops, telephone poles, distant silhouette of that infamous tunnel everyone knows from the manga. My stomach dropped.
This was real. Not a dream. Not fanfiction. Actual Dandadan world.
A knock rattled the thin door.
"Oi, new kid! You planning to sleep through homeroom? Granny's already muttering about exorcising lazy tenants."
The voice was rough, cigarette-scarred, unmistakable.
Seiko Ayase. Momo's grandmother. The woman who could probably sense reincarnated losers from three blocks away.
I swallowed hard.
"Coming," I croaked.
Footsteps retreated down the hall.
I looked at my reflection again. Just a normal-looking transfer student. No glowing eyes. No protagonist hair. Just me, trapped in a body that hadn't even hit its growth spurt yet, with a system that basically said "copy cool shit or die trying."
And somewhere out there, Turbo Granny was probably already sniffing for fresh "pride" to collect.
I exhaled slowly.
First day in hell.
Time to not die immediately.
**End of Chapter 1**