"This is real…" the ten-year-old boy muttered for what must have been the hundredth time. The words trembled on his lips as the cold bit into his skin, drawing a shiver through his small frame. His stomach twisted with hunger, and the dull ache in his body refused to fade. None of it felt like a dream. The cold, the pain, the gnawing emptiness in his belly—each sensation grounded him in a harsh certainty: he wasn't hallucinating.
Somehow, fate had returned him to the beginning, granting him the chance to live his life once more.
By all rights, everything should have been perfect. This was the dream of countless others—and he had it. Yet the beginning was merciless, colder and harsher than he had imagined, and the weight of hunger, pain, and loneliness made him quietly wish that it was all just a dream.
Three days ago, in a perfectly absurd, cliché way, he had been trudging home from work—another day as a corporate drone drowning in deadlines—when it happened. Out of nowhere… he slipped on a banana.
Yes. A banana. The kind of ridiculous accident he had spent his childhood laughing at in cartoons. There he was, fully grown, serious, stressed—and the universe decided: nope, slapstick works on adults too. His foot slid, his arms flailed like a puppet on strings, and his head collided with a gutter at the roadside. Stars danced. Pain screamed.
And then—somehow—the world blinked. When he came to, the pounding in his skull was still there, but so was a body that didn't belong to the man he had been.
He looked down at himself and froze. A young boy—about ten years old, with black hair and dark eyes—stared back at him. Malnourished. Starving. Small, fragile, and entirely unfamiliar.
For a moment, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Panic surged through him as the reality of his situation hit. He had watched countless anime, devoured endless web novels—how could he not recognize what this was?
He had enjoyed reading those stories, imagining himself in protagonist shoes. He had even thought to himself that if it was him, he'd do things differently—make smarter choices, avoid the obvious pitfalls.
But thinking about it and actually living it were two entirely different things.
He was an ordinary man, molded by society to obey, programmed to drain himself in endless corporate toil. Born ordinary, he expected to die the same—quiet, unnoticed, unremarkable.
He had never thrown a punch in his life. He had survived into his mid-twenties by being… unremarkable. Forgettable.
The kind of person people passed by without a second thought, making one thinks that spending time with him was a waste of time. Average in every way, comfortably invisible—the very embodiment of mediocrity.
Not by choice, but because he had nothing to set him apart from anyone else: no talent, no strength, no remarkable charm—nothing at all.
He realized it early. How? By trying—dabbling in this, attempting that, chasing hobbies, testing skills—hoping to find something he was good at.
The result? Utterly disappointing.
It was fun at first—he was full of excitement. But after trying this and that, the thrill quickly faded. Anticipation vanished, replaced by boredom, frustration, and a creeping sense of emptiness.
Not because it was easy—far from it. The problem was that it was too hard. He realized he would have to spend years just to get a little better, and even then, he would barely scratch the surface of understanding, let alone master anything.
That very thought terrified him. Life was short—how could he spend years struggling at something, barely improving, only to gain skills that brought little more than stress, frustration, and a constant sense of inferiority?
No, sir. He'd pass. Sure, maybe he could turn it into a living somehow, perhaps if he spent his whole life to it, but he knew himself.
Those people on the internet or in TikTok videos made it all seem so easy—effortless. A few struggles here and there, and suddenly they succeeded against all odds.
It sounded so simple, as if anyone could do it as long as they worked hard. But he knew better—real life wasn't a highlight reel. Effort alone didn't guarantee success, and for someone like him, average in every way, the odds felt impossibly stacked.
In short—how was he supposed to feel excited? He was a nobody, an utterly average person who had spent his entire life blending in, avoiding risks, and surviving by being unremarkable. He had never thrown a punch, never stood out, never achieved anything worth remembering. And now, suddenly, he had been thrust into another world—a place full of unknown dangers, impossible challenges, and expectations he couldn't even begin to meet.
Excitement? Nah…
He didn't have the luxury for that.
Panic, fear, and a sinking sense of dread were more like it.
But just as he was lost in his thoughts, a sudden rush of information flooded his mind.
Roy, ten years old, was born in a remote village in the Land of Rain. He had once known a happy family, a life full of warmth and simplicity, until famine struck. His parents, Akiko and Maki, were forced to leave the village to gather supplies to survive. They never returned.
Left alone, Roy drifted into despair. The village offered little comfort, and the harshness of life pressed down on him relentlessly. Hunger gnawed at his belly, and cold nights in the rainy land only deepened his suffering. He died young, broken by circumstances he could never control.
And yet, in a cruel twist of fate—or perhaps a mercy—he awoke again. Not the same boy he had once been, but a new one: fully conscious, aware, and just as average as ever—Roy 2.0, a nobody reborn in another world.