When you picture a typical teenage girl, you probably imagine someone with a bunch of friends, spending weekends at the mall, chatting about boys, and coming home to a loving family—maybe even a younger sibling to spoil.

Well, that's not me.

"I'm hoooome!" I call out, though as always, there's no response. Not like there could be.

Both my parents died in a plane crash while on a business trip overseas. 'Thanks for that, guys. Really great timing, dying when I was thirteen.'

So, yeah, I've been living alone ever since. It's peaceful, though. I don't have to worry about money because my workaholic parents left me more than I could ever spend. They were rarely home when they were alive, which forced me to grow up faster than most kids.

I learned to take care of myself early on—cooking simple meals, making sure I got my homework done, and figuring out how to navigate life without much guidance. It wasn't the most glamorous way to grow up, but it made me independent.

As for friends? Never really had any. Most girls at school didn't want to hang out with the "orphaned" kid. There was something about losing your parents that made other kids uncomfortable—like it was contagious or something. I didn't mind, honestly. I've always been more of a tomboy anyway and never had much interest in typical girly things.

I couldn't relate to their gossip about crushes or their obsession with the latest trends. It all felt trivial compared to what I'd been through.

What I did love, though, were manga, anime, and video games. Escaping into those worlds was my favorite pastime. But my real passion? Novels.

After my parents died, I threw myself into any book I could find—whether it was Xianxia with its tales of cultivation and immortality or Western-style harem fantasies with knights and monster girls.

There was something comforting about those stories—something that made me feel less alone. What can I say? A girl's gotta love her sexy monster girls, right?

I drop my school bag by the door of my modest one-bedroom apartment and head into the tiny kitchen. It's really just a stove and a fridge crammed into a corner, with barely enough counter space to chop vegetables. The cabinets are stocked with the essentials—canned goods, instant ramen, and a few spices. Cooking isn't exactly my forte, but I've gotten by.

I grab some bread from the cabinet, planning to make my usual grilled cheese—my go-to dinner at least once a week. It's easy, quick, and comforting—a bit of warmth on otherwise lonely nights.

But when I check the fridge, I realize I'm out of cheese.

"Great. Just my luck," I grumble. "I swore I had enough for this week."

The fridge, aside from being cheese-less, is depressingly empty. A half-full carton of milk, a few eggs, and a wilted bunch of green onions are all that remain. I let out a sigh.

"Guess I'll head to the store real quick," I mutter, slipping on my shoes and grabbing my wallet.

Humming a random tune from an anime, I make my way down the stairs of my apartment building. The walls are thin, and I can hear the muffled sound of someone's TV on the floor below. As I step outside, the cool evening air greets me, and I pull my jacket a little tighter around myself.

The convenience store isn't far—just a few blocks away. I've made the trip so many times that my feet practically move on autopilot. As I walk, I pull out my phone to check if my favorite novel has updated.

"Yesss! Finally!" I whisper excitedly. "The spicy scene between the protagonist and the sexy spider girl is finally here!"

Without a second thought, I tap on the new chapter and start swiping through it frantically, completely immersed in the text.

My surroundings blur into the background as I lose myself in the story—the vivid descriptions, the tension between the characters, the long-awaited moment that I'd been dying to read.

Lost in the story, I cross the street without even realizing it.

HOOOOONK—HOOOOONK!

Time seems to crawl to a halt as I look up. A white box truck barrels toward me, and in that brief moment, I lock eyes with the most generic-looking man imaginable.

He's so bland that he could pass for a cardboard cutout. He looks panicked, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

'Huh. I guess this is how I die,' I think, surprisingly calm.

'Does it really have to be the most cliché isekai death, though? Not that I'm complaining. There wasn't much keeping me here anyway.'

The next thing I know, everything shifts. My body—or maybe my soul—floats in an endless, pitch-black void, with no light in sight. It's disorienting, like being suspended in nothingness, with no sense of up or down.

I drift aimlessly, stuck with nothing but my thoughts. There's a strange kind of peace in it—a quiet that feels both comforting and unnerving.

Ok So that's it. I really died. Took long enough, though. Bleeding out on the street felt like an eternity, with all those bystanders screaming like they actually cared. I remember the sound of sirens in the distance, the feeling of cold pavement beneath me, and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

It's funny, really—how quickly everything can change. One moment, you're reading a spicy scene in your favorite novel, and the next, you're dead.

'How much longer do I have to wait here, God? Or whoever's in charge of this void?' I think, my thoughts echoing into the emptiness.

The silence stretches on, and I can't help but wonder...

The next thing I knew, blinding light flooded my vision as a large hand yanked me from the void.

As my eyes adjusted, I began to make out my surroundings. The room was cozy but cluttered—shelves packed with everything from dense textbooks to colorful manga lined the walls. At the center stood a large wooden desk, the kind you'd find in a sleek office back on Earth.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I had a few other matters to deal with first," said a woman seated behind the desk, looking up from a pile of papers.

I blinked at her in disbelief. She looked… so normal. Just a regular woman. Average, at best. She seemed to be Asian, with straight black hair, fair skin, and—if anything stood out—it was the fact that her chest sported DD-cup breasts.

She wore a crisp white button-up under a fitted suit jacket, paired with black slacks.

"Uh… I thought you'd look, you know… different?" I ventured.

"More divine? Yeah, I get that a lot," she said with a small smile.

"This form just makes people more comfortable, and honestly, I like it."

"So, God's a woman. Neat. What's your name then?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though my brain was still catching up.

She chuckled, a genuine laugh that was surprisingly warm. "What an interesting reaction! I like you already. My name is Niva. I'm the goddess of the world you know as Earth."

I crossed my arms. "Alright, Goddess Niva, mind telling me why you had to kill me with Truck-kun right before I got to the good part of my novel?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "About that... Despite what people think, Truck-kun has a mind of his own. He's more trouble than you can imagine. I'm really sorry about how that went down."

I shrugged. "Eh, don't sweat it. Honestly, I didn't have much tying me to Earth after my parents died. Books, anime, and manga were pretty much all I cared about. I just hope this isn't, you know, the end."

She smiled softly. "No, it's not over. But I can't send you back to Earth."

She leaned forward, her expression brightening. "What I can do, however, is offer you a fresh start—on a new world under my care."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Okay, that sounds like it's right up my alley. So, what's this new world like?"

"The world is called Numira. It's home to a wide variety of races—elves, dwarves, demons, angels, beastkin, and more. At first, it might seem like a typical fantasy world. But there's a twist: the power of bonding. Any humanoid race can form a bond with a monster, creating a unique connection between them," Niva explained with a glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

"That sounds like a dream come true," I said, my heart racing at the possibilities. "But… is everything peaceful there? Do monsters and people get along because of these bonds?"

Niva smirked. "Not exactly. But you'll figure out why soon enough—telling you now would ruin half the fun."

I grinned. "I'm so in." Inwardly, I was doing backflips. This was my shot at living the ultimate fantasy: a life filled with adventure, magic, and maybe even a monster girl harem.

"Not so fast," Niva interrupted, raising a hand.

"Before I send you off, you need to decide on a few things—like what race and gender you'd like to be."

'Right, that makes sense,' I thought, rubbing my chin. I didn't need long to decide, though—I already knew exactly what I wanted.

"Okay, this might be a bit of a long shot," I said, "but can I be an Amazonian-High Elf? A hybrid between an Amazoness and a High Elf."

Niva raised her eyebrows, clearly intrigued. "That's an interesting pick. I love the creativity! Of course, I can make that happen. Do you have a preference for being born into a high-ranking family?"

I shook my head. "Not really. As long as they care about me, that's all I need," I said sincerely, realizing how much I missed having a real family.

"Perfect! I know just the place for you." Niva smiled warmly.

"Now, do you want to be born into your new life, or would you prefer to transmigrate into an older body?"

"Born," I answered without hesitation.

"I want to live through every moment, so I can truly understand and care for my new home."

"Got it," she nodded.

"One more thing—would you like a system to help you along the way? It's the least I can do after, you know… accidentally getting you killed." Niva offered with an apologetic smile.

"Absolutely not!" I said firmly.

"I hate those generic isekai characters who rely on systems as a crutch. I want to work for everything I earn."

Niva blinked in surprise, then chuckled. "Well, I didn't expect you to be so adamant, but I respect it. Is there anything else I can do for you before I send you on your way?"

I smirked. "Actually, there is. I want to be a futa."