Chapter 1: A New Beginning in Blood and Light
Blood dripped from the ceiling, landing on Ryuchi Nakamura's face. The droplet traced down his cheek, mixing with sweat and grime before falling to the blood-soaked floor. Around him, the room was littered with corpses, their lifeless bodies contorted in grotesque poses. The air hung heavy with the stench of iron and death, the silence broken only by the distant creak of settling wood. Ryuchi stood motionless, his katana in hand, its blade still dripping crimson.
A Few Hours Earlier:
Ryuchi Nakamura, the deadliest assassin of the Black Suit Organization, entered a dimly lit office. His footsteps echoed softly against the polished floor. He was dressed in his usual attire—black tactical gear, a long coat, and a sleek katana resting against his back.
Behind the ornate desk sat a man, his face partially obscured by the glow of a single desk lamp. The man glanced up as Ryuchi entered, his tone calm but deliberate. "Sorry for your loss, Ryuchi."
The words struck a nerve. Ryuchi's usually sharp, emotionless eyes flickered with a glimmer of sorrow. He clenched his fists, his voice steady but laced with grief. "I want out. There's no reason for me to stay in this organization anymore."
The man leaned back, fingers steepled in front of him. "Out? After everything I've done for you?"
Ryuchi's gaze hardened. "I didn't ask for any of it."
The man let out a soft chuckle. "You're free to leave, of course. But there's one last task. A simple job. Do this, and you can disappear, no strings attached."
Ryuchi hesitated, his instincts warning him that nothing was ever this simple. "What's the target?"
Sliding a folded piece of paper across the desk, the man said, "You'll find all the details here. Good luck, my boy."
Ryuchi took the paper, glanced at the coordinates scrawled across it, and nodded. Without another word, he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.
The mission led him deep into a dense forest. Towering trees loomed overhead, their branches twisting together like skeletal hands, blocking out the moonlight. At the center of the clearing stood a grand mansion, its gothic architecture imposing and ominous.
Guards patrolled the perimeter, their weapons gleaming under the faint glow of lanterns. Ryuchi crouched in the shadows, his movements precise and silent. One by one, he eliminated the guards, his katana slicing through flesh with surgical precision. Blood sprayed across the grass, but not a single sound escaped their lips.
Once the exterior was clear, Ryuchi cut the mansion's power. Darkness enveloped the area, and he slipped inside like a phantom.
But his stealth was short-lived. Suddenly, floodlights snapped on, and a voice boomed, "There! He's here to kill the boss!"
Dozens of armed men swarmed, weapons drawn, but Ryuchi remained unfazed. He moved like a predator, weaving through his enemies with lethal grace. His katana danced in the air, severing limbs, slashing throats, and carving a path of destruction. Screams filled the hall as blood painted the walls and floors.
Finally, Ryuchi reached the Yakuza boss, who stood trembling behind an ornate desk. Desperation flashed in the man's eyes as he stammered, "Wait! I can pay you double—no, triple—whatever you've been offered! Just spare me!"
Ryuchi's voice was ice. "I don't need money." Without hesitation, he drove his katana through the man's chest, the blade piercing through to the back of the chair.
As the boss slumped lifelessly, Ryuchi turned to leave. But through the windows, he saw flashing red and blue lights. The mansion was surrounded.
A booming voice echoed through a loudspeaker: "Ryuchi Nakamura! This is the police! Come out with your hands up, or we will open fire! You have ten seconds to comply!"
Ryuchi scanned the room and found an escape route. But as he moved toward it, he stopped, his hand gripping his katana tightly. "What's the point?" he muttered, sinking into a chair.
Present:
The countdown ended, and gunfire erupted. Bullets riddled Ryuchi's body, the impacts sending him slumping further into the chair. His lips moved in a whisper, "I'm coming, Yumiko."
But something felt off. He couldn't feel the pain of the bullets tearing through him. Instead, there was... warmth.
When he opened his eyes, Ryuchi found himself standing in a vast, radiant hall. The floor was pristine white marble, reflecting the golden glow of the ethereal light above. At the far end of the hall sat a girl on a magnificent throne, her long, silver hair cascading down her shoulders. She radiated an aura of divinity, her sapphire-blue eyes piercing yet gentle.
"Welcome, Ryuchi Nakamura," she said with a smile, her voice soft yet commanding. "I am Celestia, Goddess of Everything."
Ryuchi's instincts kicked in. He stood tall, his eyes cold. "Am I dead?"
Celestia nodded. "Indeed. But don't worry. I didn't summon you here to punish you. Quite the opposite, actually."
Ryuchi scoffed. "Let me guess. You're here to send me to hell for all the people I've killed."
Celestia chuckled. "If I wanted to punish you, you wouldn't be standing here. No, Ryuchi, I brought you here for a different reason. I need you to go to another world and kill the Demon King."
Ryuchi's expression didn't change. "Not interested. Send me to hell."
Celestia's smile faltered. "Come now, wouldn't you like a fresh start? A world of magic and adventure? You could even build a harem if you wanted!"
Ryuchi's glare was sharp. "Not my thing."
Celestia's desperation began to show. "Please! You're special, Ryuchi. Only a select few humans have the potential to survive in that world, and the last few I sent... didn't make it."
Ryuchi crossed his arms. "Your problem, not mine."
Celestia leaned forward, her voice softening. "What if I could give you something in return? I'll rewrite reality. I'll bring your sister back to life. Alive, happy, and safe."
For the first time, Ryuchi's expression cracked. Memories of his sister—her laughter, her warmth—flashed through his mind. After a long silence, he said, "If you're lying to me, I'll find a way to kill even a goddess."
Celestia smiled. "Deal."
She raised her hand, chanting softly as golden energy surrounded Ryuchi. "Before I send you, I'll grant you Creation Magic. With it, you can create anything you need, as long as your mana allows it. Good luck, Ryuchi. Don't disappoint me."
A glowing portal opened behind him, and Ryuchi stepped through without hesitation.
Ryuchi opened his eyes to find himself in a dense forest. The air was fresh, the sunlight streaming through the canopy above.
"So, this is the magical world," he muttered. Nearby, he heard strange, wet noises. Investigating, he found a cluster of slimes bouncing lazily.
Reaching into his pocket, he found a folded letter from Celestia. Opening it, he read:
"Ryuchi! Forgot to mention—you're starting at Level 1. Work your way up! Start by killing slimes. To see your status, just say 'Status.' Good luck, champ!"
Sighing, Ryuchi muttered, "Status."
Status:
Level: 1
Mana: 100
Strength: 1
Agility: 1
Endurance: 1
Magic Skill: Creation Magic
Title: Rookie
Ranking: F
Ryuchi stared at the stats, unimpressed. "This is pathetic," he muttered.
Experimenting, he used his Creation Magic to summon a small wooden stick, which drained all his mana. "A stick? Really?" He sighed. "Guess I'll start with slimes."
After defeating a few slimes, he heard distant cries for help. Investigating, he saw a group of travelers being attacked by bandits. For a moment, he hesitated. He didn't know these people, and his stats were abysmal.
But then he clenched his fist.
" This is a second chance. I'll live differently this time."
And with that resolve‚ Ryuchi
stepped into battle‚ ready to forge a new path in this strange‚ magical world.
To be continued-