The apartment had a minimalist layout, but the decor and household items were clearly high-end, their quality undeniable at just a glance.
A black-haired young man sat cross-legged on a plush, cotton-soft sofa, completely absorbed in the game he was playing.
He gripped the controller tightly, fingers rapidly pressing buttons as his eyes locked onto the computer screen.
Scattered around him were numerous unbranded snack bags and several bottles of soda—staples of any self-respecting homebody.
Nagami Kazomu gritted his teeth, staring at the black-and-white game-over screen. Four blood-red characters burned into the display, making his blood pressure spike.
[Body Collapse (4x Damage)]
His hands clenched the black controller as he resisted the urge to smash it against the floor.
Disconnected at the crucial moment?!
It seemed the universe had just spared a collector's life today.
If it weren't for the cursed blade with four-times damage, a minor mistake wouldn't have cost him the entire game. After all, that weapon was a legendary item—if he could obtain it, clearing the game flawlessly would be a breeze!
Sighing, Nagami casually tossed the controller aside and slowly got up, stretching his legs, which had gone numb from sitting too long.
Once the tingling sensation subsided, he glanced out the window.
His custom-built, high-end PC was nearly silent, but in the stillness of the room, he could faintly hear its quiet hum. Without turning it off, he lazily walked to the window and pushed it open.
A cool breeze brushed against his face as he took a deep breath of the crisp night air, exhaling slowly.
Even at this late hour, the city was as bright as day.
Neon lights lined the streets, flowing endlessly like a river of color. Towering buildings glowed against the dark sky, their reflections rippling in the city's central lake. The entire metropolis pulsed with life.
Despite the nearing midnight hour, the sidewalks were still crowded with people, the flashing lights of bars and clubs illuminating figures of all shapes and sizes.
But none of this had anything to do with Nagami.
The sky was a deep, inky black, dotted with shimmering stars. The moonlight was soft and hazy, blending with the vibrant city lights.
"…What a beautiful world."
He murmured softly, his voice barely audible over the city's distant hum. The pale glow of the moon illuminated his face—a face that looked eerily blank, as if loneliness had been painted onto him.
"…What a shame."
Gazing at the endless stars, he shook his head with a faint sigh before closing the curtains and heading to the bathroom.
He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face, the chill jolting his senses back to life.
After drying off, he looked up, meeting his own reflection in the mirror.
A slender figure stared back at him, with slightly messy black hair and bright, clear eyes. His fair skin and delicate features would undoubtedly be considered handsome.
Nagami stared at his reflection, emotions swirling inside him.
Three years.
It had been three years since he arrived in this world.
Perhaps it was his natural inclination as a homebody, but he had adjusted to the idea of transmigrating surprisingly quickly. Aside from the initial headaches while getting used to his new identity, the whole ordeal didn't shock him as much as one might expect.
As a firm believer in science, Nagami knew that if something had happened, then it must be part of the universe's natural order.
Humans could only observe reality, analyze patterns, and draw conclusions.
Of course, transmigration wasn't exactly something he could replicate—at least, not with his current knowledge.
His new life came with the classic transmigrator's setup:
Orphaned. No siblings. Inherited a house.
His parents had died in a car accident. The previous owner of this body had grieved so deeply that, after crying for an entire day and night, he passed out—only to awaken as Nagami instead.
Yes, his name in this life was exactly the same as in his previous one.
And it wasn't just the name—his appearance was at least 90% similar to his past self.
That kind of coincidence made Nagami suspect that his transmigration might not have been random.
Wasn't there a theory about parallel world counterparts...?
But that was just a guess. Without more cases to analyze, he would probably never know the truth.
Unlike some transmigrators, he hadn't inherited the previous Nagami's memories. Fortunately, a personal diary had helped him piece together the original owner's personality—shy, introverted, but genuinely kind.
Nagami did feel a little guilty about taking over someone else's body.
But only a little.
What happened was beyond his control. Reality was harsh, and all he could do was accept it.
The hefty insurance payout from his parents' accident ensured he could live comfortably in this world for the foreseeable future.
As the saying went in his previous world:
"Well, I'm here now."
What else could he do?
A soft breeze lifted the curtains, rippling like waves.
He wandered back to his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed, staring blankly at the familiar ceiling.
After transmigrating, Nagami had dropped out of school—not because he didn't value education, but because middle and high school subjects were far too basic for him to bother relearning.
Financially, he was set. Using the insurance money, he had opened a café, which was doing quite well.
Occasionally, he'd write down songs from his past life, earning a decent sum that way too.
In many ways, this life was much easier than his previous one.
However, something about this world felt oddly familiar.
Nagazora City.
That name alone sent a chill down his spine.
Anyone familiar with a certain collapsing world would recognize it immediately.
At first, Nagami clung to the hope that it was just a coincidence.
After all, couldn't there be other cities named Nagazora in countless parallel worlds?
With that in mind, he rushed to his computer, typing "Honkai" into a search engine.
Good news: Nothing came up.
Bad news: He remembered that, in the game, civilians weren't aware of Honkai until disaster struck.
Even after catastrophic events like the Second Siberian Eruption or the Third Eruption in Nagazora City, most ordinary people had no clue about Honkai's existence.
Any information regarding it was tightly controlled by two major organizations:
Schicksal and Anti-Entropy—both wielding immense power, alongside government cooperation, to keep civilians in the dark.
Still, Nagami held onto a sliver of hope.
That hope shattered two days ago.
While checking on his café, the manager—who knew him very well—excitedly told him about a new hire.
A beautiful girl with snow-white hair and deep blue eyes.
Her name?
Kiana Kaslana.
Nagami's expression froze.
Mouth slightly open. Face blank. Like someone rudely awakened from a dream and immediately whacked on the head.
The manager, mistaking his shock for admiration, beamed with satisfaction.
She had found the perfect girl for the boss! Maybe if things went well, she'd even be promoted to matchmaker!
Meanwhile, Nagami sat there, staring at Kiana's hiring photo in silence.
The girl in the picture smiled as brightly as a blooming flower.
But beneath that cheerful expression, he could already sense the impending doom.
This wasn't just "boom boom boom."
This was Honkai Boom Boom Boom.
"...Sigh."
He was doomed.
Collapsing onto his bed, Nagami covered his face in despair.
Why is this world so unfair to men?!
He clenched his fists dramatically, but of course, it changed nothing.
Still, one thing gave him hope.
Most transmigrators were granted some kind of cheat ability.
And then—
[Multiversal Chat Group Loading… 99%]
Nagami blinked.
The loading bar… moved.
[100%]
Then, with a flash of white light—
[Multiversal Chat Group Activated!]