At seventy-three, Kenshin Tanaka was waiting for his last breath. He knew any second could be his last.
The world he was born in had vanished fifteen years ago when the first dungeon gate tore a hole in reality.
That event redrew the map, wiping away entire countries that failed to fight the horrors spilling from them.
Now, only a handful of nations, Japan among them, still stood.
With the change came the "Chosen," people with impossible powers who became the protectors and rulers of this new world.
For an old, powerless man like Kenshin, the world was something to be survived, not lived in.
When the sirens wailed, it meant only one thing: find a place to hide and pray the dungeon would be cleared soon.
Kenshin's world had shrunk to his son's cramped apartment. He knew Kenichi and his wife, Akari, saw him as a burden.
They didn't need to say it; it was in the way they spoke around him as if he wasn't there.
He felt a deep shame, but the thought of being homeless was a greater terror, so he accepted their coldness.
His own body had betrayed him. Sleep was rare, chased away by aches settled deep in his bones. Worse was the fog that descended on his mind, making him forget names, places, and memories. He was wearing away, piece by piece.
A simple craving for ramen had felt like a rebellion tonight. He'd made the short trip to the market, the warm container a small comfort in his hands. But on the way back, the familiar street became a maze.
Panic coiled in his gut. He was lost. He walked without direction until his strength gave out.
He collapsed in a park on a patch of soft grass. He lay there and stared up at the few stars.
He saw the Chosen on the news sometimes, fighting. They were so strong. They never felt powerless. They never felt the shame of being a burden.
If I had another chance, he thought. If I had strength like them... I would be a hero. The wish was born from a simple, desperate hope to be useful.
It was his last thought as exhaustion pulled him under.
The park gardener woke him up. "Wake up. I swear, this young generation doesn't know their limits. They drink till they collapse."
He sat up with an effortless grace that shocked him. He looked at his hands. The wrinkles were gone. These were the hands of a young man.
With a mix of dread and wonder, he scrambled to his feet. His body felt light and powerful. He stumbled toward the park's public toilets, his mind reeling.
He pushed the door open, strode to the sink, and braced himself. When he finally looked in the mirror, he saw a boy of sixteen or seventeen, his eyes wide with terror and disbelief.
It was him, but a him that hadn't existed for sixty years. He stared at his impossible reflection.
As he stood frozen, a voice spoke in his head.
Now you can see your information.
Do you want to see it?
Kenshin flinched, his eyes darting around the empty toilet. "Who is that? Where are you?"
I am a smart system that will be with you for the rest of your life. My name is Infinit.
"Like something from a video game?"
After a moment of silence, the voice returned. Yes, just like a video game.
"Okay. I want to see the information."
Instantly, a white screen appeared in his vision, floating in the air before him.
He glanced at the mirror; the screen wasn't reflected in it.
On it, he saw simple, stark white text.
> Name: Kenshin Tanaka
> Level: 1