Chapter 1: A New World, Huh~
(All characters in this work are adults)
New world~
Kitahara Aoka let out a long sigh as he looked back on the years since he'd arrived in this new world. He settled into his chair, cradled a cup of green tea, and gazed into the distance.
Getting isekai'd is still something worth sighing over.
No little sister, no parents, no house—basically a complete black-household nobody. When he first woke up here as a baby, his soul was screaming, "What the hell?! Is this still Japan?! Where did you drop me?!"
But that was the truth: he was an unregistered ghost in this world. For some reason he got picked up and dumped in an orphanage, then somehow grew up.
If you zoom out and look at his life, other than the whole "transmigration" thing… nothing else was really shocking.
Kitahara Aoka—former citizen of Celestial Empire (China), reborn as a baby in this world, raised in an orphanage, now living independently.
Current status: insanely successful light-novel author, living in a house he bought with royalties, enjoying a pretty wealthy lifestyle in his new world.
Well, if you're gonna get isekai'd, you might as well live rich, right? Wouldn't it suck to transmigrate and still be broke and starving? That'd be super lame.
The only real regret: no golden finger. Shouldn't a cheat be standard issue for transmigrators? Why did he get nothing? Not even a single hair of a system?
But whatever—no cheat, no problem. His life had gone exactly the way he wanted anyway. A golden finger would just be icing on the cake.
Humming a little tune, Kitahara Aoka sat down at his computer and started today's writing session.
Song of Another World —his light novel series, three consecutive million-sellers at Dengeki Bunko. An absolute monster hit.
Yet who would guess the blood, sweat, and tears behind his debut?
Before writing this, he had seriously considered the classic "plagiarism route"—becoming an isekai porter and copying famous works. But… he couldn't. No perfect memory, no system library. Whatever he tried to copy came out as some hideous Frankenstein monster. Even he didn't want to read the garbage he produced.
So he had no choice but to write original work. After dozens of failed attempts, his heart-and-soul creation—Song of Another World—was born.
Despite the grand title, the story itself was shamelessly simple: a high-schooler gets isekai'd, awakens an "Armory" cheat, and starts living the dream with monster girls.
So why did it explode in popularity? Because Kitahara Aoka's writing was just that good. He took a bare-bones plot and turned it into vivid, memorable arcs. He boldly stuffed in his own "private stock"—roasting the absurd tropes of old-school isekai authors, exposing the dark side of medieval society, and adding sharp social commentary. Simple trash became hidden gem-tier in his hands.
That's just how the game works: add a bit of criticism + decent prose = instant "underrated masterpiece" badge.
Hidden identity arc—complete.
Now back to ordinary school life.
Second-year student at Sobu High. Completely unremarkable on the surface.
"Unremarkable" is a bit unfair—he's actually very good-looking. He just deliberately hides his shine. Who would ever guess the plain, average-grades guy with a quiet personality is secretly a million-selling light-novel titan?
Thanks to his aversion to the spotlight (and the endless hassle that comes with fame), he prefers to stay low-key. Being gawked at like a zoo animal? Hard pass.
"This kind of peaceful everyday life is what suits me best."
He typed the last line, stretched, and smiled.
Oh, right—one tiny detail: this world is a bizarre mash-up of every famous "daily life/rom-com" anime he knew from his previous life.
Why only the wholesome slice-of-life ones? No clue, but he wasn't complaining. Way better than getting dropped in Fuyuki where everything explodes, or Tengu City where spatial quakes happen daily.
Superpowers? Pass. He once dreamed of wandering the jianghu with a sword, but now he can't even kill a chicken. Hard no. He's not some hot-blooded shonen protagonist.
He packaged the finished manuscript and sent it to his editor. That bought him a full month off. Most big-name authors release a volume every three months, but to keep his touch sharp (and his wallet fat), he forced himself into a one-month cycle.
One month of rest, one month of writing—perfect balance. Readers happy, bank account happier. The rest of the industry? Suffering.
Pretty much every other light-novel author in Japan right now: "F*CK YOU, KITAHARA, YOU DAMN VOLUME DOG!!!"
Vacation time! Games, workouts, whatever—he just needed to do something fulfilling with his free time.
He booted up the computer, put on his headset, and prepared for a thrilling Apex session…
Ding-dong♪
The doorbell rang at the worst possible moment.
…Who?
That's weird.
Who visits at this hour?
Insurance salesman?
Thinking about it, did he even have anyone close enough to drop by unannounced?
Other than that super-responsible (and seemingly unmarriageable) female teacher at school… probably nobody.
He took off his headset, walked to the entrance, and peeked through the peephole to see which deity had the audacity to interrupt the apex god's carry streak.
White. Extremely white.
A snow-white scene filled his view.
Long ash-gray hair fluttering like an elf who just descended from a snowy mountain, wearing slightly dirty clothes, looking timid and vulnerable—like a small abandoned animal that had wandered to his doorstep.
Click…
The door opened.
The timid face instantly lit up with hope.
"Onii-chan… can you take me in?"