"SON OF A B*TCH! IT BURNS!"
"MY LUNGS! I CAN'T BREATHE!"
With a face twisted in agony, blood leaking from both of the corners of his mouth, Riku Sato clutched his shredded side while collapsing into a freezing puddle.
The flashing neon lights of Tokyo reflected in the red, stained water and dancing around his dying body like spirits mocking his choices up to this point.
His gasps echoed through the narrow alleyway, punctuated by the rhythmic, heavy thud-thud of a silenced pistol firing nearby.
On the ground, a trail of dark, crimson blood painted a grisly path from the warehouse doors to the gutter where he now lay. Above him, the financial district's skyscrapers loomed like jagged shark teeth, their tops lost in the oppressive, cloud filled sky that were currently dumping a deluge of ice-cold rain onto the city.
The rain didn't just wash away the dirt; it highlighted the sheer carnage of the scene.
SLAM!
Riku's desperate crawling was cut short as his head collided with a rusted metal dumpster. If his vision wasn't swimming in a hazy red fog of pain, he would have seen the lifeless eyes of his driver, Eric, staring back at him from the shadows.
Eric, his only friend in this hellscape of a life, was currently leaning against a stack of crates with a hole the size of a yen coin punched through his forehead. Just moments ago, he had been laughing about retirement. Now, he was just another piece of meat waiting for the coroner's bag.
POW! POW!
Two more bullets sparked against the brick wall inches above Riku's head, showering him in red dust and stone chips.
"Riku? Still alive? I made sure to hit the sweet spots, I don't know why you are here, still crawling."
"You've always been a stubborn dog, Riku."
A voice, calm and melodic with a sharp tongue, cut through the sound of the rain. It was Yan Li. The Triad kingpin stepped out of the warehouse, his suit looking utterly immaculate. In his hand, he held a sleek, black suppressor attachment style pistol. He looked down at Riku with the same bored expression a man might give to a cockroach that refused to die after the first stomp.
To understand why a veteran Yakuza member like Riku; the "Iron Dragon" of the Tojo Clan was currently dying like a stray dog in a filthy alleyway, one must first understand the events that led to this point in time.
…
Three hours earlier, Riku sat in the back of a black Nissan, rolling a cigarette between his fingers. He wasn't thinking about violence, like he usually does. He was thinking about the ocean. Just a few weeks before, he took a holiday to Cuba, and had never been outside of Japan prior. That holiday sparked something in Riku that made him mull over his life choices and made him want to put everything down. Everything he built for himself, to search for something greater. The approval of the underworld no longer had the grip on him it once had.
After ten years of breaking bones, collecting debts, and burying bodies, he had finally made a deal. One last exchange to finish him off. And he could finally leave. Five hundred million yen in high grade product for the Triads, and in return, the Oyabun would let him walk. A clean exit was his plan so there were no fingers lost and no blood shed. Or so he thought.
He had spent his entire life being the weapon. He was the one the Tojo clan sent when negotiations failed. He wasn't a leader; he was a tool. A highly efficient, terrifyingly calm tool. But even tools get tired eventually.
"After tonight, I'm out, Eric. I'm serious about it" Riku had said, staring at the bright neon lights.
"You're a dreamer, Riku," Eric replied with a smirk. "Men like us don't retire. We just stop moving."
"I was promised, I'm getting old, Eric. It's not a matter of moving, but finally resting."
"Something's changed in you. Did the CIA get you in Cuba?!" Eric busted out laughing with the last line. "You've got everything you want in Japan. Don't start getting greedy now. It's not too late to change your mind"
When they reached the warehouse, everything seemed perfect. The Triads were punctual. The money was all there. The product was pure. But just as the briefcases were being swapped, the world turned into a meat grinder. The lights didn't just go out; they were shattered by a hail of gunfire. Liquidation began. The Oyabun had never intended to let Riku go. Why let a master assassin retire when you can sell his blood stained hands to the Triads to cement a new alliance?
In the chaos, Eric had taken a bullet to the brain before he could even draw his piece. Riku had managed to dive through a side door, but not before two 9mm rounds found their home in his gut and shoulder.
…
Back in the present, Riku's consciousness was fading. The burning in his side had turned into a dull, icy numbness.
"You know," Yan Li said, tilting his head as he stood over Riku. "The Oyabun said you were the best. But look at you now. Crying in the mud. It's almost… disappointing. Your fire vanished. You didn't bring back up with you? You didn't check the area? Nothing!"
Riku looked up, his teeth stained red. He didn't beg. He didn't scream. He just stared at Yan Li with eyes that had already seen the bottom of hell.
"Go… to hell," Riku wheezed. "This life is fucking pointless anyway, we are the cockroaches of society. I hope you enjoy being King Cockroach"
Yan Li laughed, a sharp, cold sound. "Wise words for a dead man. I'll see you there soon enough, Dragon."
He raised the pistol, aiming it directly between Riku's eyes.
"But for now, thank you for the five hundred million. It was a pleasure doing business."
POW!
The final bullet didn't hurt. It was just a sudden, jarring impact, like a spark flying out of fire. The world didn't go black immediately. First, it turned white. Then, a strange, crystalline blue.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING…]
Riku's soul felt like it was being squeezed through a high-pressure hose. The alleyway, the rain, and the stinging smell of gunpowder vanished, replaced by a vast, endless void of shifting geometric shapes and colours.
"WHAT THE F*CK IS HAPPENING?!" Riku's consciousness screamed. He had no body, no mouth, and no gut-wound, yet the sensation of being torn apart was ten times worse than the bullets.
Suddenly, a woman's voice that was resonant and utterly devoid of emotion echoed through his vanishing consciousness.
[Soul Integrity: 99%][Karma Rating: -4,500 (Massive Debt Detected)][Status: Deceased]
"Am I in hell? I jinxed myself, I should have kept my mouth quiet with Li" Riku thought, his spirit flickering like a candle in a hurricane.
[Negative] the voice replied. [You are in the Transmigration Lobby. Due to your high Willpower and your 'Iron Dragon' soul-form, you have been selected for a Tier-2 Reincarnation Test.]
[Processing World: Aselguard…][Processing Race: Dwarf (High Mountain)…]
"Wait, Dwarf? What do you mean Dwarf?! I was six feet tall!" Riku tried to fight back, but it was like a toddler trying to stop a tidal wave.
[Penalty Applied: Penance of the Pacifist.][Restriction: Damage output blunted.]
[Desc: Cannot take enemies below 25% Health unless the system permits.]
"WHAT?! STOP! YOU CAN'T—"
[Integration Complete. Good luck, Little Dragon. Try not to die in the first year.]
Before Riku could process the insult, a massive, invisible hand seemed to shove him downward. He fell through layers of clouds, through molten rock, and through veins of solid gold until a loud
CRASH!
"MY HEAD! MY DAMN HEAD!"
Riku's eyes snapped open. He wasn't in an alley. He wasn't in the void. He was in total, suffocating darkness.
He tried to sit up and immediately slammed his forehead into a solid wooden plank. The impact was so loud it sounded like a mallet hitting a drum.
"Where… where am I?" he groaned. His voice was different. It was deep. Thick. It sounded like two boulders grinding together.
He reached out his hands, but they felt wrong. They were wide, hairy, and his fingers were as muscular as sausages. He tried to move his legs, but they were hilariously short. He felt like he had been stuffed into a suit of armor three sizes too small.
He felt around his surroundings. Smooth wood on all sides. A hanging fabric. The smell of cedar and mothballs.
"A wardrobe? Am I in a f*cking wardrobe?!"
He kicked out with his short, powerful legs.
CRACK!
The wooden doors of the wardrobe didn't just open; they exploded outward in a shower of splinters. Riku tumbled out, landing face first on a floor made of cold, polished stone.
"Oof!"
He looked up and the first thing he saw was a cat, looking at him in utter disbelief that you came out of the closet. The pair looked at each other in curiosity, until Riku burst out with glee. "Awesome! I have a cat, at least I have a buddy in hell".
He strokes it and is met with a loud purring and admiration.
System Notification: [Skill Upgrade: Animal Communication: +1]
He scrambled to his feet when the message was right in his face, the shock making his balance completely off and unsure what to say, or do. He felt incredibly heavy, his center of gravity somewhere near his knees. He looked around the room it was a workshop, filled with glowing anvils, massive hammers, and racks of weapons that looked like they belonged in a museum. But what caught his eye was a polished bronze shield hanging on the wall. He stumbled toward it, his heart hammering against a ribcage that felt twice as thick as it used to be. He looked into the waved, metal reflection and let out a strangled shriek.
"I'M A MIDGET! I'M A GOD DAMN MIDGET!"
Suddenly, a screen appeared in front of his face, pulsing with a golden light:
[Quest Log: Arc 1 - The Training Arc Begins][Objective: Find out who you are in this world.][Reward: Basic Smiting Knowledge.]
Riku stared at the screen, then at his massive, hairy hands.
"You've got to be kidding me…."