The night air was thick with the scent of ramen and rebellion as two figures sped down the highway, their bikes cutting through the darkness like blades.
Reimei Yazakura, his long black hair whipping behind him like a banner of defiance, grinned as the wind roared in his ears.
"Hey Isuma! If we hit 100 km/h, do you think we'll finally trigger our isekai event?" he shouted over the rumble of engines.
Beside him, Isuma Yazakura adjusted his glasses with one hand, the other gripping the handlebars of his sleek black motorcycle. His crimson eyes reflected the passing streetlights like smoldering embers.
"Statistically speaking, the probability is only 0.0003%. And you're going the wrong way for Truck-kun's usual route," he deadpanned.
Reimei's laugh echoed through the night. "That's why we're making our own damn isekai trigger! If Truck-kun won't come to us, we'll go to him!"
---
### Flashback: The Weebs of Hakuba Orphanage
Six-year-old Reimei kicked open the door to the orphanage's storage room, his arms overflowing with stolen manga.
"Isuma! I found the good stuff!"
The small, pale boy in the corner didn't look up from his light novel. "If it's not the new volume of Overload, I'm not interested."
"Even better!" Reimei dumped the pile with a dramatic flourish. "We've got Re:Zaro, Konobaka, AND the complete Sword At Online Progressive series!"
Isuma's crimson eyes finally flickered with interest. "...I suppose I can tolerate your existence for another day."
And so began the legendary partnership of the two bastard otaku who would one day conquer - and subsequently ruin - the Yazakura conglomerate.
---
### Present: The Isekai Moment
The black SUV came out of nowhere.
One moment they were racing toward destiny - the next, the world exploded in a symphony of screeching metal and shattering glass.
As Reimei's body tumbled through the air, his final thought wasn't fear or regret, but sheer otaku exhilaration:
"WE DID IT! TRUCK-KUN CHOSE US!"
Isuma, ever the realist, had a different final thought:
"I can't believe we're dying to a drunk driver instead of an actual truck. This is so fucking embarrassing."
Metal screamed. Bodies launched into the air—once, twice—
"We didn't even say goodbye," Isuma thought, before the darkness swallowed him whole.
---
### 1: "Wake Up, Bastards"(Reimei's POV)
There was no white light. No goddess. No grand welcome to the afterlife.
Just—
*Thud.*
Reimei as Ryo Kazehaya woke up face-first in a room that reeked of incense and old money. He groaned, pushing himself up, his hands sinking into plush carpet. "The hell?"
A mirror across the room caught his eye.
"Who the fuck—"
Reflected back at him was a stranger. Obsidian-black hair, tousled as if he'd just rolled out of bed. Steel-gray eyes, sharp and calculating beneath long lashes. A face so symmetrical it was almost unfair.
"Since when do I look like a bishounen protagonist?"
A voice, smooth and robotic, echoed in his skull:
[System Notification: Welcome, Lord Ryujin Kazehaya. Your chakra awaits.]
Ryo blinked. "The hell's a 'chakra'? Can I trade it for a damn anime waifu figure?"
---
#### 2. A Prince's Nightmare.(Noah's POV)
Meanwhile, in a kingdom of Mana—
Isuma but now:Noah Von Reinhart jolted awake, his back slamming into the headboard of a bed bigger than his old apartment. Silk sheets tangled around his legs, and the scent of frost and lavender clogged his senses.
"What kind of rich-person hell—"
His hands flew to his hair. White. Stark, snow-white.
A mirror on the wall confirmed the worst. Crimson eyes, sharp features, the aura of a prince who'd never known hardship.
"I look like an isekai villain," he muttered.
[System Notification: Prince Noah, your mana aptitude is… unstable.]
Noah stared at his palm, where a flicker of black flame sputtered and died.
"So I kept my shitty luck. Fantastic."
---