Rain had been falling since evening.
Not heavy. Not dramatic. Just enough to soak the streets and make the city smell old—like rust, wet stone, and regret.
He had been running for a long time.
Not because someone was chasing him.
Because stopping felt worse.
His lungs burned. His legs ached. The dark circles under his eyes weren't from lack of sleep—they were from nights spent staring at a ceiling, wondering how a life could feel finished before it even began.
Yellow streetlights blurred as he passed beneath them, each one flickering like it might give up at any moment.
Just keep moving.
That was the rule.
He turned into an older part of the city—narrow roads, cracked pavements, buildings that leaned toward each other like they were tired of standing. The rain pooled on the road, reflecting the lights in broken pieces.
Then he saw her.
A girl stood at the edge of the footpath, frozen.
School uniform. Hair tied into a messy bun. Backpack hanging from one shoulder like she hadn't even noticed it slipping. Her eyes were fixed on the road.
Headlights rushed toward her.
Too fast.
She didn't move.
For a split second, he hesitated.
He didn't know her.
She wasn't his responsibility.
He was already exhausted.
But his body moved before his thoughts could stop it.
He grabbed her arm and shoved her back.
She fell hard onto the wet pavement.
The sound of the horn came after.
White light swallowed his vision.
There was no pain at first—just impact. His body lifted, weightless, and then slammed down again. His head struck the road with a sound he would never hear properly.
Warmth spread beneath him, mixing with the rain.
Blood.
The world tilted.
The girl's face appeared above him, pale, shaking. Her mouth moved. Words came out, but they sounded distant, like they were sinking underwater.
His vision blurred.
Streetlights stretched into long yellow lines.
He tried to breathe.
Air wouldn't come.
So this is it, he thought—not scared, not calm, just strangely disappointed.
Rain hit his face.
Cold.
Heavy.
Then even that sensation faded.
The streetlights went out one by one.
And the night finally went silent
Before the accident. Before death.
He had learned early not to expect anyone.
Birthdays passed quietly. School events ended with him walking home alone. When people talked about family, he listened and nodded, like he understood.
No one was waiting for him at night.
That was fine.
He told himself it was.
Rain fell steadily.
There was no crowd.
One umbrella stood beside the grave. The caretaker from the apartment building. A man who barely knew his name.
The coffin was small. Plain.
No incense smoke. No prayers spoken out loud.
The caretaker cleared his throat, awkward.
"…He paid rent on time," the man said quietly, like it was the only good thing he could remember.
The coffin was lowered.
No one cried.
No one called his name.
The rain filled the silence and ended it.
That was the end of his first life.
Noise crashed into him the moment his eyes opened.
Not the soft hum of a city—but something rougher. Hooves striking stone. Deep voices. The smell of iron and dust in the air.
He stood up slowly.
The sky was painfully blue. Too clear. Buildings rose around him, tall but unfamiliar, their shapes wrong in small ways—corners too sharp, materials he couldn't name.
And the people—
Not all of them were human.
A woman with fox ears argued with a merchant. A pair of lizard-skinned figures pushed a cart down the street. No one stared. This was normal here.
His breath caught.
…I'm not where I was.
He looked down at his hands.
Uninjured. No blood. No pain.
A rush of dizzy relief hit him—and with it, dangerous excitement.
Then the impact.
Something massive slammed into him.
"Watch it."
He looked up at the bull beastman towering over him.
"I'm sorry," he said immediately, bowing his head.
Not because he was wrong.
Because backing down had always been safer.
The bull snorted.
"Always the same," the beastman muttered. "Soft ones first."
The slap came fast.
The sound echoed.
His face burned. His vision blurred—but what hurt more was the familiarity of it.
Of course.
No one stepped in.
No one ever did.
Something twisted in his chest—not anger.
Loneliness.
He swung.
The punch was weak. Desperate.
The bull caught his fist easily.
Crushing it.
The beastman leaned close.
"Alone, aren't you?"
The words hit harder than the slap.
The bull-headed brute's grip tightened around Dwll's right hand.
A crack echoed.
Pain shot up his arm like fire. Before Dwll could even scream, the creature's other fist smashed into his face. The world flipped sideways.
Then—darkness.
Dwll woke to silence.
Pure white surrounded him. No walls. No floor. Just endless white.
A boy sat across from him at a small wooden table, calmly sipping tea. He looked oddly old-fashioned—neat clothes, cyan hair, relaxed eyes.
"Ah," the boy said, lowering his cup. "You finally woke up. Took you long enough."
Dwll blinked. His head throbbed.
"Who are you? Where am I?"
"My name is Laplace," the boy replied. "And you… are no longer in your world."
Dwll stared.
"You died. Or close enough that the worlds decided to trade you."
"…Trade me?"
Laplace shrugged. "You're in a new world now. Same body. Same you. Just… worse luck."
Dwll clenched his jaw. "Why me?"
"Not my department," Laplace said lightly. "I just deliver the message."
He snapped his fingers. The white space rippled.
"In this world, there are lands where humans live powerless… and lands where people wield strange abilities. You landed in the latter."
Dwll opened his mouth to ask more—
Laplace suddenly stood.
"Oh. Time's up."
"Wait—what time? I still have—"
The white world shattered.
Dwll gasped awake.
Wood creaked beneath him. The air smelled like dirt and sweat.
He was inside a moving carriage.
Two girls, barely teenagers, sat across from him. Their wrists were tied. Fear filled their eyes.
Dwll tried to move his right hand.
Agony.
His knuckles were swollen and purple—nearly crushed.
So it wasn't a dream.
At the front of the carriage sat a massive man with a thick neck and scarred arms. He glanced back at the girls with a grin that made Dwll's stomach turn.
The man leaned closer to them.
The driver muttered, "Don't touch the goods yet."
"Relax," the big man replied lazily. "Just looking."
He reached anyway.
Dwll's body moved before his fear could stop him. He grabbed the man's wrist.
"Don't touch them."
The man blinked in surprise. Then laughed.
"A broken toy speaks."
Dwll thought:
If this is a new world… maybe I got some power too.
He punched the man's jaw.
It felt like hitting a wall.
The man didn't even flinch.
"A stupid human," he said. "Trying to act brave."
He cracked his knuckles.
A heavy fist flew at Dwll's head.
Dwll ducked by pure instinct. The punch shattered part of the carriage instead.
Too strong.
Dwll raised his stance.
"When I was a kid," he muttered, "I learned judo."
He tried to throw the man.
The man didn't budge.
"…Right. Weight classes exist."
The brute grabbed Dwll by the collar and lifted him like a doll. Air left Dwll's lungs.
His vision blurred.
Yet strangely—
He didn't black out.
His mind stayed clear.
The carriage suddenly lurched.
The driver yelled.
A wheel hit a rock. The carriage tipped and crashed into a tree.
Everyone was thrown.
Dwll slammed into the ground, but rolled on instinct. Pain rang through his skull.
The brute wasn't so lucky—the broken carriage pinned him down.
Dwll staggered up, dizzy, bleeding from the forehead.
He grabbed a fallen stick and struck the man's head.
Once.
Twice.
The man stopped moving.
Dwll breathed hard.
Then the body twitched.
Bones cracked.
Hair sprouted.
The man's form twisted into a wolf-like beast, larger than a horse.
Its eyes locked onto Dwll.
Dwll ran.
Branches tore at his clothes. His lungs burned. The beast tore through trees behind him like paper.
He reached the edge of a cliff.
No more running.
The beast lunged—
A voice rang inside his head.
[System Notification]
Condition Met: Death to life act (legendary)
Skill Unlocked: Sound Step (Level 2)
Effect: Short-range silent teleport (3 meters)
Cooldown: Once per day
The wolf's jaws closed.
Dwll vanished.
He reappeared at the cliff's edge. The beast overshot and fell.
Silence.
Dwll collapsed to his knees, breathing hard.
He looked back.
The girls were alive. Shaken, but safe.
Slowly, Dwll whispered:
"…System?"
A faint transparent window shimmered before his eyes.
And for the first time—
He realized this world was serious about killing him.
This world wouldn't protect him.
This world would test him.
And next time—
Luck might not save him.