Sticky. Thick. Reeking.
That was all his nose could register.
His eyelids felt impossibly heavy. He couldn't open them.
His mind drifted, sluggish and dull, like he'd drunk himself senseless.
Right… yesterday… he was drinking with a client.
Did he pass out after getting wasted?
No. No, he couldn't afford to lose this client…
I—
The instant he opened his mouth, a slick liquid poured in.
Startled, he snapped it shut.
Wait.
The smell was foul… but the taste—
It wasn't rotten.
It was sweet.
Strangely sweet.
A warm current began flowing through his body.
Strength slowly seeped back into his limp limbs.
What… is going on?
Everything around him felt silent. Dead quiet.
He tried to open his eyes.
Nothing.
Tried to move his hands. His feet.
He couldn't even feel them.
His mind involuntarily conjured absurd images—
Restraints. Confinement. A sci-fi incubation tank filled with fluid.
No. Don't panic.
Fear won't help. Stay calm.
When he swallowed that liquid earlier, his strength returned.
If eating restores him—
Then eat.
Recover first.
His thoughts gradually sharpened.
Open your mouth.
The same sweet liquid flowed smoothly in again.
He still didn't know what was happening, but one thing was certain—
He was submerged in some kind of fluid.
And there was a lot of it.
He drank and drank until his belly felt swollen and full.
So sleepy…
His head grew heavy.
No. I can't sleep yet—
His will to survive struggled, but the crushing drowsiness overwhelmed him.
Darkness claimed him.
---
A dream.
A very long dream.
In the dream, he became a dragon.
A colossal dragon clad in emerald scales.
The dragon stood upright upon the earth, head lowered slightly in quiet dominance. Its powerful yet sleek body was long and elegant. Every scale gleamed like polished jade; along its broad abdomen lay thick, white, elongated scales—denser and heavier than the rest.
It stood there—graceful, majestic.
[Kaos · Phobetor · Amoros]
A voice echoed the name in his mind.
Before him stood a massive hourglass made of pure gold—larger than he was.
Kaos lowered his draconic head and examined his raised claw.
Thick emerald scales covered it; the scales on his claws were smaller, tighter. The talons curved like hooks, sharp and dark.
Understanding flooded in.
True Dragon inheritance.
So… I've been reborn as a green dragon?
That…
That is—
Awesome!
No more 9-9-6.
No more waking earlier than a rooster and sleeping later than a dog!
After the initial surge of excitement, Kaos quickly calmed himself.
Celebrating at halftime was taboo.
Assess the situation.
Current state: still a dragon egg.
True name awakened. That meant he was a genuine True Dragon—no risk of being casually discarded by a dragon mother.
All he needed to do now was sleep and grow.
Break the shell when the time came.
As for the golden hourglass—
The inheritance contained no record of it.
Based on years of reading web novels, it was probably a "cheat."
What it did? No idea.
Golden sand continued to fall, already halfway through.
Maybe when it empties… something will happen.
The feeling was inexplicably strong.
Then he would wait.
The white space around him held nothing else—only himself and the towering hourglass.
And as for what a pre-True Dragon should do—
The answer came quickly.
Exhaustion crashed over him.
The kind that came after pulling an all-nighter finishing drafts until dawn.
He didn't resist.
Darkness swallowed him again.
---
Inside an empty eggshell, a plump emerald hatchling lay curled in a ball.
Its thick, scale-covered eyelids trembled and slowly lifted. A translucent pink membrane peeled back, revealing deep emerald vertical pupils. Golden slits formed within them.
Kaos focused.
The faintly glowing green "wall" before him—
Not a wall.
His shell.
He extended a claw and touched it.
Rounded hatchling claws, covered in green scales. Black hooked talons. Sharp.
He smiled.
His dragon muzzle parted slightly, revealing two rows of small, white fangs.
Good.
It wasn't a dream.
He truly had transformed from an overworked office drone into a creature standing at the top of the biological hierarchy.
From today onward—
He was Kaos.
An elegant and majestic green dragon.
The past? Nothing worth clinging to.
He had always been alone. No dramatic attachments like novel protagonists.
He raised his head.
At the top of the shell, a faint green magical ring glowed in a semicircle.
Information surfaced automatically:
[Dragon Egg Weak Point:
To protect the egg, the mother dragon infuses it with immense magic during gestation. This magic forms a hardened outer shell with no weaknesses externally. Only at the inner apex forms a green magic ring—the egg's sole weak point.]
A living encyclopedia.
That was the power of True Dragon inheritance.
Dragons documented their knowledge across generations.
Countless years of accumulation.
Born with an automatic database.
No wonder dragons stood at the apex.
And this mighty dragon—
Was him.
He stood upright in the egg and planted his chubby claws on his hips.
After basking in self-satisfaction for a moment, he lowered them.
Time to get serious.
He raised a claw, gathering strength.
Time to hatch.
Golden light focused in his emerald pupils.
Full force.
He struck.
"Gyaaa—!"
Pain!
No—hard!
He hopped in circles inside the egg, shaking his fractured claw.
After a while, the pain dulled.
He grabbed his bent claw with the other.
Already recovering.
And hunger stirred in his belly.
Regeneration consumes nutrients.
So this is the power of dragonkind.
No wonder dragons were arrogant in fantasy tales.
With strength like this… how could they not be?
He looked up.
The weak point now bore a spiderweb crack—about one-third shattered.
Two more full-force hits.
Which meant two more fractures.
Dragon mother? Probably useless.
Chromatic dragons were driven by instinct—greedy, violent, cold.
If she raised him at all, he should kneel in gratitude.
No help coming.
He'd rely on himself.
Left claw or right?
Left. Fair.
He gathered strength.
Strike!
"Gyaa—!"
Cracks spread to two-thirds.
So painful!
Rage surged.
Break already!
Right claw. Full force.
CRACK.
Like shattering glass, the shell above collapsed inward.
Kaos lifted his head, both twisted claws dangling uselessly.
He stretched his neck to peer outside.
Darkness.
Then—
Focus.
Like a camera lens adjusting.
The darkness broke.
Stalactites filled his vision.
He could even see the fine textures on their surfaces.
A cave.
That fit chromatic dragon habitat preferences.
More inheritance surfaced:
[The plane is filled with enthusiastic neighbors.
They bring treasure—and occasionally "generously" provide palaces and capitals for dragons to reside in.
These neighbors may be elves, humans, goblins, and other intelligent species.
Young dragons are "shy," rarely leaving their caves except to greet passing neighbors.
As they mature, they outgrow this shyness and may "borrow" a palace of their own.]
Kaos understood.
His dragon mother was in the "shy" cave phase.
He sat in the shell until his fractured claws felt mostly healed.
Flexed them.
Still sore.
About eighty percent.
Good enough.
He stood.
Looked toward the opening above.
Excitement stirred.
What would this magical world look like?
Towering forests?
Endless plains?
With a push from his hind legs, he leapt and gripped the shell's edge.
His round emerald head squeezed through the broken opening.
Before he could properly observe—
Something surged in his throat.
Like a name demanding release.
He did not suppress it.
He opened his dragon maw.
"KAOS · PHOBETOR · AMOROS!"
The young dragon's cold, childish roar echoed clearly through the cave.