Kazuki Ichiro died the way no man should:
With a half-chewed ball of takoyaki lodged in his throat and soy sauce in his eyes.
It was supposed to be a peaceful night. He'd finished his shift at the convenience store, splurged on some discounted anime-themed takoyaki, and had just queued up an episode of Legend of Blade King: Remastered Edition when fate—and a slippery floor—struck.
There was no tunnel of light. No angelic choir. Just darkness, a lot of choking, and what felt like being smacked across the face by a frozen fish.
Then he opened his eyes.
He was lying in a field of grass so green it looked photoshopped. The sky above sparkled with two suns, one of which had a smiley face.
"I'm either hallucinating or dead," Kazuki muttered, sitting up. "Hopefully both."
[You have inherited the Divine Authority: GOD OF SWORDS]
[Blessing granted: Infinite Blade Proficiency]
[Appearance adjustment in progress…]
"Wait, what?"
His clothes had changed. Gone was the ketchup-stained polo and apron. In its place: a flowing black cloak, silvery armor etched with ancient glyphs, and a sword—an actual, full-sized katana—strapped to his back.
It shimmered like starlight. It hummed ominously.
It started talking.
"Yo. You're finally awake."
Kazuki blinked. "…Are you my sword?"
"Unfortunately. I was hoping for a cooler god, but here we are."
"Oh great. A mouthy weapon. Do you have a name?"
"Yeah. Mirukumo, the Blade of Eternal Balance. But you can call me Miru. Or Masterpiece. Or Sexy. Your call."
"…I'll go with Miru."
"Coward."
Kazuki sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay. Let me get this straight. I died eating convenience store food, and now I'm a god with a sword that talks like it runs a Twitch channel."
"Sounds about right."
"And I have… what, sword powers?"
[Skill unlocked: World Severing Slash]
[Warning: You are not currently angry enough to use this skill]
"…I have emotions-based sword powers?"
"You're basically a shonen protagonist in god-mode," Miru explained. "Except you look like you haven't slept since 2009."
Fair.
Kazuki stood, stretching. The armor felt weightless. The cloak billowed dramatically without wind. He immediately tripped over a rock and fell face-first into the dirt.
"Real majestic," Miru said dryly.
"Shut up."
Kazuki groaned and sat up again, brushing grass from his hair. The air smelled like flowers and adventure and mild humiliation. In the distance, he spotted a dirt path winding toward what looked like a small town. Smoke rose from chimneys. Birds chirped. Somewhere nearby, something howled.
He ignored the howling.
A few minutes later, a notification window popped up in the sky. Like, literally in the sky.
[The God of Swords has returned.]
[All Sword Cults rejoice.]
[All other gods roll their eyes.]
"What does that mean?" Kazuki asked.
"You're basically famous," Miru said. "Gods here don't die—they just quit. The last Sword God retired and handed the job to whoever died with the most 'Sword Spirit Affinity.' That was you, apparently."
Kazuki scratched his head. "How do I have sword spirit affinity? I worked retail."
"Did you ever swing a broom like a katana?"
"…Yes."
"There you go."
Kazuki scowled. "So I'm a literal divine accident."
"Yup."
He walked.
The town wasn't far, but with the armor, the dramatic cloak, and the occasional notification chiming in like an annoying GPS, it felt longer than it should've.
People noticed him immediately.
They stared. Whispered. Pointed.
One child screamed, "It's him! The Sword God!"
Kazuki waved weakly. "Hey."
Chaos erupted. Flowers were thrown. Someone passed out. A cart full of carrots tipped over as its owner fled in joy, or fear—unclear. A group of sword monks appeared out of nowhere and began chanting.
Kazuki blinked. "Did they just… build a shrine in ten minutes?"
Miru cackled. "You should see what they do for bathroom breaks."
"I don't want to know."
Someone knelt before him. A woman with bright blue hair and shining eyes. She held out a baby. "Bless my child, oh great one!"
"I have no idea how," Kazuki said.
"Just touch his forehead."
He did. The baby's eyes glowed. Then it farted loudly.
[You have unknowingly bestowed the passive skill: Unbreakable Spine (Lv1)]
"What—"
"Nice," Miru said. "That baby's gonna be a wrestler someday."
"I don't even know what I'm doing!"
"Exactly. That's what makes it funny."
Later, Kazuki found a rundown inn on the edge of town that seemed quiet enough. He ducked inside, only to be met with wide eyes and stunned silence.
"I'm not here to smite anyone," he said quickly. "I just want a room."
The innkeeper bowed so hard he nearly knocked over a chair. "O-of course! The grand suite is yours, my lord!"
"I'd be fine with a closet."
"The grand suite it is!"
Kazuki sighed and accepted the key.
He sat on the bed, staring at his reflection in the polished metal of his gauntlet. His face looked sharper now. More... protagonist-y. But the tired eyes were still his.
"You ever think maybe they made a mistake?" he asked.
"They did," Miru said. "But you're here now. So make the most of it. Or don't. Either way, I'm stuck with you."
Kazuki exhaled. "Cool."
He tossed the sword onto a nearby couch. It hovered for a second, then politely placed itself on the armrest.
"Showoff," he muttered.
"Damn right."
That night, Kazuki tried to sleep.
He couldn't.
Between the divine notifications, the sound of chanting from sword cultists outside his window, and the occasional giggle from Miru ("I think someone just named their kid after you"), it was impossible to relax.
He stared at the ceiling.
Maybe this wasn't a total loss.
Free food. Free room. Cool clothes.
But then again...
Rival gods. Cult pressure. Talking weapons.
Yeah. This was a mess.
He closed his eyes and thought about home. The hum of the fridge at the store. The crinkle of plastic snack wrappers. His old manager yelling about shelf spacing.
Maybe he could get used to this.
Maybe not.
But either way, he was stuck.
Meanwhile, deep in the mountains, in a room lit by candlelight and swirling divination smoke, a group of cloaked figures gathered.
"The Sword God has returned," one whispered.
"The balance is shifting."
"Should we warn him?"
A long pause.
"…Nah. Let's just watch. It'll be more entertaining."