Death.
Five letters that made everyone afraid. Rich or poor. Good or evil. Whether saint or devil. It was the great equalizer, the black gate no one could escape. It came for everyone in the end.
But for Renji Kuroda… death itself wasn't the worst.
The worst part was losing her. His grandmother. The only soul who had ever loved him without condition. Her warmth and her midnight stories. Her trembling hands feeding him bitter medicine during sick nights. All gone now. Swallowed by fire and fate.
He remembered her eyes. Calm and sad. The way she smiled at him before she pulled the pin on that grenade.
Then came the flames.
Then the truck.
Then—silence.
And now...
"Tch… where am I?"
His voice came out hoarse. Weak, frail, and scratchy. Like he hadn't used it in days.
He blinked rapidly as his body shivered, exposed on cold stone. Chains bit into his wrists and ankles, keeping him in place. The scent of blood, rust, and incense clung thick in the air, wrapping around his senses like a chokehold.
Looking around, he realized that he wasn't alone.
Bodies filled the room, dozens of them. Young men and women, all shackled with chains and naked just like him. Some were crying. Others just stared at nothing. Their eyes were empty, broken.
"What the hell..."
Renji looked down at himself. His hands moved over his body, checking for wounds. The bullets that had torn through his stomach. The broken bones from being struck by the speeding truck. The blood that had pooled beneath him on the street.
Nothing. There was nothing at all. His body was whole. But it wasn't his body.
The skin was pale, too pale in fact. His hands were thin and soft, void of calluses despite his current situation. It didn't look like the hands of someone who had spent years stealing and fighting. And his hair... white strands fell across his face like silk, reaching below his shoulders.
That's when the memories hit.
SLAM.
Pain exploded in his head, like someone had driven a nail through his skull. A tidal wave of memories crashed into his skull like a divine hammer. His vision went white momentarily. His body jerked against the chains. Foreign thoughts crashed into his mind like waves against rocks.
He clutched his head and gritted his teeth, biting down a scream as visions, emotions, and foreign thoughts fought for control.
This new body had a different name, Ash Yagami. A different life, sold into slavery as a child. Bought and sold repeatedly like meat. A world where magic was real. Where people could throw fire and lightning. Where gods and demons walked among men.
When the pain stopped, he was gasping for air, panting like a man who had run through a marathon and won. Sweat covered his body. But he understood now.
"I... I'm not dead," he whispered.
A smile crept across his lips. It was crazy. Impossibly crazy even. But it was real. He had read about this in webnovels. Watched it in shows. Reincarnation, getting a second chance in a new world.
As an otaku in his past life, this was something he had fantasized about countless nights. Being reborn into a magical world, one with qi, spells, and mystical powers.
He had been reborn.
Despite his bleak situation, he almost laughed. "No way… I actually got isekai'd."
But before he could feel happy about it—
BANG!
The heavy iron door at the far end of the room slammed open, the noise echoing like thunder.
Three figures strode in. One man and two women. They wore dark uniform-like robes trimmed with blood-red symbols. Spiked chains dragged behind them, hissing across the stone floor like metal serpents. The sound made everyone in the room flinch.
The man in front was tall and bulky. His black hair was tied back in a tight braid. His eyes were cold and cruel. He looked at the prisoners like a butcher looking at cattle.
"Well, well," he said. His voice was smooth but unsettling. Like honey mixed with poison. "Look what we have here." he muttered, surveying the captives.
Then, without warning, he grabbed one of the chained boys by the hair. The boy screamed and tried to pull away. But It didn't help.
CRACK!
The spiked chain whipped across the boy's back, tearing his skin open. Blood ran down his spine. He screamed again. Higher pitched this time, like an animal in the slaughter house.
The man hit him again, and again, repeatedly. Each strike was worse than the last. The boy's agonizing screams filled the room. Some of the other prisoners started crying.
"Enough, Von," one of the women said lightly, brushing a lock of blonde hair from her face as she eyed the rest of the captives. Her voice was honey-coated, her expression dispassionate. "You wouldn't want him to break down this early, no?"
Von chuckled darkly. It was a sick sound. "Right-right. Can't play with broken toys."
Still, he struck the boy one final time before stepping back, licking blood from the chain like a sick dog. Then he gave the whimpering boy a lustful stare over his naked, blood-filled body—a look that made every male in the room shudder.
Ash's stomach turned.
'He likes men,' Ash realized. The thought made his skin crawl.
The two women moved through the prisoners. They picked out the handsome ones. Whispered to each other like they were shopping for clothes. Their voices were too quiet to hear, but Ash could guess what they were saying.
Then Von started walking again, examining the variety of 'toys' in the room. He suddenly stopped right in front of Ash.
Ash's heart stopped too.
Though Ash's long white hair veiled half his face, there was no hiding the beauty he now possessed, a handsome face that bothered femme fatale—high cheekbones, sharp chin, soft lips, and eyes that could kill or charm. The kind of beauty that made men jealous and women wary.
Von's mouth fell open. He was practically drooling now.
"Oh, my darling," Von purred lady-like, a comical yet terrifying image, considering his bulky stature. He stepped closer, spreading his hands. The chain in his hand rattled like a snake. "Come to daddy."
Ash's blood turned to cold. He'd never wished for death to take him instantly so bad before.
So this was the new world? Magic… demons… and monsters in human skin.
And if he wanted to survive, he would need to become something far more terrifying than all of them.