The first thing Kenji noticed was the smell.
It wasn't the sterile, metallic scent of the hospital he had expected, nor was it the ozone and gasoline of the Shinjuku alleyway. It was the thick, cloying stench of stagnant water, old sweat, and something floral that had rotted in a vase. It was the smell of a room that had been sealed off from the sun for far too long.
He tried to draw a breath, but his lungs felt heavy, as if they were still half-full of the white mist from the void.
"Liam! Oh, gods, Liam! You've come back to us!"
A high-pitched, sobbing cry shattered the silence. Suddenly, the blurry world rushed into focus. He wasn't in a void anymore. He was lying on a mattress so soft it felt like it was trying to swallow him. Above him, a canopy of deep emerald silk draped down, and surrounding the bed was a sea of faces.
An older woman, her hair a sophisticated silver-blonde tied in an elegant but disheveled bun, threw herself forward. She caught his shoulders, her expensive lace sleeves dragging across his chest as she pulled him into a desperate, crushing embrace.
Kenji froze. Liam? Is that me? The name felt foreign, a label slapped onto a package he didn't recognize. He looked past the woman's shaking shoulders. A dozen maids in black-and-white uniforms stood in a semi-circle, their hands clasped over their mouths, eyes red from crying. The room was cavernous, filled with dark wood furniture, gold-leaf mirrors, and the kind of grandeur that belonged in a history museum.
Beside the bed stood a man who looked like he had aged ten years in a single night. He wore a high-collared tunic embroidered with silver thread—the mark of high nobility. His jaw was set tight, but his eyes were shining with unshed tears.
Kenji wanted to speak. He wanted to ask, Who are you? Where is the Angel? But his throat felt as though it were filled with glass. He realized, with a jolt of intuition, that the silence in this room was "loud." It was a silence filled with a month's worth of grief and a decade's worth of secrets. He stayed quiet, simply nodding his head when the man looked at him.
"That's enough," the man said, his voice raspy. "Give him air. All of you—out. Now."
The maids bowed deeply, their skirts rustling like dry leaves as they filed out. The woman finally pulled back, her hands trembling as she cupped Kenji's face.
"I am sorry," the man said, sinking into a velvet chair by the bedside. "I know... I know it is hard to say anything after going through that incident. I know you feel the world has turned against you."
Kenji didn't trust his voice. He just remained silent, nodding slowly. He had no idea what "incident" the man was talking about, but the weight of it felt mountain-high.
The mother leaned in, her voice a fierce, desperate whisper. "Liam, listen to me. All of us love and need you. Please... do not ever do anything that will harm yourself again. We cannot lose you."
Harm yourself? The realization hit Kenji like a physical blow. This wasn't just a random rebirth. He had stepped into the body of a boy who had tried to end his own life.
"Rest now," the father said, ushering the mother toward the door. "We will talk when you are stronger."
The heavy oak doors clicked shut.
Alone, Kenji sat up, his head spinning. He caught his reflection in a tall, silver-framed mirror. He wasn't a thirty-year-old salaryman anymore. A boy of seventeen staring back at him—pale, with sharp features and dark hair that hung limp over eyes that looked far too tired for a teenager.
Status, he thought. A blue window hissed into life.
[USER: LIAM VON ASTRID]
[TITLES: "THE ONE WHO RETURNED FROM DEATH", "THE ONE WHO HAD THE GODDESS'S SMILE"]
[ATTRIBUTES]
STRENGTH: 5 (-35 )
AGILITY: 4 (-36 )
INT: 40 / VIT: 2 / MANA: 10
LUCK: 100
"Minus everything?" Kenji hissed. "Is this the debuff for stealing a body?"
He looked around the room, his eyes landing on the edge of a leather-bound book peeking out from under the bed. He snagged it. It was a diary. As he scanned the strange runes, they magically shifted into a language he understood—the "Goddess's Smile" at work.
He read for hours, his blood turning to ice. The diary described how this boy, Liam, had fallen in love with a girl from a lower noble house. She had been kidnapped and killed by higher-ranking nobility for sport. Liam had tried to uncover the truth, but the Academy's upper management had crushed his investigation to protect the powerful. In his despair, the boy had chosen the only exit he could find.
"How is this lucky?" Kenji muttered. "I've inherited a tragedy."
A soft knock at the door startled him. A woman entered carrying a tray of food. Kenji's breath caught. She was stunning—mature, with a curvy, alluring figure that the maid's uniform struggled to contain. Her dark hair was pinned up, and her eyes held a spark of deep, knowing intelligence.
"Lord Liam," she said, her voice like velvet. "You shouldn't be out of bed."
"Who... who are you?" Kenji asked.
She paused, a flicker of sadness crossing her face. "The fever must have taken your memory for a moment. I am Suzune. Your private maid. I have looked after you since you were a child."
She sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. She began to feed him a warm ration of broth. As she worked, she leaned in to wipe the corner of his mouth with a silk cloth. Kenji felt his face heat up; he felt like a flustered schoolboy confessing to a beautiful older woman.
"Eat," she murmured. "You need your strength if you're going to face them again."
She left with a playful, swaying gait, leaving Kenji alone in the dimming light. He checked the status window again. The red numbers were twitching, slowly rising as his soul settled.
[STRENGTH: 12 (+7)]
[AGILITY: 11 (+7)]
"I need to do something," Kenji whispered to the dark. "This boy didn't die for nothing."