Chapter 1: Chapter 1: I Think Death’s A Bottom

I regarded the words and images before me as if they were coming from a sacred manuscript. Each perfectly-drawn part of the human body and each brilliant line of dialogue in the speech bubbles seemed to echo through my very soul. It was a doujin that I'd read several times before and had very nearly committed to memory. And so, Death found me enraptured, with my pants around my ankles, one hand on my mouse and the other down my pants.

He was kind of a short man, and he carried himself with an almost timid air as he coughed softly to catch my attention. With pale skin, black hair, and eyes that seemed to swallow me up, he certainly had a supernatural appearance. Even at this distance, I could read the name tag on his button-down shirt. Hello! I'm: Death.

I looked up from the computer, and the blood drained from my face as I saw his unfamiliar figure.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I've come for your soul."

"What—?"

Unbearably dizzy and hyper-conscious of every part of my body, I tried to stand, but my legs collapsed beneath me and I fell to the floor.

"Let me help you," he continued, extending a hand towards me.

In a haze, I began to wonder if I'd been thrown into some sort of supernatural porno. Sans pants in front of my computer, reaching for the hand of a stranger...? Weirder things had never happened to me and probably would never happen to me again. It's not that he was my type, per se, but the fact that he held power over me was undeniably frustrating.

I shook my head, trying to ignore my low-key attraction, though I still accepted the offered help. My belt buckle clanged conspicuously, sending my thoughts into a downward spiral.

"Disgusting," I imagined the man might say, unable to ignore the sound.

I'd try to pull up my pants, but he'd shake his head and smirk. The expression would seem out of place on his face, but somehow that would make it all the better.

"Leave them down."

"What?"

"Don't look so surprised. You were the one looking for some excitement, right? I'll do a better job than your hand."

"Please."

And then he'd reach down—

Instead, a gentle voice mumbled my name. "Matsuo, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

So much for my pornographic delusions.

"Probably," I said. "Almost gave me a heart attack, though."

The man looked a little sheepish. "Not almost."

My mouth was dry. My eyes darted around the room, coming to a stop on the body slumped over the keyboard. My body. Shit.

"You're screwing with me," I said dumbly.

"I'm afraid not."

"No. Absolutely not! No way!" My voice cracked. "This is just a fucked up dream. Hey, wake up, me!"

I tried to shake the body's shoulders, but my hands passed through it. A chill overtook me, and then a familiar hot flush of utter mortification.

"Death by masturbation?!"

"Not technically," my visitor clarified. "I believe you barely even got hard."

"I'm sorry for enjoying the plot!"

So what if I never even had the chance to die the little death? It's not like orgasm is - was? - the be-all-end-all. Anyway, goodbye, my boring college days! Hello, afterlife!

"Can you at least pull my pants up? I think I'd die again if my roommate found me this way."

"I really shouldn't interfere—"

"You gave me a heart attack while my hand was on my dick. You don't consider that interference?"

We stared each other down for a long moment until, finally, Death gave in. He pulled my pants up and even refastened my belt. I looked like a perfectly ordinary man who'd fallen asleep at his computer.

"And delete my browser history, too," I added, remembering exactly what keywords I'd followed.

"You're awfully bossy," Death mumbled, but he started clicking around nonetheless.

"You're looking!" I knew my face had to be bright red. "Don't look!"

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"Oh..." Death was blushing harder than I'd ever seen a man blush in my life. "This is Watase-sensei's work."

"Wait, you know Watase-sensei?"

"Y- Yes, well..."

"Is the rumor true?"

"What?" He looked nervous.

"The reason they haven't released anything new in a year. Did they really meet with a terrible fate?"

"That information is protected under Reaper-Spirit confidentiality," he said quickly.

"Ah." My face fell. "I'll pour one out for my good sensei."

"But I didn't say anything."

"Of course you didn't."

He took a few deep breaths before closing the offending tab and navigating to my browser settings. "Alright. Regardless, it's solidarity between brothers."

There it was, the sweet, blank slate of a clean history! My roommate would never know what kind of deviant had been living under his roof.

"So... Is this it?" I asked. "Am I doomed to float around my shitty apartment until the end of time, or is there something else?"

"I was getting to that," Death responded quietly. "We don't have a lot of time, so I'd better take you to the character creator for you to customize your new self."

"Character creator? New self?"

"You don't think I'd reincarnate a brother-in-arms into some random body, did you?" Death was surprisingly loyal to the cause. "Besides, determining some of your attributes for yourself will cause a greater rate of synchronization with your new world and keep the fabric of reality from tearing."

"Did you casually just say something terrifying?"

He ignored me and continued, "You'll keep your memories, of course, but you'll be transferred into a new body of your choosing."

Death waved a hand and suddenly, a VR visor fell into my hands. He gestured for me to put it on.

A silhouette appeared in front of me. I could manipulate menus and sliders on the left side with a wave of my hand. The first slider determined the figure's height. The second phased a skin color into view on the blank slate of a body. I toyed with weight and muscle tone, too, shaving a few pounds off and blessing myself with a swordsman's physique.

Eyes? Red, please. Nose? Average. Mouth? Let's add a little fang. Twenty minutes passed before I settled on a hairstyle. Death was starting to look a bit uncomfortable, but I continued with my customizations.

The default on the "Race" menu was Human, which was probably the safest pick with its balanced stat allocation, but as I scrolled through the options and the body in front of me altered itself to fit the criteria, I found it harder and harder to make a decision. Everything just looked so damn cool. Finally, I had it narrowed down to three choices, not including subraces, which I honestly hadn't even looked at yet.

Beastman had sky-high constitution, and I couldn't deny the appeal in having ears and a tail. Maybe a collar would even be default starting equipment! While Dragonkin was all about attack strength, its distinct lack of humanoid features meant it might be tough to fit in. Demon, with its high magic stat, did contrast the swordsman persona I'd been building. I did like the idea of specializing in both! Both was always better.

Once I'd selected Demon again, the submenu opened. There was a traditional "Hellbent" demon with an ugly face, wicked black horns, and a spade-tipped tail. There was the "Royal" demon, with more noble features. "Desire" was the third option, which improved my... physique. And last was "Bestial," which seemed to be a hybrid race. This subrace was further divided into "Hellcat" and "Hellhound," so I naturally opted for the latter.

My new body was humanoid, yes, but the sinewy muscle definition was incredible. When I spun the camera around to admire— er, inspect the figure's backside, I watched the furry tail wag back and forth. As for the horns, I honestly didn't pay much attention to changing them from their shortish default state.

"We're running out of time," Death's voice interrupted my reverie. "Please move on to the class selection screen. I'm sorry for the rush, but you have five minutes before you'll automatically transfer into your new body."

Damn it, Death! I swore under my breath. There was no way I'd be able to read all of this information in only five minutes. I had to zoom out to 30% before the whole flowchart would fit in my field of view. It was a detailed map of how each base class promoted into each advanced class, with a helpful indication of required items, levels, and even minimum stat requirements.

Skimming through some of the usual suspects like Knight and Caster, I found one by the name of Wildcard. It prioritized the luck stat, opened up a tree of randomized magic abilities, and could promote to almost anything. With fifteen seconds left, all I had to do was stay on this goddamn screen. You'd think I'd be able to manage something simple like that, right?

Right?

A tickle started in my nostrils. My mouth opened and my eyes closed. "Ah— Ah—!"

As I sneezed violently, the visor came loose and began to fall. My hands flew up to catch it, and in the process, I made the gesture for swiping to the next screen. By the time I got the visor back on, the countdown clock read 0:00 and the screen was frozen on the description of Lackey.

Aw, fuck.

"I don't suppose I get a do-over?" I asked Death.

He shook his head. "The synchronization has already begun."

I took the visor off and, before I could even bid my brother in filth goodbye, the world around me changed forever.

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