Ryan stared at the shameless old geezer who was sitting right in front of him, awkwardly twiddling his fingers like a shy high-school girl. Believe it or not, this shameless guy—yes, this piece of shit—is the god of earth.
"Ahm, Ryan, my man, why aren’t you saying something? Don’t you like my cloud?"
"You!! How the hell can you be so shameless?!" Ryan screamed.
"I get it, okay, I get it. Anyone would be angry if they got hit by a giant dildo in the middle of the day!"
"I fucking died because of your stupid dildo! Why the hell do you even have the dildo? Aren’t you a guy?"
"Hey, let’s not get into my kinks here. I know what shit you have on your computer."
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"
Ryan flipped the table, which appeared and disappeared in a moment just as he thought about it. He was bewildered by how weird everything around him was.
"Okay, okay, let’s see... It’s definitely my fault that you died, so how about I send you somewhere else?" God asked.
’Whoa! I get to be isekai’d! So cool. I am definitely going to ask for all the cheats.’ Ryan thought.
"Then give me amazing cheat powers and make me a noble, and yeah, a big package downstairs would be nice too."
"Whoa! Whoa! Hold your panties there. It’s the same world as before, just a little different. A parallel universe."
"Everything is the same?"
"Yes, well, it’s a parallel world, so maybe a little difference in timeline, but the values and society are almost the same as yours."
"Well, good enough, do it. But at least give me some powers or something as an apology."
"I am already transmigrating you. What else do you want?"
"Gimme a cheat skill, like a system or super power..."
"That’s not going to be possible. Ask for something reasonable; I don’t want to explain this shit to upper management afterward."
"Then do a better job at being god and stop masturbating at work!!"
"Hmph, fine, go away now. I have stuff to insert.. Ah, I mean work.. I have work to do."
"You definitely just said stuff to insert! You, useless old man."
Suddenly, everything went black. Ryan’s head started hurting like hell. As if all his senses returned in double the force. Ryan tried to lift his heavy eyelids and make sense of what he was seeing.
It was a strange place. The walls were of stone; a few pieces of antique furniture decorated the room, and even lanterns were nailed to the walls. His butt was on a cold stone floor. Two teenagers were staring at him with shocked, wide eyes.
The boy, around 16, had dark blue hair and bright blue eyes. The girl, a few years older, had long red hair but the same beautiful, structured, angular face and bright azure eyes. Her eyes narrowed, though, as she looked straight at Ryan as if he were a corpse who had just opened his eyes, and she was not sure what to make of it.
"It... worked?" The boy said, or more appropriately asked.
"There is no way," The girl whispered, "I had no idea what I was doing!"
The boy looked at her aghast, "You said you knew everything there was to know about Dark Channeling!"
The girl avoided his intense gaze. "Which includes only one book I stole from mother’s library..."
"You!" The boy was shocked.
"Shh!" The girl shushed him; she seemed to be the one in charge of whatever this was. "It doesn’t matter in the end. He still seems just as lost."
"I don’t know.. His eyes look more alive somehow." The boy replied.
"Uhm... What is happening?" Ryan managed to say; it was more difficult for some reason than it should have been, as if his throat was not expecting the movement at all.
"AAAAHHHH!"
To his shock, the two teenagers screamed so loudly he was forced to cover his ears. Falling on their butts and pointing at him, they hurried to back away.
For the first time, Ryan noticed his surroundings a little better. He was standing in the very middle of a large pentagram magic circle painted with blood and some weird, smelly black substance.
’What the hell is going on!?’
Now, he too was equally scared. Did that bastard old geezer really send him to another world using black magic or something? His hands and legs indeed looked unfamiliar. His pov felt much lower than what he was used to as a high school boy. A new body?
’Am I handsome?’
There was no way to tell. His skin was flawlessly smooth and white, though. He was not light-skinned anymore.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps sounded outside the closed room. A dozen men in steel armor, with faintly glowing swords in hand, rushed in, making the situation even worse. The two teenagers tried to stop the soldiers, while a few soldiers stared at Ryan with bewildered expressions when suddenly their swords stopped glowing; some were horrified by the magic circle, some were confused by the sudden change, and drew their swords at Ryan with fear in their eyes.
A few minutes later, Ryan was escorted to another room in the large castle and told to remain there; the soldiers locked the door from the outside. The room only had a couple of chairs and dozens of extra armor pieces gathering dust.
’I am a prisoner.’ Ryan realized.
Thankfully, there was a small mirror in the room. It was dirty and cracked but still functional enough.
Ryan stared at his reflection. A pretty, sweet face stared back at him, with black eyes and purple hair so dark it was almost black. As if seeing his face unlocked some parts of his mind, memories flooded into his consciousness.
"Hmm... weird."
It was hard to believe, but he was now a noble brat. Twelve years old. Youngest child of Duke Henric Dawnfire; Faust Dawnfire. He had no memories of it before he turned 7, but apparently, when he was five years old, he somehow became a vegetable.
He could breathe, eat, and even walk if guided, but would not talk, blinked once in a minute, and had zero facial expressions. He did not speak at all. As if a walking corpse. All famous and infamous healers of the world were called for his treatment, but nothing resulted in anything good.
The memories were like movie scenes playing all around him, but he himself never played any part in them.
Until one day, his older sister, the redhead from earlier, tried to do forbidden blood magic to revive him. And that was it. That’s how he came to be. Faust could not recognize his own face. No matter how long he stared at it, it was so unfamiliar.
This boy had no thoughts in his brain, and yet every single day of his observer life was clear and detailed in Faust’s mind.
More than that, Faust remembered perfectly every inch of that complex magic circle he had seen earlier, despite only sparing it a fleeting glance. Needless to say, many things were odd about this boy he had become.