I found myself underwater, not too deep or too shallow, yet the light barely penetrated the darkness surrounding me. Initially suspended between the tranquil embrace of its ripples, I soon found myself engulfed by the violent torrent of its waves.

With each gentle ripple and chaotic sway of the currents, my silhouette ascended closer and closer to the surface, where streams of light cascaded down from above, casting shimmering rays that penetrated through the azure depths, slowly awakening my consciousness from its slumber.

Awakening to a light brighter than my entire future, and perhaps even surpassing the entire history of illumination invented by mankind, I found myself momentarily blinded. No ordinary light bulb could come close to imitating the sheer brilliance that engulfed me, leaving me momentarily disoriented and struggling to adjust to my newfound surroundings.

It was a sensation unlike any other, as if I had been thrusting into the core of the sun itself. The intensity of the light was so overwhelming that my eyes refused to open fully, as if in self-preservation mode to prevent me from going blind.

When my eyes gradually got used to the light, here I am being manhandled by some crazed lunatic, shaking me like a rag doll. Well, it can't get any better than this can it? If this bastard doesn't cut it out in the next five or so seconds, I swear I'm gonna pull a Houdini and make his hands disappear.

Now turning my attention away from the tall, brownish-haired, blue-eyed, white skinned jackass who's finally stopped his shaking spree, I take in the scenery with my now functioning eyes. And let me tell you, the only word that comes to mind to describe this endless white void is pure unadulterated bullshit.

"What kind of world line is this fucking supposed to be?" I mutter to myself, squinting through the blinding white abyss for a few seconds longer before realizing that Mr. Shaker over here is actually trying to have a conversation with me.

I finally decided to acknowledge the scumbag's existence, begrudgingly paying attention to his words. His eyes bore into mine like an unregistered sex offender trying to gauge my power level. With a dubious flicker in his gaze, he extended his hand to pull me up to my feet, a gesture I accepted willingly.

After all, what did I have to lose? I had just recalled the unfortunate fact that I fucking died from drinking water incorrectly. "Well, if this guy had any malicious intentions, I'd probably be fine. After all, I've already kicked the bucket once. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like I can die twice," I mused to myself, giving a nonchalant shrug.

After mentally reassuring myself, I soon learned that this generic white high school sitcom-looking side cast is called Howard, as he introduced himself, following up with a question on whether or not I died decently.

I could only return the formalities with a slightly awkward smirk, a reflexive response ingrained in me to grin like a pretentious hipster whenever I encountered an awkward or dangerous situation—a skill I've unintentionally honed over the course of my entire 18 years of living on Earth.

"Yes, Howard, I did indeed bite the dust recently. My name is Kevin, by the way," I said, finally breaking the silence with a voice that sounded more arrogant and calm than I actually felt at the moment.

Judging by Howard's sorry excuse for an icebreaker, I can safely assume that he, too, has met his demise and somehow found himself magically transported to this white void. Having heard and seen this trope over and over again in all my years as a consumer in the ever-declining market of copy-paste another world themed nonsense, I'm starting to get the gist of what's going on here.

However, my super high school level thought process was interrupted by Howard, who ejaculated another question onto my face that I couldn't care less about, asking for the specific details of my death. There is no way in hell I'm revealing the true cause of my death, so I decided to counter his question by redirecting it back to him.

"I believe it's your turn to provide answers, Howard. It wouldn't be an equitable exchange otherwise. So, allow me to return the question to you, How did you die?" I responded, my tone laced with the sole purpose of annoying Howard, playing into the fantasy of projecting myself as a genius character from one of the novels I've read.

Unsurprisingly, Howard doesn't seem to be fazed by my cringe-inducing 200 IQ character role play. If anything, I think he's into it. What a weirdo. Well, since he so nicely revealed his cause of death I suppose I'll have to give an adequate response in return.

And if this situation couldn't get any more cliche, Howard died from a traffic accident. I'd bet he got run over by a truck. So, I suppose he's the protagonist and I'm the side character then. How many good deeds did he do in his previous life to get the Trunk-kun treatment, while I die from a motherfucking water bottle?

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Silently sighing in defeat, I masterfully twist the truth behind my death into a believable lie. "Let's just say... I drowned. I was never really a good swimmer," I said, my gaze drifting away from Howard as I tried to search for the god-like entity that's supposed to be giving me an Isekai starter pack right about now, amidst the endless white void.

With a death as pathetic as mine I am entitled to some decent compensation. I better get a SSS ranked skill or talent. At this point, I suspect that Howard is more or less on the same page as me regarding the current circumstances we are in so I decided to cut to the chase.

"By the way, Howard... since we both died, shouldn't we be meeting God at this point, well, in the novels at least..." I remarked, my voice tinged with a note of skepticism.

As my words hung in the air, a sudden shift in the atmosphere ensued. The pure white surroundings shimmered and distorted, and a deep, resonant voice echoed through the void. It appears that my calls have been answered, though I'm uncertain why this divine figure chose to make such a tardy appearance.

"Indeed, my children," the voice boomed, its presence filling the space with an undeniable authority. "You have both arrived at the precipice of your new journey."

"Howard, who died from tripping over a rock... pfft... ahem, and Kevin, who... pfft— died from choking on water," the voice of God remarked, punctuated by an amused snort.

As the voice continued, its tone carried an air of condescension, underscoring the seemingly trivial nature of their demise. "Due to the pitiful circumstances surrounding your deaths, I, as God, hereby proclaim that the both of you shall be given a second chance at life. Consider yourselves lucky, I suppose."

I admit that I only have myself to blame for not accounting for the fact that God with Omniscience will never shut up. Although... pfft, seriously? Howard died from tripping? Well, now I don't feel so bad about myself. I can't believe I seriously fell for this bastard's cover-up story. Traffic accident, my ass; your ass didn't even make it to traffic. Note to self: Howard isn't the protagonist; he's now classified as cannon fodder.

Although I have no particular objections to a God's offer for a second life, I wonder if he's hot? Since he's a God, he's typically considered the embodiment of perfection, the supreme life form that transcends all mortals. So, in theory he should be quite the looker. It's a shame I can't catch a glimpse of his physical form so I'll have to just settle for his voice. I suppose that's a God for you—too high level for me to perceive.

Also goddamn, Howard, what's with all the serious questions? "Why don't you ever talk to us in the original world? Also, you exist, but you only show up when I'm dead. Why not when I'm alive?" What nonsense is all that supposed to be? Just ask for your cheat and get on with the show.

Wanting to halt Howard from dragging on with his unnecessary quibbles with God, I interjected with the real questions that needed to be answered, completely ignoring the passive-aggressive stares I received from him.

"So, God you mentioned that you're giving us a second chance at life. What's the catch? Even if you are God, I highly doubt you're that charitable to give without asking for something in return," I boldly remarked, trying to gauge his true intentions.

"Ah, Kevin," the voice of God rumbled, resonating through the endless white void. "You have keen insight. Indeed, there is a catch."

The voice paused for a moment, as if contemplating how best to phrase its response.

"You and your fellow companion, Howard," God continued, "are to be chiefs of your respective village. Both of you will be responsible for its growth, prosperity, and protection. It will be your task to guide its inhabitants and lead them toward a better future."

"So, a kingdom-building genre, huh? Sounds annoying already," I remarked, unable to hide my skepticism. "What perks and benefits will we receive to accomplish this task?"

"Fear not, my child," God reassured, his voice echoing through the void. "You will be bestowed with a system equipped with an optimized leveling function. It will allow you to gain experience at twice the pace of a normal person. Additionally, you will have an inventory capable of storing and preserving items indefinitely. However, a quick disclaimer: the capacity of the inventory function will scale accordingly to your level."

"Alright, not bad. So, do we get transmigrated into different bodies?" I inquired, hoping for a favorable response.

"Unfortunately, no. You'll still be using your current bodies from before your deaths," God replied, his tone carrying a hint of finality.

"Whatever... I suppose I could live with that," I muttered, resigned to the circumstances. "So, what about my magical abilities? Do I have any special cheats or talents?"

"Talent? Oh, please," God scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm I can sense a mile away. "Let's get real here, Kevin. Just because you're from another world and happened to kick the bucket in the most pathetic way possible doesn't mean you're entitled to special treatment. My benevolence isn't a holy grail, you know. Besides, I've got a budget to stick to. So, consider yourself lucky to get anything at all... Mortal," he retorted, his tone laced with unparalleled impertinence with a hint of amusement.

...

"I'll drop this crap right now..." I hissed, spittle flying in the direction of God's voice as I fought the compelling urge to unleash a string of profanities.

Howard simply shrugged, his blue eyes conveying a mixture of pity and smugness as he observed my utter defeat in the face of God's remarks.