Zephyrion awoke, gasping for breath. His muscles ached as he tossed off his bed covers to examine the changes to his body.

The evening chill made him shiver. His flesh was pink and without a single tuft of fur.

He was... human?

But he was whole.

His left eye, taken by his accursed half-brother-- that was returned to him.

His heart... pierced by his lover’s sword-- it pounded in his chest, crying out for vengeance.

That woman claimed to love him and only him. Yet... she lacked the courage to look into his eyes as he breathed his last.

But by the will of the goddess, Zephyrion yet lived.

To think he had to live his new life as a human-- a creature from a slave-race only suited for merchantry and low-level soldiering...

It was a trifling price. He lived. And those who stood against him would pay for their transgressions.

He’d awoken in a small box of a room. The previous owner of his body lived in filth and squalor, the floor covered in trash-- various containers stained with specks of rot. There were two doors and a covered glass window. A bed. Thin, flimsy books on a wooden shelf. A strange white box and other metal effects in a corner.

“Open status.”

A transparent blue screen appeared in front of his eyes. Zephyrion navigated his system menu... and tapped on the ⌈Support⌋ option.

⌈Frequently Asked Questions⌋

There, he found the answers to his most concerning problems.

⌈Return to Previous World⌋

There was a minimum level requirement, a thinly-veiled kindness of his mysterious system. He doubted he’d be able to survive the tribulations of his old world in his frail, base-level form.

To solve his other problem, Zephyrion selected the third option on the list.

⌈Unlock Memories⌋

He closed his eyes as the rush of information assaulted his senses.

The previous owner of his body was named Wang Erhu. It was a strange name-- different from the names of humans he’d met in the past. But it sounded strong.

Wang was a weakling, bullied by villains that relied on their status and connections. He was a joke-- a feeble-bodied human ceding to creatures of the same species with inconsequential advantages.

That would change. If Zephyrion was to live as Wang Erhu, he had to first overcome the conceived oppressions of his status and station. First, he would gain power. And with power, he’d gain connections. Then... he’d have to, once again, fight off all the would-be mates vying for heirs-- a song and dance in every world and every kingdom.

He doubted he could make a worse selection than the one he made in his previous life.

No matter the challenge before him, he would reign supreme-- for he was Zephyrion, Lord of the Raging Flame.

No-- he was Wang Erhu. And, with his new name, he would overcome even his past self.

Wang used his newly granted memories to bathe himself and dress in commoners’ attire, so not to elicit suspicion. His belly ached with hunger, but he had a magic card that he could use to requisition a meal.

The currency in his ‘bank account’ would sustain him for up to three suns. He could extend that time by reporting to his workplace in the morning, answering ‘phone calls.’ But he had no interest in returning to a lion’s den-- not without the strength to subjugate its alphas.

One or two delves-- then, his options would expand a hundred-fold. He’d be able to overpower and murder his oppressors. He’d be able to eat the meat of fattened calves. After a month, he’d have enough strength to take over any pride of his choosing.

“System,” he said. “Direct me to the nearest ⟦Dungeon⟧.”

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Wang Erhu walked the streets of the human city, Archangel. In his memories, there were hundreds of thousands of them living there-- but few of them walked during the evening.

He approached the strange building his system directed him to, noting the inconsistencies. Were all ⟦Dungeons⟧ so hidden in his new world? There were strange magics that shielded it from view, erected by runic scripts further hidden to the eye. If he hadn’t unlocked ⌈Mana Vision⌋ as one of his first abilities, he would have had to walk for entire suns longer.

But a hidden ⟦Dungeon⟧ meant the rewards for breaking its core would be vastly increased. He licked his lips as he stepped through the barrier.

And he was challenged.

A buxom human woman with dark skin and black hair held her hand out to stop him. She wore a uniform similar to the guards belonging to the human police force, yet wore an ominous snake pin on her left breast. A ‘security guard’?

“I don’t know you,” she said. “State your business. Or if you can answer one of my riddles... I might just look the other way.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“I have no time for this. Let me through or else.”

Wang opened his palms. As a human, he lacked meaningful claws, but according to his system, the level of the ⟦Dungeon⟧’s guardian was insignificant.

“What’s something freshly born and about to get his ass kicked?” the woman smiled.

Wang attacked. He struck the woman directly in the chin-- but he drew back his fist, throbbing with pain. The guard’s skin had transformed into smooth, black stone.

Magic?

“Inspect,” he growled under his breath. He flicked through the status screen. It was true that her level was low, but her species...

She wasn’t human.

Wang Erhu, you idiot. How did you not even know that non-humans existed in a city you’ve lived in your whole life?

The woman’s skin returned to its normal color, but she scampered off like a mouse.

Was she afraid? Good. He had yet to unlock his ⌈Intimidation Aura⌋ from his previous life, but even at a glance, a former king did not cater to mere prey.

Wang continued walking into the complex... but two other humans were approaching.

Dark clothes-- suits that marked them as professionals. Was the ⟦Dungeon⟧ already conquered? If they sought to prevent his entry, they were his enemies.

Both were taller than he. Both were men... and both were warriors. The first had a long, golden mane, his smooth face, free of scars. The second had a sharp gaze of a venomous snake.

Wang wanted to inspect their levels, but from the standing hairs on his neck, he already knew the current-him was outmatched. They had the scent of predators, especially the first.

“Howdy,” said the golden-maned warrior. “So our girl, Safiyya, said you might have one of ‘em ‘systems.’”

Wang felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. He wasn’t the only system user in Archangel. Each was another potential obstacle to him regaining his sovereignty.

“You’re desperate,” said the snake-eyed man, the stark glow of his golden eyes piercing through the dim light. “What do you hope to achieve by coming here?”

Wang grit his teeth. His instincts bade him to choose his words carefully.

However... he could not conceal his dignity-- the supreme and unwavering dignity of a Martial Emperor. Though he lacked physical strength, he knew the warriors in his midst would respect the strength of his spirit. Such was the way Zephyrion, Lord of Fire, lived his life. And so too, would the reborn Wang Erhu live each sun, forward.

“I need to grow stronger,” he said, “to right the wrongs committed against me.”

“Huh. Fair enough.” The golden-maned warrior turned to address the other. “I like this fella. But it sounds like he’s come fer ⌈Doma⌋. Whaddya think, Boss?”

Boss? So the silver-haired man was the alpha of their pack?

The snake-eyed man crossed his arms, hissing quietly.

“Tss... Merlin warned of a newborn transmigrator, their rise tumultuous to the status quo of our fair city.” He shook his head before turning on his heel. “Take care of it.”

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Wang Erhu awoke to the sound of a motor-- waves splashing as a boat cleaved through water.

His fractured ribs stabbed at his psyche as he struggled to breathe.

The golden-maned warrior broke his arms. He memorized that human’s face in grave detail. Only by killing him in front of his cubs and mate would he be able to return his insolence.

The current him lacked the strength, but the ebb and flow of power was never ceasing. He had his past life’s memories, his system, and an immortal body. His tumultuous rise was inevitable. And Archangel would be crushed beneath his paws.

Wang attempted to stand. He could not.

Calming himself, he examined his body.

He was blindfolded-- and even his mana-vision couldn’t pierce the strange material.

He was weighed down by cool iron chains... but his mouth was not bound.

“Who’s there? Release me, at once!”

An insidious and mocking laugh came as a response. “Ohoho... not too fast, vukodlak.”

A man was seated in front of him, his scent reeking of blood and cruelty, a warden in complete control of his prisoner's fate.

Wang struggled at his clinking chains, but to no avail. There were metal bands fastened around his biceps. The more he moved his body, the more the foreign magic sapped his strength.

“Know this, warden. Once I am free of these bonds, I will remember this slight.”

He still had 100 points to assign to his stats. He needed to raise his vitality in order to heal. And then, he’d slowly assign points to strength until he could break his chains.

He parted his lips, muttering breathlessly, “Open status screen.”

【 Your system cannot be accessed due to the interference of a higher power. 】

Wang felt his heart fall into the deepest pit of despair.

What?

How?

That... was... IMPOSSIBLE!!! How could ANYTHING interfere with a power granted to him by a GODDESS?!

“You are very strong vukodlak,” said the warden. “You die. You come back alive. But Miss Merlin give us chains. Ohoho-- we said we borrow them, but not giving back at end of day.”

“Hold on!” Wang said. “I demand a parley! I’ll serve in your army! The silver-haired man-- he can be overcome! I swear on my HONOR to serve my worth a hundred-fold!!”

His captor slowly leaned forward.

“I’ve lived a very long time in Archangel, boy. And there are two rules I will never break.” His breath stank of cheap alcohol as he whispered. “First: There’s one man in this city who you do not fuck with, no matter the circumstance. And second: If you think that man’s hair color is silver... none of the shit that comes out of your mouth matters.”

The man stood back up and raised his voice, his accent suddenly thick. “SO! --only one thing left saying!”

He snapped his fingers. The other passengers on the boat-- three in total, began to move.

“Mirno more.”