Chapter 1: Rebirth in an Unfamiliar World

Kurozaki Ryouma’s first sensation upon waking wasn’t pain, nor was it the disorienting vertigo of having been ripped away from his previous life. No, it was silence. A deep, unnatural stillness that seemed to stretch on forever.

His eyes snapped open, his breath hitching in his throat as the world around him slowly pieced itself together. The soft rustle of leaves, the occasional chirp of unseen creatures, and the distant hum of water trickling from somewhere beyond his immediate sight—the world wasn’t silent. It was alive, but somehow muted, as if muffled by a thick fog that hadn’t quite lifted.

Ryouma pushed himself upright, his hands brushing against the damp earth beneath him. The ground was soft, almost spongy, and the scent of fresh, untouched nature flooded his senses. His vision was blurry at first, his mind fogged with confusion. It wasn’t just the fog of the forest—it was his own mental haze.

“Where the hell...?” His voice came out hoarse, rough. Was he even dead? He had assumed death would be the end. But this... this didn’t feel like it.

He staggered to his feet, knees creaking and stiff. The world swam into focus as his eyes scanned his surroundings. A vast, lush forest stretched endlessly in every direction, towering trees with trunks wide enough to swallow a man whole. Their leaves formed a canopy so thick that only slivers of sunlight pierced through, creating a mosaic of golden beams across the forest floor. The air was heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth, but there was a strange, almost surreal beauty to it all. This place, despite its serene appearance, felt... alien.

His gaze fell upon the small clearing he had woken in. Near the edge of the forest was a pristine, crystal-clear pond, the water shimmering under the shafts of sunlight that made their way through the canopy. The surface was as smooth as glass, reflecting the untouched beauty of the world around it.

“What the hell is this? Am I dreaming?” Ryouma muttered, voice full of irritation as he turned away from the pond. He had no fucking clue where he was. Last thing he remembered, he was dying, or at least, he thought he was. His body had been mangled, torn apart by some twisted bastard in his past life. But this? This wasn’t death. No, this was something... worse, in its own way.

He cursed under his breath, lifting his hand to his face. His hair, as black as the night itself, fell over his eyes, messy and uneven as usual. Nothing new there. But the rest of his body felt strange—no longer weak, no longer broken. He should’ve been decaying somewhere, not standing in the middle of... whatever this was.

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Before he could ponder it further, his gaze fell on something beside him, half-buried in the dirt. It was a leather bag, oddly pristine despite its obvious journey through the forest. He knelt down and grabbed it without much care, yanking the straps open. Inside, a heavy weight made his heart skip. Gold coins—too many to count in a single glance—shone up at him. The damn thing was stuffed full of them.

“Gold? Really?” He barked a laugh, his mood soured instantly. He didn't want to deal with this shit. He didn’t want to deal with anything right now. "This some kind of joke?"

He tossed the bag aside, but it didn’t matter. His mind wasn’t on the gold—it was on the confusion gnawing at him. Then, as if the universe itself was tired of his grumbling, a screen popped up in front of his eyes, flickering to life like some sick joke.

[Status]

* Name: Kurozaki Ryouma

* Race: Human

* Class: None

* Level: 1

[Skills]

* [Void Step]: Ability to move silently and without a trace. Allows teleportation across short distances.

* [Hollow Aura]: Emits an aura that suppresses the will of others in a small radius. Weak-willed individuals may be paralyzed by its effects.

* [Cursed Rebirth]: Immunity to poison, toxins, and extreme environments. Regenerates slowly from fatal wounds.

* [Apocalyptic Strike]: A devastating physical attack that channels a burst of pure destructive force. Can tear through armor and flesh alike.

“Wait... what the fuck?” Ryouma's voice was a low growl of disbelief. He glared at the screen, his head pounding with frustration. “Skills? Seriously? What the hell is this? Some kind of RPG bullshit? Void Step? Cursed Rebirth? What the fuck kind of crap is this?”

He was used to being thrown into hellholes in his past life. He was used to betrayal, to pain, to death, but this? This felt like he had been shoved into a nightmare straight out of a kid’s storybook. Magic? Abilities? None of this was real. He’d seen too much to believe in any of this fantasy bullshit.

But as he stared at the menu that refused to go away, something strange tugged at the back of his mind.

“Wait... this isn’t real,” he muttered to himself. “This is... this is real.”

Ryouma clenched his fist and let out a guttural curse, his eyes narrowing in anger as a rush of adrenaline filled his veins. This was his reality now.

“Fuck this,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. He could feel the familiar emptiness gnawing at his soul again. No, he wasn't going to play any hero, he wasn't going to give a damn about this godforsaken world. He just wanted to be left the hell alone.

The world around him was beautiful, undeniably so, but Ryouma didn’t care. Beauty was just another form of distraction. And he wasn’t interested. All he wanted now was silence and solitude. Nothing more.

But as the sun dipped lower behind the towering trees, he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Magic, monsters, and gods, whatever the hell was coming next—he’d have to deal with it. And when the time came, he’d cut through everything standing in his way. Just as he always had.

Because one thing was for sure: no matter what, he was going to keep moving forward.

And if anyone tried to stop him... they’d be dead. (Hello World)