Everything was dark. Silent. As if the world had paused.
Then, suddenly—light.
Akira opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the bright glow surrounding him. The ground beneath him felt cold and smooth, made of a material he couldn't recognize. He sat up with effort, pressing a shaky hand to his temple.
— Ugh… my head…
The last thing he remembered was collapsing into bed after binge-watching JoJo's Bizarre Adventure from start to finish. Every part. No breaks. No water. No bathroom.
— Okay, yeah… that was dumb.
He looked around, trying to understand where he was. A blank space. No walls. No sound. Until a voice rang out, clear and artificial—like some kind of AI assistant.
[Welcome to the Help System.]
Akira flinched.
— Whoa—who's there?
The voice didn't come from anywhere specific—it was just there, as if it was part of the air itself.
[Host, you passed away from exhaustion in your previous life. As a result, you've been selected for the Life Rehabilitation Program: the Help System. Congratulations.]
— ...Congratulations? I died from watching anime and you're congratulating me?!
[Dying with passion is a privilege few achieve.]
Akira groaned, dragging his hands down his face.
— This has to be a dream. A weird lucid dream.
[Incorrect. This is a transition space between your former life and the new one. You will soon be transferred into your new body.]
His head was spinning. Too much to process. New life? A system? Reincarnation?
Sure, he liked isekai stories... but this? This felt way too real.
[Would you like to import the memories of your new body?]
— ...Do I have a choice?
[No.]
— Of course.
The moment he accepted, the pain hit him like a sledgehammer. Akira cried out and dropped to his knees, clutching his chest as a flood of memories tore through his mind. Empty classrooms. Quiet meals. Instant noodles. A funeral. Loneliness. Held-back tears.
— What a sad life…
He gasped, trying to catch his breath. Now he understood.
Akira Kurosawa. Same name. Different body. A seventeen-year-old high school student. Shy. Isolated. Recently orphaned. No friends. No support.
His room… his life… it was like looking into a darker reflection of his own.
Akira closed his eyes for a moment.
— Rest in peace, man. I'll take care of this life better than I did my last.
[Soul transfer complete. Basic system functions now activating.]
A translucent blue screen appeared before him, glowing softly in the air.
HELP SYSTEM• Status• Self-Help• Helping Others (Locked)
Akira squinted.
— "Self-Help"? What is this, therapy with loot boxes?
[The system is designed to guide the Host through personal growth. The "Self-Help" tab includes daily tools to support a more balanced and productive life.]
He tapped it out of curiosity. Three options appeared:
Self-Help:• Monthly Lucky Spin• Weekly Gift• Daily Missions
[It is recommended to begin with the Weekly Gift and Monthly Spin.]
— Why not?
With a hesitant touch, Akira opened the Lucky Spin. A massive roulette wheel appeared in front of him, spinning automatically. The segments were labeled with things like "+Charisma," "Programming Skill," "¥500,000," and even "Mystery Pet."
— This feels like a mobile gacha game…
The wheel began to slow… then stopped.
[Congratulations! You have obtained the skill: Business Boss.]
— Huh… what's that do?
[Business Boss: Enhances your ability to manage businesses, identify profitable ventures, and lead with confidence.]
— Wait, I got a CEO skill?
For a second, he laughed. For the first time since waking up in this strange place, he felt a spark of hope.
[Weekly Gift unlocked. You received ¥500,000 + 50% Welcome Bonus. Total: ¥750,000.]
His eyes widened.
— I'm… rich?!
But that joy faded quickly. Akira Kurosawa lived alone now. No parents. Probably worked part-time just to survive.
— ...Yeah. I guess I'll really need that money.
[Host will be transferred to body in 3… 2… 1…]
The light around him flared again, growing stronger and stronger.
Right before it swallowed him completely, Akira whispered to himself:
— New life. New chance. New me.
He took a deep breath.
— I'm going to make this one count.
And then—everything disappeared.