A New Life

Chapter 1: Transmigrated? Really?

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...so... I'm dead."

"...ah yes. I do apologize."

The awkward silence is killing me.

"You are dead. How can you die twice without getting revived before the second death?"

"That was a paraphrase, you dummy." I rolled my eyes. "Seriously. I know I'm dead, but WHY I have to suffer this silence is the problem. Really, don't you have something to tell or to do?"

To recount, I am dead. My dead was neither heroic, like saving someone, or cliche, like getting hit by Truck-sama. No. It was pure, utter accident that I was struck by lightning. I knew that I should use raincoat instead umbrella. Less dangerous, that way, but oh well. Bad Luck can come in any form, I guess.

...then turns out it wasn't a mere Bad Luck. But Divine-Intervention-Grade Bad Luck. Courtesy of this bastard.

"Again, I do apologize." This Bastard, the God of Underworld of whatever religion he come form, bowed slightly. What pissed me was his deadpan look. As if he has no care in the world. "I was having a terribly bad year."

Wait. Bad YEAR? Does that mean his days had gone from bad to Universe-Shitfest for whole frigging year and just earlier he had reached his boiling point? That... that took patience. I can't help but impressed.

"Thank you."

Yeah, yeah, welcome. "So... what now? I can't just back to live, can I?"

"Considering your body was one step away from becoming a human-shaped flesh-coal, no." The God shook his head. "You will reincarnated in another world."

Meh. Figures. Cliche thing like in fanfiction and light novels.

At least I got warning beforehand rather than dumped in god-know-where world with nothing but Protagonist's Plot Armor and EX-Rank Charm on top with (sometimes) OP power—wait a minute.

"What kind of world?"

"...to use your term, a Fantasy-style world."

"Magic?"

"Magic."

Hoo boy.

"Please don't give me Overpowered Magic, like ALL of the elements available, or the ultra rare Magic like once-in-thousand-year-prophecy-alert kind of rare. Or overpowered body that can do the impossible without Training From Hell."

If I ever want to make a name, then by all means, I'll do it the old way. By struggling and inventing crazy-but-debatable-brilliant ideas like anyone else. Otherwise I feel like lazy cheater who got it all in golden plate. That would kill my IQ and bores me to death.

He looked at me, and then nodded. "...a peculiar request, but very well."

He then do something that caused my body to start glowing. Not unlike Servants from Fate series does when they were about to return to Throne of Heroes. Hmm... this is quite something. Hope I can remember this cuz you don't experience this everyday.

Speak of experience...

"I never got your name."

He look startled. "Ah..." Was he shuffling his weight awkwardly? What is he? A shut-in with low score on Social Clue? "My name... is Noir."

Noir. Black. Nice name.

"Ah.... thank you?"

...he turns sakura pink. What? Isn't like I say something weird. Noir is a nice name and suit his night dark hair perfectly.

Come to think of it... I can't see him well since the room is dimly lit. Fitting for Underworld even if too depressing. And he's wearing hood to boot. But I can tell from his posture that he is young-looking and quite a looker. Shame. Why hid such a face when it's good looking?

"P-please stop talking..."

Now he's strawberry red all way to ears... and was that smoke?

Huh. Weird.

~X~

I blinked.

The boy before me blinked.

I raised my left hand, and he raised his right hand. Mirroring my action.

Maybe it's because he is my reflection.

A ten years old child. How funny. I think I was at least eighteen. Pretty sure my eyes are in different color, too. And never before I wear this expensive and cool clothes only nobility or extremely rich people wore.

But part of me insist that I have always been like this. That I haven't reach eleven years old, let alone eighteen. That my eyes color had always been in this color. And that I always wore this kind of clothes.

Huh. I wonder why.

It feels like I just woke up from a very long dream, and I find it difficult to tell which is reality, which is the dream. Okay. *Pinch* Yeouch. Hurt. Alright. So I am not dreaming. I am truly ten and probably rich kid.

Hm. So where did that part of me come from? The one that insisting I am just an ordinary teenager from well off but not rich family? Granted both part of me agree that I am such a calm and rather odd boy compares to kids on my age (whatever age, that is), and I tends to blurt my thought out loud, especially when I was irritated.

Huffing, I sat on my luxury, soft bed and thinking.

Let's made a list.

Who am I?

Where am I?

How did I end up here?

Three major question that will define my future. Let's start from the easiest. Number #2: Where am I?

Based from the surrounding, I was in a rich boy bedroom. When I said rich, I mean the likes of old nobility from UK Royal Family or Medieval-lover kind of rich bedroom. The touch of medieval era and very little of modern era. Looking from the tall window, it was in mansion that certainly NOT in Japan... or any country on earth.

The Moon wasn't THAT shade of yellow-ish gold, after all. And the sky was too clear to be in 21st century, unless I am in middle of nowhere, somewhere that no tech had touch.

So... other world. Probably.

Question #3: How did I end up here?

As I wake up at the bed, meaning I was put here. I am not sneaking in whatsoever... maybe. Hopefully. I read from various story (and watch from TV Drama) that rich people was so damn complicated and likes to overcomplicated trivia things. I can live WITHOUT the drama, thank you. Watching soap opera might be amusing way to passing time. Involved in said soap opera? Oh HELL NO!

That aside, no clue how I end up here, or where is it... except for the drawing in the wall. Wait. No. Not drawing. A Family Crest. Like royal Royal family Crest from actual old era nobility.

I hope the rank isn't too high.

KNOCK KNOCK CLAAAAAK

I turned around as the door opened by itself, and a maid (complete with french maid dress... even if sophisticated much to my relief) walked in. She was... nice, to say. Not too pretty, but not ugly or plain either. So-so.

"Master, the bath is ready."

I looked around. Only me and her so... she calls me Master?

"Okay."

Okay. It made sense. The state when I am wake up, the reflection of me-but-not-quite-me, and overlapping memory. Now everything become so obvious.

Okay.

There's only one answer to my problem.

I'm transmigrated.

At least I realize it when I'm almost pre-pubescent rather than straight out from birth. That would be total torture and humiliation and source of trauma I can't explain without sounding like lunatic.

...wonder how dare I forgot it. That God did warn me, after all.