Rain tapped steadily against the window of a small fourth–floor apartment, the quiet rhythm blending with the distant hum of traffic from the streets below.
Inside, the room was dim.A single desk lamp illuminated stacks of books, scattered cables, and an aging but powerful gaming computer.
The screen cast a cold blue glow across the face of a young man sitting in front of it.
Damien Raine adjusted his glasses slightly as his fingers moved rapidly across the keyboard and mouse. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were razor sharp—focused with an intensity that only appeared when he was playing.
On the monitor, chaos unfolded as explosions tore across a digital battlefield. Enemy players darted through ruined buildings and broken terrain but one figure moved through it all like a shadow.He was precise,efficient and unstoppable.Damien leaned slightly forward.
Three enemies left.
He could hear footsteps through his headset—faint but clear.A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Gotcha"
His character turned the corner and fired, landing a headshot. Another player tried to flank him but Damien anticipated it before it even happened. He turned landed another headshot before the player could even fire.
Only one opponent remained.
A frustrated voice suddenly burst through the voice chat.
"Are you kidding me?! How did you even know I was there?!"
Damien chuckled quietly.
"Lucky guess?"
On the screen, the final opponent appeared behind cover.Damien didn't even hesitate.In a few seconds, he had claimed victory.
The name at the top of the leaderboard glowed proudly:Black_Wolf.
The name had become legendary in competitive gaming circles.Whether tournaments, online championships, or esports competitions, Damien had won them all.
People speculated endlessly about him, with some called him a prodigy, while others insisted he had to be cheating, but none of them could ever prove it.Damien simply played as he always did and he had always won.
Yet despite the fame his username carried…his real life was painfully quiet.
Damien leaned back in his chair, stretching slightly as he glanced around the apartment, through his glasses.
The room wasn't messy, but it wasn't lively either.Just a shelve of books, a cheap couch,a small kitchen, a small bedroom and most of all...silence.
Old family photos of when he was a child with his parents decorated the walls.No messages buzzed on his phone and no voices filled the apartment.Damien exhaled slowly.
"Another win…and yet no one to even celebrate it with."
It had been 4 years since his parents died. The accident had taken everything at once, leaving him alone with a small inheritance that barely covered living expenses.His other relatives had left the country years ago before his parent's death and no one had heard of them since.
Ofcourse, his tournament winnings helped, but they weren't consistent.So he worked part-time at a quiet bookstore a few blocks away.It wasn't glamorous, but he liked books.To him, stories were easier than people.
Then suddenly—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Damien blinked.Someone was knocking at his door.He glanced at the clock.It read : 11:45 pm.
"This late?" he thought to himself.
He leaned toward the microphone.
"Hey, give me a minute," he told the person waiting in the next match lobby.
"Don't take too long," the other player replied. "I want my rematch."
Damien smirked.
"You mean your second defeat."
He removed his headset and stood up.The knock came again.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Damien walked toward the door slowly, but halfway there, he stopped.A strange feeling crept over him.It wasn't fear exactly but It was more like a quiet alarm ringing in the back of his mind.
Damien had always trusted his instincts and gaming had sharpened them.And right now…something felt wrong.He stayed a few steps away from the door.
"Who is it?" he asked.
There was a brief pause, before a voice answered from the other side.
"Room service."
Damien frowned immediately.Room service?He lived in an apartment building.There was no room service.
His instincts didn't calm down.He slowly pulled out his phone.If something weird happened, he could call the police instantly.
But then...the knocking stopped.Silence filled the hallway.
"That's strange."
For a moment he simply stood there.Then curiosity got the better of him.He slowly stepped closer to the door and leaned forward to look through the peephole, but the moment his eye reached it—
BANG!
The door exploded inward with terrifying force.Damien didn't even have time to react.
The hinges snapped instantly as the entire door slammed into him.
The impact knocked the air out of his lungs and sent him crashing backward onto the floor.Pain shot through his back as the broken door landed on top of him.
Before he could even think, three masked men rushed into the apartment and each of them held a gun.Damien's heart dropped into his stomach.
"Shit"
One of the men stepped forward.
"Well well…" the man said mockingly.
"So this is where the famous Black_Wolf lives."
Damien froze.
They knew who he was.
"How—"
The man chuckled.
"You gamers think you're anonymous online don't you? Well news flash,there's something called tracking"
"You've won a lot of tournaments."
The gun pointed directly at Damien's face.
"And that means…"
"A lot of money."
Damien's mind raced.There were three armed men and nowhere to run.
"Think," he told himself.
The leader smirked.
"If you want to live…"
"Hand over all your money and valuables."
Damien slowly raised his hands.
"Alright," he said calmly.
"I'll give it to you."
Inside his mind, calculations ran rapidly.
Three armed opponents and one of him.
But Damien had spent years thinking about worst-case scenarios.Living alone forced him to.Which was why his apartment wasn't as defenseless as it looked.
He slowly stood up and took a few steps backward toward his desk.
His fingers brushed against a rope tied to the grommet hole in the desk.
He quickly untied it with his fingers.
Suddenly—
A heavy box full of stones dropped from a hole in the ceiling.
One of the criminals barely had time to react before he was hit on the head by the box containing the stones and slammed violently onto the floor. Unconcious.
"What the—?!"
The leader turned in shock.
But Damien didn't waste the opportunity.
He kicked the support leg of a nearby shelf, making it tilt, then collapsed.
Several heavy boxes filled with books crashed directly onto the second criminal.
The man screamed as the weight knocked him down and pinned him as he went unconcious.
For a brief moment…
Only the leader remained standing.
Damien sprinted toward the wall where there was a switch.
One more trap.
Just one more—
BANG!
The gunshot exploded through the apartment.
Josh felt something slam into his body.
A burning pain spread through his chest.
His legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground.
The leader lowered his gun slowly.
"Well look at that."
"You almost had me."
Josh tried to stand.
His body refused.
Blood spread across his shirt.
So this is what getting shot feels like…
The criminal walked over and kicked him hard.
Josh groaned.
"Gaming champion, huh?"
Kick.
"Trap genius, huh?"
Kick.
"Still just a loser in the end."
Josh clenched his teeth.
He refused to scream.
Eventually the man got bored.
"Pathetic."
He turned away and began stealing valuables from the apartment.
Josh's vision blurred.
His breathing grew shallow.
So this is it…
Dying in my own apartment.
Not exactly heroic.
After several minutes, the criminal walked back.
But Josh was gone.
The man frowned.
"…Huh?"
He slowly turned around.
CRACK!
A baseball bat smashed directly into his face.
The criminal collapsed instantly.
Josh dropped the bat.
His body trembled violently.
He fell to his knees as blood poured from the gunshot wound.
The room spun around him.
"So…"
Josh whispered weakly.
"This is how I die…"
The floor beneath him slowly faded.
Darkness swallowed everything.
He felt like he was falling.
Endlessly falling into a cold void.
Then a voice echoed through the darkness.
Soft.
Gentle.
"I won't let you die."
Josh tried to speak.
But the darkness consumed him.
…
…
When he opened his eyes again—
Four unfamiliar faces stared down at him.
A man.
A woman.
And two small girls.
All smiling.
Josh blinked slowly.
The man had dark hair, a thick moustache, and bright blue eyes.
The woman beside him had long white hair and soft green eyes.
The two girls looked identical—twins with dark hair and green eyes.
They looked about four years old.
Josh stared at them in confusion.
Where… am I?
The man suddenly laughed with excitement.
"Vanessa! He looks just like you!"
The woman smiled warmly.
"Yes you're right.He really does."
Josh's mind raced.
What is going on?
He tried to move.
But his body felt…
Small.
Weak.
The man leaned closer.
"He's looking right at us!"
"What a cute little boy"
Josh was really confused.
His thoughts crashed together as memories resurfaced.
The gunshot.
The blood.
The darkness.
The voice.
His eyes widened.
Wait…
Don't tell me…
Did I die?
Slowly, horrifyingly, the truth began to settle in.
A new body.
Unknown people.
A completely different place.
Josh's mind formed a single conclusion.
I…
I think i might have been transmigrated.
End of Chapter 1