The ticking of the clock on the wall echoed through the dimly lit office, as monotonous and relentless as a hammer slowly nailing a coffin shut.
Miyamoto Masashi stared blankly at his computer screen.
The pale blue light of the monitor reflected in his hollow eyes, emphasizing the dark circles that haunted the thirty four year old's face.
The clock had just struck midnight, and Masashi was still buried in unfinished work.
The office had long been empty, leaving only the hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic tapping of keys, which was now beginning to falter.
He sat there, trapped between piles of documents and deadlines that seemed to have no end.
"How much longer am I supposed to work on these damn documents? That bastard of a boss is still forcing me to work overtime," he muttered.
"Does he not understand that employees aren't machines? We need a life too!"
As Masashi struggled to focus, his vision suddenly flickered.
The screen in front of him seemed to drift away, and the text on the documents began to blur like ink dissolving in water.
In an instant, Masashi collapsed.
His head hit the desk with a dull thud, followed by the sound of stationary sliding across the wood.
The computer screen remained lit, displaying the unfinished work, a silent testament to a life he never truly owned.
Miyamoto Masashi died alone in the office, surrounded by work that wasn't even entirely his.
Not on a battlefield.
Not in glory.
Just behind a desk.
Throughout his life, he had chased things he didn't even understand.
Top grades. A stable job. Recognition.
But in the end, all he found was exhaustion and solitude.
There was no family waiting for him.
No one to cry for him. Only the cold glow of the office lights.
'...If only...'
His consciousness slowly sank into the abyss.
'If I were given one more chance...'
A lingering, belated hope.
'I wouldn't live like this again...'
Then, everything went black.
It was a pathetic death for a man who only knew how to work, never getting the chance to have a wife or a sweet child of his own.
Then, suddenly...
COUGH!
His lungs felt like they were on fire. Masashi choked on a bitter liquid that smelled sharply of chemicals.
He forced his eyes open only to find himself lying on a filthy school bathroom floor. In his hand was an empty bottle of floor cleaner.
"Uh... where am I?" he croaked. His voice sounded strange, higher and much younger.
He caught his reflection in a cracked mirror.
He was no longer a salaryman in a rumpled suit. Instead, he saw a scrawny 17-year-old teenager with a face covered in bruises.
Foreign memories suddenly surged into his mind.
Amamiya Menma.
A loser at Okato High School who had just swallowed poison because he couldn't take the bullying anymore.
"So, I've ended up in this poor kid's body?" Masashi wiped the chemical residue from his lips.
Just as he tried to stand, the bathroom door was kicked open. Three teenagers with messy uniforms stormed in, laughing mockingly.
"Oi, Menma! Not dead yet?" shouted the leader, a blonde youth with ear piercings. "I heard you were going to kill yourself, but your guts really are trash!"
Masashi stared at them with a calm, piercing gaze. "Listen, I don't know what problem you have with this kid, but you should leave. I'm not in the mood to deal with you."
The bullies froze for a moment before bursting into louder laughter.
"What the hell are you talking about? Why are you talking like an old man?!"
Thud!
A heavy punch landed squarely in Menma's (Masashi's) stomach.
A flurry of attacks followed. Masashi tried to parry, but Menma's body was far too weak.
He felt like he was breaking.
His consciousness began to slip as his head was slammed against the porcelain wall.
'Am I... going to die again...?'
Just as his vision blurred, a cold, mechanical voice echoed in his brain.
[DING! STRONGEST DELINQUENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
[IDENTIFYING HOST: AMAMIYA MENMA (MIYAMOTO MASASHI)]
A transparent screen appeared before his eyes.
_____________________
PLAYER STATUS
Name: Amamiya Menma
Level: 1 (0/100 EXP)
Strength: 8
Speed: 8
Endurance: 10
Spirit: 21
Intelligence: 12
(An average person has 10 points in all attributes)
Free Attribute Points: 5
_________________________
[WELCOME GIFT: 5 FREE ATTRIBUTE POINTS. USE IMMEDIATELY!]
Masashi allowed a thin smile to spread across his bloodied face. 'A delinquent system, huh? That suits me just fine.'
Without hesitation, he allocated his points: Strength +2, Speed +2, Endurance +1.
Instantly, a wave of heat surged through his nerves. His muscles tightened like steel cables, his breathing grew light, and the world around him seemed to slow down.
The bruises didn't disappear, but the pain vanished.
"Hey, what are you smiling at?!" The blonde leader reared back for another punch.
Masashi rose with a lightning-fast motion.
He stood tall and caught the fist with one hand. His eyes were no longer those of a hesitant victim, but of a predator who had found its prey.
"Miyamoto Masashi is dead," Masashi whispered with an overwhelming aura. "From this moment on, call me Menma. And this... is the price for what you did to this body."
BAM!
Menma delivered a brutal punch to the blonde's face, sending him spiraling to the floor. Shocked to see their leader taken down by the ultimate loser, the other two lunged at Menma in a rage.
"You bastard! How dare you fight back! Die!" one of them screamed.
They managed to land hits, and Menma felt the sting. The body wasn't his, but the pain was real, and for the first time, he felt alive.
However, with his reinforced stats, he could weather the storm.
Menma threw a sharp kick into one boy's stomach, dropping him, then followed up with a heavy cross to the second boy's jaw. The impact sent the teenager reeling back into a bathroom stall door.
[DING! PASSIVE SKILL ACQUIRED: STREET FIGHTING]
Effects:
Increased combat adaptation*
Increased pain tolerance*
Dirty strikes are more effective*
Note: This skill evolves with experience.
The blonde leader scrambled up, swinging wildly.
Menma ducked under the swing and delivered a punishing low kick to his right calf.
"ARGH! Dammit! That hurts! What's with that kick, you prick?!" the blonde shrieked, clutching his leg.
Seeing the opening, Menma launched a powerful front kick to his chest, sending him crashing back down.
The first teenager recovered and swung at Menma's face.
The hit connected, momentarily dazing Menma.
Then the second boy kicked him in the ribs, knocking him to the floor. They began stomping on him relentlessly.
"Die, you piece of shit! Die!"
Cornered, Menma didn't hesitate. He grabbed the first boy's leg and bit down hard. The bully screamed in agony.
ARGH! Let go of me, you freak!
The blood in Menma's mouth only fueled his adrenaline.
With a powerful surge, he twisted his body on the floor, took the boy down, and locked him in a tight rear-naked choke.
Within seconds, the bully went limp and passed out.
Menma performed a technical stand-up, a move from his memories of watching MMA.
The last standing lackey was trembling.
He threw a desperate punch, but Menma's 10-point speed was too much. He ducked the swing and countered with a crushing uppercut to the jaw.
CRACK!
The boy staggered, his eyes glazed over.
Menma didn't stop.
He stepped in, grabbed the boy's neck, and drove his knee into his gut twice.
THUMP! THUMP!
The boy collapsed, retching, before hitting the cold tiles.
Finally, only the blonde leader remained, standing on shaky legs. He was pale, watching his friends get dismantled by the boy they used to call a loser.
"What are you?! What happened to you?!" he screamed, pulling a long metal ruler from his pocket and swinging it blindly.
Menma watched him like a predator. He waited for the ruler to miss, then closed the distance.
Jab! Straight! Low kick!
The combo was perfect.
The left distracted, the right broke the nose, and the low kick shattered the blonde's remaining composure.
KRAK!
The leader hit the floor hard. As he tried to crawl away, Menma's boot slammed onto his shoulder, pinning him.
Menma knelt down, looking into the blonde's terrified eyes. "Listen well. The real Amamiya Menma is dead. The one standing before you now is your nightmare."
He grabbed the leader's collar and slammed his head against the floor, knocking him out cold.
The bathroom fell silent again, save for Menma's heavy breathing. The system screen flickered.
[DING! BATTLE COMPLETE]
[RESULT: 3 DELINQUENTS DEFEATED]
[REWARD: 30 EXP OBTAINED (30/100)]
Menma stood up, straightening his blood-stained uniform. He looked in the mirror and wiped a smear of blood from his lip. He limped out of the bathroom, leaving the three bodies behind.
A new notification appeared.
[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE TAKEN THE FIRST STEP TO BECOMING THE STRONGEST DELINQUENT IN THIS CITY!]
[MISSION ISSUED!]
[FIRST MISSION: ASSEMBLE A CREW AND CONQUER OKATO HIGH]
[REWARD: ???]
Menma looked at his bloodied hands. In his previous life, he died as a loser behind a desk. In this life, he would stand at the peak, atop the bodies of those who tried to bring him down.
His boring life was over.
Now, he would write a new history with his fists in the brutal streets of Okayami.