Greg had always seen his life as one big letdown.
At 23, he was a hardcore NEET with zero job history.
He had ditched the idea of university because the bullying back in high school had left him too messed up to face more of that nonsense.
Instead, he spent his days holed up in his room, diving into video games and online worlds, far away from real people and their problems.
One afternoon, though, his stomach growled loud enough to pull him out of his cave.
He craved a simple hamburger, so he threw on some clothes and headed to the nearest fast-food spot.
On the way, he noticed a girl cornered by a bunch of high school punks.
They were leering at her, throwing crude jokes, and she looked terrified.
For the first time ever, Greg felt a surge of something brave.
He had never stuck his neck out for anyone, not even himself, but this time he stepped up.
"Hey, back off and leave her alone," he called out, trying to sound tough while holding up his hands.
The boys spun around, smirked, and started mocking him.
Before Greg could retreat, they swarmed him with fists and feet flying.
He hit the ground hard, curling into a ball to shield himself, but the blows kept coming.
Pain exploded everywhere, and his vision faded to black.
That single heroic act turned into his pathetic end, right there on the dirty sidewalk.
Everything went dark after that.
No bright lights or fiery pits, just an empty void that clung to him like a cold fog.
Greg drifted in it, his mind foggy and lost. If this is what forever looks like, I'll go nuts pretty quick, he thought, peering into the nothingness.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the silence, smooth and steady like a calm river.
"Oh, dear Greg, this isn't your eternal stop."
"Who's talking?" Greg asked, his words bouncing back in the emptiness.
"My identity isn't important right now," the voice replied. "What's key is that you're getting a shot at reincarnation."
"Reincarnation? You mean a do-over?" A small flicker of hope sparked in him.
"Yes, that's an option," the voice said. "Or you could stick around in this void if that's more your style."
"Hell no, sign me up for the reincarnation," Greg shot back, the thought of staying here scaring him stiff.
"Good call," the voice approved. "Just know you don't get to pick the specifics of your new setup."
"Hold on, what—" Greg began, but the voice interrupted.
"That's it for explanations. Have fun with your fresh start."
...
...
...
Greg stirred awake with a groan, his head throbbing like he'd been hit by a truck.
"Man, what a crazy dream," he mumbled, his throat scratchy and his brain fuzzy.
He reached up to rub his temple, but everything felt weird.
His voice came out higher and softer, not like his at all.
"Wait, what's wrong with my voice?" The panic hit him as he bolted upright.
Looking down, his eyes bulged.
There were small breasts pushing against a rough shirt, and his body looked leaner, more curved.
"Holy crap, this isn't right!" The feminine tone echoing from his mouth only ramped up the freak-out.
He started breathing fast, his new chest heaving.
That whole dying-and-reincarnating bit wasn't a dream at all.
"This has to be some sick joke," he whispered, clenching his fists until his nails bit into his palms.
Glancing around, he saw he was in a basic room with stone walls, a wooden bed, and simple furniture.
With a old-school stuff like a candle stub and a sword leaning against the wall.
His legs wobbled as he got up and crept to the door, peeking outside.
A courtyard buzzed with people in medieval gear: knights in clunky armor, women in flowing dresses, and even fantasy races like pointy-eared elves chatting with burly dwarves.
It slammed into him like a gut punch.
This wasn't Earth anymore.
It was a full-on fantasy realm, ripped straight from "Intertwined Hearts in the Court" that Eroge game he used to binge.
And worst of all, he was trapped in it, stuck inside the body of Christy, the boring knight character he had always skipped over!