As always the morning alarm rang at 7:00am, I got up took a shower and cooked myself some breakfast. I got in my uniform and headed out. I reached school in time and went over and took my seat starting the first period.
The bell rang, sharp and cruel.
I lowered my head before it even finished echoing through the classroom.
"Hey, novel freak."
The chair behind me scraped loudly. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. I could already feel it—the familiar knot in my stomach, the heat crawling up my neck.
A hand yanked the collar of my uniform.
"Didn't you hear me?" the boy sneered. "Or are you too busy imagining yourself as some hero again?"
Laughter followed. Not loud—never loud enough for the teacher to care—but sharp enough to sting.
I said nothing. I never did.
They liked that. Silence made it easy.
A shove sent me forward, my books scattering across the floor. Pages bent, covers scratched. Someone stepped on my novel before I could reach it.
"Still reading this garbage?" another voice mocked. "Heroes, demons, saving the world… grow up."
If only they knew.
I wanted to scream. To stand up. To shout that heroes weren't garbage—that they were hope. That they mattered.
But I stayed quiet, picked up my books, and returned to my seat.
Because in the real world, heroes didn't exist.
I got home and it was quiet. Too quiet.
No parents asking about my day. No siblings arguing over dinner. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the faint glow of my desk lamp.
I dropped my bag and collapsed onto my bed, pulling a worn novel from beneath my pillow.
The Hero of the Seven Kingdoms.
I'd read it more times than I could count.
A normal boy. Chosen by fate. Granted power. Saving people who couldn't save themselves.
"…If I had the chance," I whispered to the empty room, "I'd be a hero too."
Not for glory. Not for praise.
Just to matter.
To be needed.
To protect someone, even once.
Sleep came quickly, the book still open on my chest.
And then—
Darkness.
No dreams. No pain.
Just… nothing.
A thought drifted up from the void.
Did I die?
Strangely, I wasn't afraid.
Instead, excitement bubbled in my chest.
This is it, right?
The cliché start.
Truck-kun? A god? A voice explaining everything?
I smiled in the darkness.
I'll reincarnate as a hero. I'll get a sword, magic, a destiny. I'll save everyone.
Warmth spread through me.
Light exploded behind my eyelids.
I gasped.
Air burned my lungs, thick and heavy, like smoke mixed with iron. I sat up violently, heart pounding.
The world felt… wrong.
The ground beneath me wasn't a bed. It was stone—cold, uneven, and slick. The air glowed faintly red, lit by strange crystals embedded in jagged walls.
A cavern.
"No way…" I muttered.
I lifted my hands—and froze.
They were clawed.
Black skin stretched over powerful fingers, veins glowing faint crimson beneath the surface. My arms were thicker, covered in hardened plates like armor.
I scrambled to my feet, nearly tripping over my own legs.
They weren't human either.
Digitigrade. Taloned. Massive.
My breath came out in short, panicked bursts.
"This… this isn't right."
I ran toward a pool of dark liquid nearby and looked down.
A demon stared back at me.
Jet-black horns curved back from my skull. Eyes glowing a burning gold. Sharp fangs protruding from a mouth that definitely wasn't mine.
For a moment, my mind refused to accept it.
Then reality crashed down.
"I… I'm not a hero?"
A pressure slammed into my head.
Memories—foreign and violent—flooded my mind. Blood-soaked battlefields. Roars of monsters. Kneeling lesser demons. A name, heavy with fear.
Demon.
Not just any demon.
A high-ranking one.
"No. No, no, no—!" I staggered back, clutching my head. "This isn't how it's supposed to go!"
Heroes fought demons.
Heroes killed demons.
A sharp laugh echoed through the cavern.
Not mine.
From the shadows emerged a towering figure, wings folded, eyes glowing with malicious amusement.
"You've finally awakened," the demon said, kneeling on one knee. "My lord."
My stomach dropped.
"…Lord?"
The demon bowed his head lower introducing himself as Dix my advisor, then said.
"The Demon King's successor."
The words hit harder than any punch I'd ever taken.
Demon.
King.
Successor.
I thought of the heroes I'd admired. The stories I loved. The boy I used to be—bullied, powerless, dreaming of saving others.
And now—
"I wanted to be a hero," I whispered.
The cavern trembled as power surged through my body, raw and terrifying.
The demon smiled wider.
"In this world," he said, "heroes are your enemies."
I clenched my clawed hands, heart racing, remembering how my previous life treated me unfairly even now. Now I won't rely on miracles or destiny.
If this world had turned me into a demon—
Then fine.
"…Then I'll become a demon who decides his own fate."
Even if the whole world had to fear me for it.