Shoda pushed himself up slowly, coughing as damp earth clung to his clothes. His hands trembled—not from injury, but from confusion.
The sky above him was wrong.
No city glow.
No power lines.
No distant hum of traffic.
Just clouds drifting across an unfamiliar horizon.
"…Okay."
He stood, brushing mud from his jacket. His sneakers were ruined.
"This is new."
The road beneath him wasn't asphalt. It was uneven, rough—pressed dirt hardened by wagon wheels. Tall wooden structures stood in the distance, their architecture nothing like the glass towers of Tokyo.
People walked past him.
But they weren't dressed in suits.
Or hoodies.
Or uniforms.
Long cloaks. Leather belts. Steel bracers. Fabric dyed in deep, natural colors. Some carried weapons openly at their hips as if that were normal.
Shoda blinked.
"…Where am I?"
A deep pulse throbbed behind his eyes.
Not sharp.
Not unbearable.
Just… present.
A whisper brushed the inside of his skull.
I love you.
He flinched.
"Not now," he muttered, pressing a hand to his temple.
The sensation faded.
He inhaled slowly.
Alright.
Calm down.
Bus. Impact. Fog. Chair. Red aura.
"…That wasn't a coma."
He turned slowly, scanning the street again.
Different races.
Not just humans.
He froze.
Across the road, a tall man with ash-gray skin and curved horns was bargaining with a merchant. Further down, someone with pointed ears and silver hair laughed softly while examining fruit.
No one seemed alarmed.
No one seemed confused.
Only him.
His breathing quickened.
He looked down at himself—mud-stained hoodie, modern jeans, cracked phone screen still in his pocket, though lifeless now.
He swallowed.
"Don't panic."
Then—
His eyes widened.
"…Wait."
Transported to another world.
His chest tightened.
His heartbeat quickened.
Then something else happened.
Excitement.
Pure, electric excitement.
A grin slowly stretched across his face.
"No way."
He turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.
"This is it."
He pointed at himself dramatically.
"Iwamoto Shoda. Seventeen. Former shut-in."
He clenched his fist.
"Future hero."
A few pedestrians stared.
He ignored them.
"I'll master magic. Slay monsters. Save kingdoms. Defeat the Demon Lord—"
He paused.
"…There is a Demon Lord, right?"
Silence.
He coughed awkwardly.
"Details later."
Shoda marched toward the nearest group of townspeople.
"Excuse me!" he said brightly. "Where exactly am I? Which world is this?"
They stared at him.
Then walked around him.
He blinked.
"…Okay."
He tried again.
"Hi! Quick question! What's the name of this kingdom? And is there a guild I should register at?"
Nothing.
One man gave him a strange look—half irritation, half suspicion.
Shoda forced a charming smile.
"Love the medieval aesthetic, by the way."
The man grabbed his arm.
Hard.
Shoda's smile twitched.
"Ah. Personal space?"
Another man stepped closer. Broad shoulders. Scar across his cheek. The kind of presence that didn't need to speak loudly.
They looked him up and down.
Modern clothes. Strange speech. No insignia. No visible weapons.
Outsider.
"Wait, wait," Shoda said quickly. "Misunderstanding. I'm new here. Very new. Like five-minutes-ago new."
The first punch came without warning.
His vision exploded in white.
He hit the ground again—this time not by magic.
Boots struck his ribs.
Air vanished from his lungs.
Blood rushed from his nose
Face swelled
"Wrong district to wander into, freak," someone muttered.
Shoda curled instinctively, arms shielding his head.
"Okay—okay—hero start—little rough—"
Another kick.
Pain flared sharp and real.
Not like the fog.
Not like the bus.
This hurt.
He tasted blood.
The world spun.
And somewhere in the back of his mind—
Faintly—
I love you.
His grin faded.
For the first time since arriving…
A thin thread of unease tightened in his chest.
Good.
Now we shift from "fun isekai fantasy" to your real story.
This is where tone changes.
I'll continue Chapter 1 properly and smoothly into the first reset.
---
Chapter 1 — A World Without Neon (Part 2)
Shoda lay on his back for a long time after the beating.
The sky above Astrae looked wider than Tokyo's ever had.
No wires cutting across it.
No aircraft trails.
Just clouds drifting lazily as if nothing in the world was urgent.
"…Great start, hero," he muttered.
He rolled onto his side and forced himself upright. Every rib protested. His lip throbbed. His pride hurt worse.
He stumbled toward a stack of wooden crates near a fruit stall and sat down heavily.
"Ohhh… I never knew another world would be this cruel," he groaned. "It's worse than my hometown."
"Hey!"
The voice was sharp and irritated.
"Get off that crate, brat! You're blocking my stall!"
Shoda looked up.
A stout merchant with a thick beard and stained apron glared at him.
"You're scaring customers looking like that. Bleeding all over my merchandise."
Shoda blinked, then quickly straightened his posture.
"Oh! Mister kind and gentle sir," he said, forcing politeness. "My apologies. I seem to be… mildly displaced from reality. Could you perhaps inform me where I am?"
The merchant stared at him.
"…You hit your head?"
"Possibly."
The man sighed dramatically.
"You're in Astrae. Kingdom of Nordovia. One of the Four Great Kingdoms. Been standing for centuries. Try not to die in the streets. It's bad for business."
Astrae.
Nordovia.
Four Great Kingdoms.
Shoda nodded seriously, committing the names to memory.
"Thank you," he said with a sudden grin. "When I become a hero, I'll bring you more customers."
The merchant blinked.
"…What?"
But Shoda was already jogging away.
He didn't get far.
The adrenaline that had been holding him upright drained all at once. His legs wobbled. His vision swam.
He tripped flat onto the dirt road.
"Okay," he muttered weakly. "Still adjusting."
Hooves approached.
A carriage rolled to a stop beside him.
Polished wood. Silver trim. Royal crest etched into the door.
The window slid open.
And a girl leaned out.
Silver-white hair that caught the sunlight. Clear blue eyes filled with concern.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Shoda forgot how to breathe.
He stared.
She was… unreal.
Like something drawn too perfectly.
"Uh—h-hello," he stammered. "Nice to… meet…"
She opened the carriage door before he could finish and stepped down onto the road without hesitation.
Up close, she looked even brighter.
She reached down and took his arm.
"Can you stand?"
He blinked rapidly.
"A lady shouldn't—uh—shouldn't be doing such heavy lifting," he protested automatically.
She frowned.
"That's a strange thing to say."
And then—
She pulled him up effortlessly.
Not struggled.
Not strained.
Effortlessly.
As if he weighed nothing.
Shoda froze.
"…You're strong."
She looked mildly surprised.
"Well, I suppose."
Before he could process that answer—
A shadow fell over them.
"Lady Elmira."
The voice was firm. Controlled.
A tall knight with striking red hair approached. His armor gleamed, pristine and well-crafted. A sword rested at his hip.
"Your father is expecting you."
Elmira turned slightly. "Just a moment."
The knight's eyes shifted to Shoda.
Assessment.
Modern clothes. Injured. Hand on the princess.
His gaze sharpened instantly.
Shoda felt it.
The shift.
From neutral to hostile.
"Ah," Shoda said awkwardly. "Hello, sir knight. Very cool armor, by the way. Huge fan."
The knight stepped closer.
Elmira's hand was still holding Shoda's arm.
Too close.
Too familiar.
His hand moved to his sword.
Fast.
Shoda barely had time to register the motion.
A flash of steel.
A sharp cold line across his neck.
For a brief second—
Nothing hurt.
Then warmth spread down his chest.
The world tilted.
Elmira's eyes widened.
The sky spun.
Shoda collapsed.
He couldn't breathe.
His fingers reached toward his throat instinctively.
Wet.
Too wet.
Why was it so warm?
He tried to speak.
No sound came out.
The last thing he saw was Elmira's horrified expression.
Then—
Darkness.
---
"…You're in Astrae. Kingdom of Nordovia…"
Shoda blinked.
The merchant stood in front of him.
"…One of the Four Great Kingdoms. Been standing for centuries…"
Shoda froze.
He was sitting on the crate.
Uninjured.
The merchant was mid-sentence.
"…Try not to die in the streets."
Shoda's heart stopped.
He slowly looked down.
No blood.
No cut.
No pain.
His breathing quickened.
"Where am I you wait you "
The merchant frowned. "What?"
Shoda's hands began to shake.
"DID I No it cant "
The merchant waved him off. "You kids and your dramatics—"
Shoda stumbled off the crate, backing away.
The carriage hadn't arrived yet.
The street was exactly as it had been.
Every detail identical.
The wind.
The people.
The sounds.
His pulse pounded violently in his ears.
It worked.
It actually worked.
Anastasia.
The fog.
The snap.
I love you.
His stomach dropped.
This wasn't just another world.
This was—
A loop.
And only he remembered.