"Can you hear me? Can you see me?"
That face was so close, it was almost brushing against Hanyu Genichi's nose.
But what was spilling out was not breath, but a chill, rotting dampness, rising up from the depths of the sea like the mud of the abyss.
Through the tangle—an undulating mass of intertwined tentacles—there were two deep, pitch-black holes. If those were eyes, then those eyes were fixed on him, just centimeters away.
At the very least, there was no vocal apparatus that a human could comprehend. Yet, the sound—like a whisper from underwater—echoed with a strange resonance, flowing directly into his mind.
The voice carried a sick, obsessive tone, or perhaps the cruel rules of some game. It repeated, again and again:
"Can you see me? Can you see me?"
A spasm wracked Hanyu Genichi's stomach. His throat clenched. Adrenaline pumped furiously through his veins, and his heart thudded, as if ready to burst through his ribcage.
Yet, outwardly, his facial muscles stayed frozen—empty and hollow, a mask of vacant calm.
His gaze slid past the indescribable form before him and locked onto the shining white sign at the distant entrance of a convenience store—as if that sign was some masterpiece worthy of intense study.
He even controlled his eyeballs, making certain not to tremble, not allowing his pupils to contract in fear. Though his lungs screamed for a deep breath, he forced himself to breathe slowly, steadily.
Lifting a hand, he rubbed his slightly itchy nose in a relaxed, natural manner—as if nothing at all stood before him.
Then he began to walk in a distracted, tired way, the way he usually walked home from school, keeping to the sidewalk.
He could feel that cold, formless gaze stabbing into his back as he walked.
For several steps, the chilling, soul-freezing question kept echoing, almost like background noise:
"Can you see me... Can you see me..."
Only after several seconds did that malevolent attention finally evaporate.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a blur—a distorted, wavering shadow shifting away, almost like black oil on the wind, drifting in an unnatural way toward a nearby pedestrian engrossed in their phone with headphones on.
The faceless entity pressed its visage close to its new victim, and the interrogation began anew.
Only then did Genichi's tensed nerves loosen—just a little. But the sense of crushing terror and absurdity rose up again, rooting his feet in place.
It's already been a year since I reincarnated into this crossover world of peaceful anime and manga, he thought.
At first, I was lost, maybe even excited, but now... I'm gradually getting used to this fusion of slice-of-life anime and manga's peaceful, mundane world.
He considered himself lucky—winning a ticket for easygoing, casual time travel.
No wars. No special powers. No do-or-die system missions threatening to erase you unless you accomplish the impossible. Just youth, school, beautiful girls, and ordinary, peaceful days.
Up until two weeks ago, he couldn't "see" them.
At first it was just a blurry shadow, a warped figure on a street corner, or a pallid face flitting past his midnight window.
He thought it was just a side effect of too many late-night manga binges.
The more often he saw them, the clearer and more distinct—and menacing—they became.
Until finally, he had no choice but to face the horrifying truth:
He possessed the terrifying talent of seeing things invisible to ordinary people in this world—vengeful spirits, or even unspeakable Lovecraftian abominations that violated all human aesthetics and logic.
These entities wandered through every corner of the city, persistently asking living humans:
"Can you see me?"
He remembered works he'd read in his previous life. He knew the rules: pretend not to notice, and they'd usually lose interest and wander away. But if they realized he'd truly seen them, he'd trigger a horror beyond imagination.
It was a deadly game of hide-and-seek between life and death. And he had been thrown onto the stage totally unprepared.
He had neither exorcist abilities nor resistance.
He was just a regular high schooler, his soul that of an adult from another world at best.
This spiritual vision was not a gift—it was a curse, a guillotine hovering overhead, ready to fall at any moment.
"Damn it..."
He gritted his teeth inwardly, digging his nails into his palm—the pain steadied him in pretending to stay calm.
A wave of deep, unwilling resentment coursed through him like poison in his blood.
Time traveler! I'm a time traveler! Even if I'm not the protagonist of a cheat-filled shounen, shouldn't I get some kind of benefit?
And what did I get in the end? Sent to a world that only looks normal, but is actually a supernatural horror set—granted the ability to see ghosts with no perks, only risk?
What kind of insult is this for a time traveler?
He loosened his white-knuckled grip, seeing deep red crescent marks in his palms.
One deep breath. And another. Don't panic. Don't expose yourself.
At least, he thought, compared to Miko Yotsuya, I'm more mentally prepared, more adult about this.
He tried to console himself with that thought, but it didn't help much. (Miko is from Mieruko-chan anime.)
Acting as if nothing was wrong, he continued walking to his rented apartment.
The setting sun cast long shadows over the buildings. People hurried down the street, everything bathed in the gentle glow of a normal day.
Only Hanyu Genichi knew how many malevolent eyes hid beneath this gentle scene.
He returned to his small but tidy studio apartment. The familiar, faintly dusty air slightly soothed his nerves. The door clicked shut—its metal latch sealing out the outside world's creepiness, at least for now.
Leaning against the door, Genichi exhaled a long breath, feeling as if his strength had drained away.
Yet that brief respite lasted less than a second.
Suddenly, a wave of intense dizziness hit with no warning.
The scene before his eyes twisted and shattered, like reflections on water—then everything was enveloped in blinding light.
"Wha—"
His words caught in his throat.
The dizziness passed, and sudden solidity was underfoot.
Genichi was standing in the center of a circular arena.
Huge, tiered structures—made of the same material—ringed him, stretching upward, vanishing into an endlessly dark void above.
No audience. The emptiness was disturbing.
In the center, a vast, round field was encircled by the stands.
The structure immediately reminded him of ancient Rome's Colosseum.
Where was he?
His heart pounded even more violently than when he'd been facing the Cthulhu-like spirit.
The unknown is always more frightening than the known.
At that moment, information carved itself into his mind.
His face displayed shock, confusion, disbelief, and then—at the last—settled into the pale, ashen gray of the dead.
Good news! I have my very own cheat code!
Bad news: This cheat is supremely deadly!
Apparently, before crossing over, he'd run into Death Reaper on the raised highway, and despite his best efforts, lost.
Under the influence of the great cosmic flow, he was shattered into countless fragments, scattered across all heavens and endless worlds.
For a few seconds, he was overwhelmed by waves of ecstasy, like lightning through his skull.
Unify all domains—become One!
Isn't this the legendary accomplishment of The One? (Jet Li's Movie.)
But that blissful bubble instantly burst under cold reality.
He realized a fatal problem:
"I'm just an ordinary human!"
To unify all worlds, he'd have to fight, kill, and devour his alternate selves.
But he'd reincarnated into a slice-of-life anime world.
Sure, it had vengeful spirits, but he had no special powers!
He had the stamina of an average high schooler, zero combat experience.
And his enemies? His own alternate selves, launched from all kinds of worlds...
Some landed in shounen battle anime, gaining outrageous abilities.
Some in magical worlds, learning real magic.
Some in sci-fi, piloting mechas or becoming cyborgs.
Some in cultivation worlds, instantly becoming cultivators.
And here he was, stuck in a world where all he could see were ghosts—and had to pretend he couldn't see them, or die!
Compared to the alternatives, he was like a little rabbit thrown into a tiger's den.
This wasn't a "cheat."
It was a death sentence!
A sentence that led straight to his doom!
"Are you screwing with me...?"
His teeth chattered—not from cold, but from bone-deep terror and despair.
Struggling to survive in a world of ghosts, he'd suddenly been thrust into even greater danger—a killing game thousands of times more brutal, starting from the absolute bottom rung!
He wanted to protest, to rail at this unfair fate, to find a way out of this absurd world.
But the cold logic of information was merciless:
There is no way to refuse, no way to escape.
Suddenly, the stone floor underfoot flared with radiant white light.
Complex patterns, woven of light, swirled beneath him, spreading rapidly and wrapping around his entire body.
An irresistible force pulled him away—
"No, wait! At least—"
Before he could finish, the scene twisted and changed once more.
His perspective from the stands vanished.
He stood alone, unarmed, at the center of the arena, heart filled with terror at the unknown foe he might face—and with complete bewilderment at his fate.
On the far side, another burst of white light appeared.
Another person teleported in.
Genichi's heart nearly stopped. His eyes were glued to the fading glow, his pupils shrunk to pinpoints.
His first opponent had arrived.
…