The begining

Phoebe’s orange eyes glistened, a mix of shock and relief plain on her face. Her hands, damp from spilled water, trembled as she gazed at the figure she called Master Duncan standing before the mirror.

“Thank goodness Master Duncan’s finally come round,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Urotasu raised an eyebrow, eyeing the girl with his signature lopsided grin, the one he flashed whenever something piqued his curiosity.

“Huh, so the lad I’m inhabiting is called Duncan,” he mused to himself. “But what’s more intriguing is that she’s not speaking Japanese, yet I understand her perfectly. Is this some default reincarnation perk? Like I’m the main character in an Isekai anime?”

As Urotasu considered testing his own voice, a sudden, blinding dizziness hit him. Not just any dizziness—it felt like someone was cramming thousands of photos into his skull all at once.

“Argh!” Urotasu collapsed onto the floor with a thud, clutching his head. “Alright, this isn’t funny. It’s like my brain’s being forced to download a terabyte of data on a dodgy village Wi-Fi.”

Fragments of memories that weren’t his flooded his mind. Strange faces, familiar voices, emotions he’d never felt. Amid the chaos, one name echoed: Duncan. Duncan. Duncan.

“Master Duncan!” Phoebe cried, rushing to his side in a panic. “Please, take a deep breath and try to stay calm!”

With effort, Phoebe helped Urotasu to his feet and guided him to the bed. Still dizzy, he couldn’t resist, though inwardly he found it odd to be treated like a fragile doll.

“This girl’s got some strength,” he thought, wincing. “Or is this lad’s body just pathetically weak?”

Slowly, the tidal wave of foreign memories subsided. Urotasu could breathe easier, though his head still felt like it had been whacked with a hammer.

From the jumbled memories, he pieced together a picture of the girl now sitting beside him, her face etched with worry. Phoebe, a fourteen-year-old from the Walterpunk race—known for their pink hair and orange eyes. She’d been Duncan’s personal maid for the past three years.

“Walterpunk?” Urotasu nearly choked. “Who comes up with a name like that? Sounds like a washed-up punk rock band.”

Names of family members surfaced too: Eleana, Dyre, Alice, Julia, and Liz. But while their names were clear, their faces remained blurry.

The real shock was realising he was no longer in his own body. Somehow, he’d reincarnated into this teenage boy named Duncan.

“Alright, it’s clear now,” he muttered to himself, grinning. “Now I just need to tell this girl I’m not her precious Master.” Urotasu decided to be upfront. He wasn’t one for hiding something this big.

“Phoebe,” he began casually, “I’ve got to tell you something a bit… unusual. I’m not—”

Thump.

The world froze.

Phoebe, mid-gaze with teary eyes, turned statue-like. Her expression was stuck, mouth slightly open, eyes unblinking. Even the dust floating in the room seemed suspended.

“What the bloody hell is this?” Urotasu scanned the room. “Don’t tell me I’ve got time-stopping powers now? Or is the world buffering because some data hasn’t downloaded yet?”

As he stopped talking, time crept back to normal. Phoebe blinked, her mouth moving again.

Urotasu tried again, more cautiously. “Phoebe, what you need to know is I’m not Duncan—”

Time froze again. Phoebe was a statue once more.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Urotasu chuckled. “Some cosmic force with a lot of clout doesn’t want me spilling the beans on my real identity, eh?” He shook his head, amused. “Fine, universe or whatever you are, I’ll play your game. You want me to be Duncan? Let’s do this!”

Time resumed, and Phoebe leapt up, her face frantic. “Master Duncan, you don’t look stable. I must fetch the doctor and Master Dyre at once. Please wait here!”

Before he could respond, Phoebe dashed out, her footsteps fading into the distance.

“Energetic lass,” Urotasu remarked, hauling himself off the bed. “But she’s left me alone at the perfect moment.”

He strolled to the window. Outside, Phoebe was sprinting, gasping for breath, toward a building that made him whistle in awe.

“Blimey,” he said softly. “This lad’s family must be proper loaded.”

The building was a grand Victorian manor. A vibrant blue roof, pristine white walls, large windows framed in dark wood. A manicured garden bursting with colourful flowers surrounded it, with gentle mountain slopes in the background, dotted with neat vineyards and lush tea plantations.

“Quite the view,” Urotasu nodded, chuffed. “At least I didn’t reincarnate as a street urchin or a factory slave. Though,” he glanced at his body, “this lad’s physical state is a bit grim.”

He realised he was in a separate pavilion, not the main manor. “Is this an isolation room? Or some fancy sickbay for a frail kid?”

Gazing out, Urotasu analysed his situation. “Based on the architecture and lifestyle, I’m likely somewhere in Europe. France? England? Switzerland?”

A flicker of doubt crossed his mind. “But am I still in my old world, or is this a completely different one?”

With a spark of enthusiasm, Urotasu raised his right hand and focused. “Right, let’s see if I can blow the roof off with my Kanjo powers. If they still work, I’ve just moved locations.”

He tried summoning the blue energy that usually sparked from his palm.

Nothing.

“Hm?” Urotasu frowned and tried again, focusing harder.

Still nothing.

“Alright, now I’m a tad worried.” He stared at his palm, his expression growing serious. “I’ve proper switched worlds, and my Kanjo powers are gone. This is going to be a right pain.”

He tried again and again, but no blue light, no energy, nothing.

“Bugger,” he swore lightly. “Looks like I’ll have to get by as a regular bloke.”

Despite losing his powers, Urotasu didn’t lose his spirit. He walked back to the mirror and studied his reflection with a cheeky grin.

“Come on, Urotasu,” he said to his image, “look on the bright side. At least I’ve got a full body. And I’m younger!”

He inspected himself closely. “But honestly, this lad’s in a sorry state. Skin pale as a vampire, scrawny like he hasn’t eaten in months, and these dark circles under his eyes—he’s like a panda who’s been binging Netflix all night.”

Urotasu tried stretching, only to wince at a muscle cramp. “Bloody hell! This body’s like a rusty old machine. Weak muscles, brittle bones.”

He leaned closer to the mirror, brushing back his hair to reveal a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. “And this stitched-up scar… there’s got to be a cracking story behind it. Accident? Surgery? Or maybe Duncan was into some dangerous hobbies?”

Lost in thought, he heard noisy footsteps approaching from the manor. Phoebe was back, with a group in tow.

“Right, let’s see which family members I’ll be fibbing to today,” he muttered, grinning.

As the figures drew closer, another wave of dizziness hit. This time, the memories were sharper, more focused.

“Aargh!” Urotasu clutched his head. “More bonus memories. It’s like a TV series dropping episodes one by one.”

“Master Duncan!” Phoebe rushed in, instinctively supporting him. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

As the dizziness faded, Urotasu noticed a middle-aged woman kneeling before him. She wore a dark brown cloak with a hood, pouches of herbs and medical tools hanging from her waist.

“Medieval doctor, eh?” Urotasu thought. “This just got more interesting.”

“Master, I’m Doctor Martha,” the woman said gently. “May I examine you?”

Urotasu nodded, curious about what would happen next.

Doctor Martha placed her hand on his chest, and suddenly—

Shiiiing.

Her hand glowed with a soft green light. Warmth flowed into Urotasu, probing his vital organs.

“Aha!” he thought. “This isn’t an ordinary world. There’s magic here! Not my Kanjo, but still bloody fascinating.”

When the examination finished, Doctor Martha smiled and turned to Duncan’s family. “The young master’s physical condition has much improved, as have his vital organs. The dizziness might be from sleeping too long.”

“Really? She’s got a CT scanner, MRI, and X-ray in her hand? That’s way more magical than Kanjo,” Urotasu mused. His Kanjo had only enhanced physical strength, though its effects were equally absurd.

As Doctor Martha reported to a blond man with blue eyes identical to Urotasu’s, a name popped into his mind: “Dyre, Duncan’s uncle and guardian. But… guardian? Where are this lad’s parents?”

An elderly woman with blonde hair streaked with grey approached, her blue eyes misty with unshed tears.

“Eleana, Duncan’s grandmother,” Urotasu recognised. His gaze shifted to a woman beside her. “Alice, Dyre’s wife.” Then to two young girls near the door. “Julia, probably Duncan’s age, and Liz, the youngest.”

What caught his attention was the family’s appearance. All had blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Duncan’s silver hair stood out like a sore thumb.

“Interesting,” Urotasu grinned inwardly. “Looks like this lad’s an oddity in this blonde clan. Or maybe there’s a juicy story about his origins?”

Eleana couldn’t hold back any longer. She rushed forward and hugged Urotasu tightly, her tears finally spilling.

“Duncan, my dearest grandson,” she sobbed. “Thank heavens you’re back with us. I was so afraid we’d lost you.”

Blzt!

Urotasu felt a surge of emotions from her—worry, relief, gratitude, and deep love.

“My ability to sense emotions is still working. Thank goodness, at least one Kanjo power’s left,” he thought, touched despite knowing her love was for Duncan, not him. Kanjo, being emotion-based, made sensing others’ feelings a core skill.

Torn between guilt for basking in affection meant for someone else and not wanting to hurt this elderly woman, Urotasu gently returned her hug.

“I’m alright now,” he said softly, trying to soothe her. “No need to fret, Grandmother.”

Thump.

The reaction was not what he expected.

Eleana pulled back, staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. Not just her—everyone in the room gaped at him, stunned, confused, and a little afraid.

Dyre stepped forward, brows furrowed. Alice covered her mouth. Julia and Liz exchanged frightened glances. Even Phoebe, who’d known him for three years, looked gobsmacked.

“Eh?” Urotasu frowned, utterly baffled. “What did I do wrong? I just returned a hug and said thanks. What’s so odd about that?”

A tense silence filled the room, broken only by held breaths and pounding hearts.

“Hang on,” Urotasu narrowed his eyes, studying their shocked faces. “Don’t tell me… Duncan’s got issues showing emotion?”

From the memories he’d glimpsed, Urotasu realised something crucial about Duncan’s personality was missing. Something that made his warm, affectionate response so shocking to those closest to him.

“Seems the real Duncan was the unexpressive type. Cold, maybe? Antisocial? Or… oh no, don’t tell me he was a tsundere,” Urotasu groaned inwardly.

He decided to improvise, adopting a more Duncan-like demeanour based on their reactions.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, flattening his expression. “I mean… I’m fine. No need to make a fuss.”

But it was too late. The family still stared, their expressions unchanged.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Urotasu muttered to himself, stifling a laugh. “I’ve proper mucked this up.”

In the awkward silence, Urotasu realised his journey in this new world would be far trickier than he’d imagined. He didn’t just have to physically be Duncan—he had to understand and mimic a personality vastly different from his own.

“But hold on,” he thought optimistically, “mimicking this lad’s attitude sounds dull. I’d rather be myself, even if it shocks the lot of you more, haha.”

As he eyed the bewildered faces around him, Urotasu began plotting how to adapt to his new role. One thing was certain: he’d do it his way, with the humour and confidence that defined him.

“Let’s get this game started,” he murmured to himself, a sly grin spreading across his face.