Chapter 1: — "Welcome to the Game"

Kenzo’s eyes shot open. The first thing he noticed was the smell, fresh grass, warm sunlight, and… maybe a hint of flowers? He blinked rapidly, trying to process what he was seeing. He wasn’t on his bed. He wasn’t in his apartment. He was… outside. On a hill. A huge, rolling grassy hill stretching farther than he could see, dotted with sparkling rivers and clusters of wildflowers.

“What… what the hell?” he muttered, sitting up. His head spun. The breeze ruffled his hair, no, not his hair. His hair was longer, shinier, and falling perfectly around his face.

Then he looked at his hands.

Rusty armor covered his arms. And when he flexed, the metal moved perfectly with his muscles. His hands gripped something… cold. Smooth. Heavy. A sword.

“No. No, no, no! This isn’t real!” Kenzo shouted, staggering backward.

That’s when he noticed the tiny mirror glinting on the ground nearby. He hesitated, heart hammering. “Maybe… maybe it’s just a weird reflection thing. Like… a trick of the light?”

Kenzo picked it up. Slowly. Trembling. And then… he raised it to his face.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” he screamed, nearly dropping the mirror.

He looked nothing like Kenzo. Nothing. This… this was a supermodel, sword-wielding, chiseled-hair version of himself. His jawline could probably slice steel. His hair glimmered in the sun. His eyes… his eyes were so blue they looked like liquid sapphire.

Kenzo’s knees buckled. “I… I’m… hot? I’m… too hot! This isn’t fair! Who does this to someone?!”

He scrambled to his feet, holding the mirror like a shield, and spun around, trying to figure out what was happening.

And then he saw it.

A shadow swept across the hills. A low, guttural roar filled the air. Kenzo froze. The ground trembled beneath him.

A dragon—no, a flying dragon, soared overhead. Its scales shimmered like emeralds, wings stretched impossibly wide, tail coiling like a whip in the wind. Its golden eyes scanned the landscape… and it spotted him.

Kenzo’s heart stopped. “OH MY GOD, IT’S A DRAGON!!” he screamed, leaping backward and nearly falling down the hill. The dragon circled once… twice… and then, unbelievably, did nothing. No fire, no claws, no crushing. Just a casual, graceful glide, like it was… smiling at him?

Kenzo’s knees went weak. “I… I… I’m not dreaming… I’m dead, aren’t I? And now I’m in some… some insane fantasy game?” He stumbled, clutching the mirror, and shouted into the sky, “GOD! IS THIS YOU?! DID YOU DO THIS?!”

He sank to the ground, taking a shuddering breath. Everything clicked into place—the armor, the sword, the stupidly good-looking face, even the friendly dragon. He was… he was in a game. A fantasy RPG, alive with quests, magic, and monsters.

Kenzo closed his eyes and whispered, almost too softly to hear: “God… or whoever’s up there… thank you.”

For the first time in years, a spark of excitement flared in him. Fear, confusion, and disbelief still clung like shadows, but… hope was there too. Maybe, just maybe, this was his second chance.

He looked down at the sword in his hand, flexed his armored fingers, and grinned shakily. “Okay… let’s see what this life has for me. Let’s make it worth it.”

And with a deep breath, Kenzo, now Lorenzo the Destroyer, stood up, ready to step into a world that was as beautiful as it was insane.

Lorenzo, Kenzo’s new, ridiculous name in his new ridiculous body, took a deep breath and started walking down the hill. The grass was soft under his boots, the wind teasing his perfectly styled hair. He tried not to think about how absurdly perfect he looked in rust armor.

“Okay, okay… let’s figure this out,” he muttered. “If this is a game, there has to be… rules… menus… stats… something.”

He wandered toward a small village he could see in the distance, curious. As he approached, birds scattered in alarm. Not because he was a threat, but apparently, they had never seen someone this ridiculously hot before.

Villagers started to appear, blinking in awe. One little girl dropped her basket of apples, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Oh! H-Hello, sir!” she stammered, pointing at him.

Lorenzo waved awkwardly. “Uh… hi. I’m… uh…” He realized he didn’t even know his “character” name yet. “I’m Lorenzo!” He coughed. “Lorenzo the… uh… Destroyer?”

The villagers gasped. Men and women alike whispered behind their hands. One older man muttered, “By the gods… he’s… he’s perfect.”

Lorenzo froze. “Wait… perfect? That’s… not normal, right? This isn’t normal. I—”

A merchant suddenly tripped over his own cart and spilled oranges everywhere, eyes wide. “S-Sorry, sir! I… I didn’t mean to—”

Lorenzo held up a hand. “It’s okay, I didn’t even touch you…”

And yet, everyone’s attention was glued to him. Even the village dogs seemed to wag their tails in adoration.

He shook his head. Okay… this is new. Way too new. I’m… ridiculously overpowered, ridiculously good-looking… and apparently, everyone loves me already. This is insane.

A little boy stepped forward, pointing at his sword. “Mister... Are you a hero?”

Lorenzo held the sword high, dramatically, almost without thinking. “A hero… yes. I shall protect this village from all evil!”

The villagers cheered. Lorenzo winced. He hadn’t even done anything yet.

As he looked around, he noticed a small menu floating next to him, like a typical RPG interface:
Name: Lorenzo the Destroyer
Level: 99
Stats: Off the charts
Skills: Everything

Lorenzo blinked. “Level… ninety-nine? What the hell?”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. Okay. So I’m strong. Way too strong. And everyone is going to freak out if I try anything. I need… a plan. Or maybe… I just wing it.

Before he could think further, the friendly dragon swooped low over the village, letting out a soft, approving roar. The villagers all ran, screaming with fear and Lorenzo’s jaw dropped.

Lorenzo froze, staring at the dragon as it swooped low over the village. Its massive wings stirred up a wind that knocked over crates, and villagers ran screaming in every direction.

“Oh… no. No, no, no!” Lorenzo shouted, gripping his sword. “This is bad! This is really bad!”

He ran toward the dragon, waving his arms like a madman. “Hey! You! Yeah, you! Go away! Shoo! Leave the village alone!”

The dragon tilted its head, looking down at him curiously. It didn’t roar, it didn’t breathe fire, it just blinked, as if it was politely considering his request.

“Uh… excuse me? Did you hear me? I said go away!” Lorenzo stomped his foot, trying to sound intimidating.

The dragon let out a low, questioning hiss and flapped its wings lazily. Lorenzo’s jaw dropped. It’s… listening?

Gathering every bit of courage, and authority, he could, Lorenzo puffed out his chest. “Listen here, dragon! I am Lorenzo the Destroyer! Protector of this village! If you don’t leave right now, I will, uh... attack you with… this!” He brandished his sword dramatically.

The dragon blinked. Then, surprisingly, it leaned down, lowered its massive head, and… nudged him gently with its snout.

Lorenzo stumbled back, nearly tripping over a rock. “W-What?!”

Then, as if it understood perfectly, the dragon spread its wings and took off into the sky, circling once before disappearing over the hills.

The villagers peeked out from behind doors, trembling but safe. One little girl slowly approached. “I… I think… he saved us?”

Lorenzo dusted himself off, panting. “Saved you? I… yeah, that’s… that’s what happened. Totally heroic.” He looked at the sky where the dragon had vanished and muttered, “Okay… so apparently I can talk dragons into leaving. Cool. Very cool.”

He shook his head in disbelief. This is insane. Everything about this life is insane. But… maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe… maybe I can actually make this work.

And with that, Lorenzo, finally felt the tiniest spark of confidence in his new, ridiculous, overpowered body.

After the dragon flew off, Lorenzo finally let himself breathe. He looked around the village. Crates were toppled, chickens were scattering, and villagers were cautiously peeking out of windows.

“Uh… hi?” Lorenzo waved awkwardly, trying to look friendly but also not ridiculous. Which was hard, considering his face was way too perfect and his armor gleamed in the sun.

A young woman stepped forward, holding a basket of bread. Her cheeks were pink, and she looked like she hadn’t stopped staring at him since he arrived. “Y-You… saved us from the dragon, right?”

Lorenzo shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Uh… yeah, I guess? Someone had to do it…” He coughed nervously, realizing how lame that sounded.

She smiled shyly, clutching the basket to her chest. “T-Thank you… you’re… really… um… handsome.”

Lorenzo choked on air. “Handsome? Wait… no. I mean… uh… thanks!” He waved his hands frantically, trying not to blush, or ruin his perfect hair. “I didn’t even do much!”

Another villager, a young man, came out from behind a barrel. He looked annoyed. “Hey! Don’t think just because you scared a dragon away that you’re some kind of hero!”

Lorenzo turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Uh… sir… I literally just scared a dragon into leaving. That’s kind of heroic, right?”

The man grumbled but retreated, muttering about luck. Meanwhile, more villagers had started to gather. Whispering, pointing, and, most worryingly, blushing.

A little girl tugged on Lorenzo’s sleeve. “Are you… going to be our knight? Our hero?”

Lorenzo blinked. “Uh… maybe? If that’s… okay?”

The villagers cheered softly. Lorenzo facepalmed. I didn’t even ask them what kind of hero they wanted. This is going to get weird, isn’t it?

He looked down at himself again, secretly staring at the sword in his hand and the armor that gleamed perfectly in the sunlight. “Well… at least I have the tools. And… the looks. Ugh… this is going to be ridiculous.”

Then he noticed the woman with the bread still staring at him. She fidgeted nervously, her cheeks redder than ever. “I-I… uh… hope you’ll stay… and… maybe… protect us?”

Lorenzo scratched the back of his neck, heart racing. “Uh… yeah! Of course! Totally! I… I can do that!”

But Lorenzo had one problem. He realized he had one tiny problem: he had nowhere to stay. His sword, armor, and ridiculously perfect hair didn’t exactly come with a house.

He took a deep breath and asked the kind-looking woman that was holding the bread. “Uh… the problem is I don't have a house. I was wondering… maybe I could… um… stay with you? Just for a little while?”

The woman blinked, blushed and then smiled warmly. “Oh! Of course, you can! You saved the village after all!”

Lorenzo relaxed… for half a second. “Thanks… uh… I mean, thanks so much!”

Then another woman, hearing him, waved her hands dramatically. “Wait! He can stay with me! I have extra rooms!”

And another: “No! I insist! He saved my chickens, from the dragon didn’t he?”

Within moments, almost every woman in the village was arguing over who got to host Lorenzo. Their voices rose, insults flew, and a tiny scuffle broke out in the middle of the village.

Lorenzo raised his hands, panicked. “W-Wait! Stop! I didn’t mean, uh... this!”

But it was too late. Villagers were shouting, waving brooms, and pointing at one another. The little girl from earlier even jumped on a barrel, yelling: “I get him! I get him!”

Lorenzo buried his face in his hands. What did I just do?!