The chirping sounds of birds jolted Reika awake. Her eyelids flew open as her chest heaved, gasping for air. It felt as though she had been suffocating, her throat burning from the dryness. She shot upright, coughing frantically, each spasm jolting her body as if trying to expel the remnants of the nightmare.

She pressed her palm against the cool surface of the bed, grounding herself. Her heart raced, and for a moment, she swore she could still hear the fading echoes of the woman's voice — soft, familiar, yet unsettling.

“What the hell was all that about, seriously…” Reika mumbled to herself, running a hand through her hair as she furrowed her brows in confusion. But something felt off.

Her morning voice seemed deeper than usual, and as she ran her fingers through her hair, she realised it was much shorter than she remembered. A sudden awareness washed over her — the room she was in was unfamiliar. Gone were the small comforts of her apartment: the cosy bed, the makeshift pillow-couch, and the TV. In fact, the house — no, room — was significantly bigger than her original apartment. The white walls were now covered in dark grey, and the small apartment window has turned into a sliding door to the balcony instead.

“Where the hell am I—” she paused, hearing her voice again. “No, who the hell am I?!”

The voice that echoed back was deep and strikingly masculine. It sent a shiver down her spine, as if she had heard it before. She glanced at the hand that had raked through her now-short hair. It was larger and rougher, a stark contrast to her delicate, smaller hands before.

“You’ll take good care of my body, right?”

Ryohei has entrusted his body to you after all.

A sharp pang cut through her confusion as memories of the dream flooded back. She clutched her head in agony again, struggling to piece together what had happened.

Ryohei… His body…?

No, but who the hell is he? The robed man?

Cursing under her breath, Reika resolved to find answers. But when she turned to the side to catch her reflection in the mirror by the bed, it felt as if all her questions had already been answered — only to be replaced with new ones.

Instead of her usual longer hair, her slightly skinnier frame with broad shoulders and a shorter stature, what was before her sight was something completely different. Instead, staring back at her was… a man.

He jumped to his feet, staring into the mirror as he examined his new body. In disbelief, he hit himself a couple of times — just to confirm he wasn’t dreaming again. The lingering pain reassured him that this was all too real. What the hell? He scanned the room, before frantically rifling through drawers and bags, searching for anything that might reveal the true identity of this man.

When he found a wallet in the top drawer, he quickly rummaged through it, desperate to locate an ID card. Instead of feeling glad upon finding the item, his confusion deepened when he read the information printed on it. 

“Ryohei Saito… twenty-four years old… sex… male…” he trailed off, the words echoing in his mind. 

I will grant your wish. So, follow your judgement as you please.

“Wish? What wish?” Reika — now Ryohei — snorted under his breath, clearly exasperated. “I don’t remember wishing to be a man.”

He threw the wallet onto the bed in frustration. What happened to his original world? What happened to Reika? Am I stuck in this body from now on?

Running his fingers through his hair, he cursed under his breath before his reflection caught his attention again. He stared longer, noticing the strikingly familiar features he had as Reika. Intrigued, he inched closer to the mirror, amazed by his own appearance.

Ryohei’s body was exactly how Reika had seen in her dream: large and muscular, with wide shoulders and a tall stature. It was perfect, something he had never possessed as Reika. His curiosity expanded as he examined his new form, despite reminding himself that this wasn’t his original body. Still, curiosity kills the cat. But as he tugged at the waistband of his pants, his phone alarm rang, jolting him from his actions as a sense of embarrassment gushed over him.

He shook off his embarrassment and moved towards the source of the sound. Expecting to see a typical wake-up alarm, Ryohei was instead greeted by the words ‘Begin Training’ flashing on the device's screen. His brow furrowed. Training? What kind of training did the original Ryohei have scheduled at 10 in the morning? Sword fighting, perhaps? After all, he had wielded that unique black sword in the dream.

Ryohei glanced around, taking in the surroundings again. The room didn’t resemble the mediaeval world from his dream. The sleek architecture outside the balcony looked modern — similar to the cityscapes in Reika’s original universe. His confusion deepened.

So, what was the point of the mediaeval setting in the dream? Was that just bait?

He paused, feeling the gears in his mind start to turn. Could it be... the original Ryohei was transported into that world?

His musings were cut short by the sight of a book on the bedside table. Curious, he picked it up and nearly snorted when he saw the cover. It was a novel — and not just any novel. The plot was set in a mediaeval world, with a swordsman wielding a black blade, just like the Ryohei in the dream, as the main character.

“So he was reincarnated into a novel?” Ryohei laughed quietly to himself, slowly accepting the absurdity of the situation. “Lucky him. At least he’d know the kind of ending he’s preparing for.”

Then, a new thought struck him. If the original Ryohei is in that world now… does that mean someone else is in my old body right now?

A knot of frustration tightened in his chest. The idea of some stranger living in Reika’s body, interacting with her friends and family, felt unsettling. But, he reminded himself, wasn’t he in the same situation? Still, it didn’t make the thought any less irritating.

As he mulled over this, his eyes caught another book on the table. Another novel? He grabbed it, intrigued by the childish title “How to become a Warrior”, and started flipping through the pages of the book. Ryohei was caught off guard when he realised that it wasn’t a novel, but an instructional guide on, as the title suggested, how to become a Warrior. 

It appeared that in this universe, "Warriors" were real — a specialised job to protect the city from villains and Monsters. Despite the modern surroundings, the universe he was currently in felt unrealistic and rather futuristic. The fantasy elements made it seem like he, too, had been thrown into a novel.

As Ryohei flipped through more pages, he learned about the existence of a unique ranking system, ranging from F to SS rank, and the abilities mankind have, known simply as "Powers", which were manifested at the age of five. From there, one’s understanding of their powers determined their rank, with only those B rank or higher eligible to apply for the Warrior position. Makes sense, Ryohei thought. Only the strong should be allowed to protect others.

But the rankings weren’t just for Warriors. While powers could be considered a blessing, they could also be a curse. A poorly controlled Power could lead to corruption, turning a person into a ‘Monster.’ Warriors were the only ones equipped to stop these Corrupteds, as the book called them.

Ryohei frowned as an unsettling feeling crept into his mind. He couldn’t shake the sense of frustration growing inside him as he read through the book, not knowing the reason behind it. “Powers, huh...” he muttered, glancing down at his palm. “What’s Ryohei’s power anyway?”

His thoughts were interrupted by another alarm. He jumped at the sound and grabbed his phone to turn it off, snorting when he saw the reminder: ‘Drink Water.’ He dismissed it with a scoff before his mind wandered back to where it was lingering just seconds ago.

But instead of focusing on his power, his thoughts shifted elsewhere.

Ryohei recalled how the barbarian mocked the original Ryohei for wanting to become a warrior. Now, finding a book about Warriors in his room couldn’t be a mere coincidence. Could it be… Ryohei had actually wanted to become one?

Realisation dawned upon him as he remembered that only those ranked B or above are capable of being one, with, at most, C rankers accepted as trainees. This led to the question, what exactly was Ryohei's rank?

His eyes darted to the wallet he had tossed earlier. Snatching it up, he quickly checked the ID card again, suspecting his rank might be listed there. And sure enough, it was. But when he saw the letter written on it, he somehow wished he hadn’t looked at all.

“No way…” he muttered, staring at the card in disbelief. “He’s… Ryohei’s an E rank?!”

He blinked multiple times, wondering if his eyesight had gotten worse in this new body. But no, the rank was clear, and his eyesight wasn’t failing him. A flush of embarrassment crept up his neck.

"Am I really that easy to please?" he muttered to himself, feeling a wave of self-consciousness wash over him. “I thought he was cool…”

The Ryohei from his dream had seemed like what a Warrior should be — he was like a master of the sword. He could wield that crystal-covered blade with ease, cutting through enemies with grace and precision, all while protecting Reika. His movements were seamless and his confidence was unwavering; that was the epitome of strength. That Ryohei was what strength meant to Reika.

But the card in his hand seemed to be implying otherwise.

“He definitely doesn't look like someone who belongs in E rank, though,” Ryohei muttered, almost laughing at the absurdity. He shook his head, replaying the dream in his mind — the sheer skill, the raw power. If someone like that is an E ranker...

Just how powerful are the Warriors in this world?

A heavy sigh escaped his lips, feeling a chilling sensation crawling up his body as realisation washed over him. The pieces of this new reality were slowly coming together. The original Ryohei must have wanted to become a Warrior — the country’s protectors. But clearly, he had a long way to go. Maybe that explained the ‘Training’ alarm.

Still, one piece remained a mystery.

"What the hell is his power?" Ryohei scanned the ID card again, hoping for more clues about the abilities of his new body. But he got nothing in return. He sighed in frustration, tossing the card onto the bed once again before running a hand through his short hair — a gesture that still felt strange to him. But as his fingers brushed over his scalp, something sharp scratched his skin. He quickly pulled his hand away, eyes widening in shock at the sight before him.

His heart skipped a beat as he stared at his fingers, watching in horror as black crystals began to form, wrapping themselves around his index finger like a creeping vine.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he yelped, shaking his hand, hoping the crystals would fall off. Instead, they spread faster to his other fingers, slowly crawling over his knuckles, their edges glinting in the morning light.

What the hell is this?!