# Chapter One: A Preface Is Unnecessary

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"Ring-ring-ring~

Ring-ring-ring~"

Through a haze of half-sleep, the clamor of an alarm clock rang out, as though sounding directly beside Lin Sǔn's ear.

"Hayato, time to get up~"

A man's voice drifted over.

"Ring-ring-ring~"

The alarm continued its relentless cry.

Lin Sǔn, too irritated to sleep any further, opened his eyes. He raised one hand to shield himself from the sunlight pouring through the window, and lay there on the bed staring up at the ceiling. "An unfamiliar ceiling. Ah, isn't that line a bit too dated by now?"

He sat up, a pair of utterly dead-fish eyes surveying his surroundings. A pink cotton quilt — the sort that could only be described as "adorable" — lay draped over him. On the computer screen positioned directly across from the bed, the Windows logo bounced endlessly, never once striking a corner.

He reached out from beneath the covers and silenced the alarm clock still screaming atop the nightstand. Lin Sǔn could swear on his younger brother's life: this was absolutely, positively, unequivocally not his own room.

For one thing, the last moment he could remember, it had been the year 2021. Not only had the operating system long since been updated — Win10 was the standard, and even Win7 was nearly obsolete — but that classic yet thoroughly outdated XP system on the screen before him had no business being here at all.

For another, he was a man. While he could, under specific circumstances — say, eating strawberry ice cream or watching Kamen Rider — accept, even rather enjoy, the color pink (Decade: *That's magenta!*), he would never in his right mind choose a pink quilt to sleep under. It was so effeminate —

Actually, now that he looked at it again... it was kind of nice? Tilting his head to study the quilt, Lin Sǔn reversed his opinion at lightning speed.

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Yet to call this a girl's room didn't quite seem right either. The large cabinet in the corner was packed densely with figurines and model toys — understandable enough if the room's owner was an otaku with a passion for such things — but the posters plastered across the walls were another matter entirely, each one featuring some manner of grotesque and outlandish creature.

A minotaur wielding an axe, a knight with a gleaming sword, a fish-man bearing a long spear — those could still pass for characters from some popular fantasy franchise. But then there were others:

A warped green body covered in black triangles, three necks fused to a single torso, each supporting a head that resembled a mask;

A dinosaur with chicken claws, a long electrified horn where its nose should have been, and a gaping seam split open at the back of its neck — lined with rows of jagged teeth, unmistakably a second mouth;

And further still: what appeared to be the exhumed skeleton of a mammoth, a strange creature cloaked in long black fur, a lion draped in a cape — an assortment of bizarre and unsettling images.

Gazing at the gallery of posters, Lin Sǔn shook his head in quiet amazement. "I have no idea who brought me here, but whoever lives in this room has some seriously wild taste. Look at this — there's even a tentacle monster. Absolutely degenerate, absolutely degenerate."

At that moment, the voice Lin Sǔn had dimly registered earlier returned: "Hayato, still not out of bed? You're going to be late~"

The closed door swung open, and its owner stepped inside. Lin Sǔn turned to look.

She wore a pale lavender apron tied at the waist and carried a bamboo basket brimming with laundry. Her features were exquisite, and she wore a gentle smile as she regarded Lin Sǔn standing before the bed. "My goodness, you child — I've been calling you forever and not a peep. I was starting to think you'd sleep right through the morning."

"Hayato — are you calling me?" Lin Sǔn asked, somewhat uncertainly. One thing was certain: he had never laid eyes on this woman before today. It wasn't that Lin Sǔn possessed some extraordinary memory capable of cataloguing every face he'd ever encountered — it was simply that her appearance was far too striking to forget. Ruby lips, luminous eyes, gracefully arched brows — every poetic phrase seemed coined for her alone. Her figure, admittedly, was rather on the flat side, with little in the way of curves front or back, yet her face alone, combined with the gentle, refined bearing she carried like a well-bred lady of good family, was more than enough. Lin Sǔn was certain: had he ever seen her before, he would not have forgotten.

"Oh, you silly child, always teasing me." The woman laughed softly and took hold of the door handle. "All right, all right — get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast. I won't watch, I've got laundry to do."

As she pulled the door shut, she added: "And be quick about it — if you dawdle, I just might eat your breakfast myself, hehe~" She flashed him a playful wink before closing the door behind her.

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Lin Sǔn lowered his gaze in silence and looked at his own hands.

During the brief exchange with the woman just now, he had noticed something — wasn't she a touch too tall? Lin Sǔn's own height, while nowhere near the absurd stature of professional basketball players, was a quite respectable 195 centimeters. Yet standing before her, he had found that she appeared to be *taller* than him. That would put her well over two meters.

There was also the matter of the woman clearly knowing him — knowing him well enough to address him with the easy familiarity of an elder — while Lin Sǔn had no memory of her whatsoever. This led him to one possible conclusion: his appearance, in all likelihood, had probably not changed.

He looked down at his hands once more, and confirmed it — damn. *This is not my body.*

He ran his fingers along the slender, smooth arm. He clearly remembered a burn scar on his left elbow, a remnant of an old injury — yet now it was gone without a trace. Even the skin itself, which had once been slightly rough and lightly covered in hair, was now perfectly smooth.

Almost like a wom —

A horrifying possibility struck him. Lin Sǔn yanked down the waistband of his pajama pants and peered downward in the morning light, then exhaled a long, slow breath of relief. His old companion was still present and accounted for, having not vanished despite any rash oaths Lin Sǔn might once have sworn.

"So what exactly is going on here — have I transmigrated or something?" He pulled open the wardrobe and took out a set of clothes, stripping off the pajamas as he muttered to himself. "And another thing — that enormous wardrobe stuffed full of clothes, and every single outfit is the exact same style. Whoever I am now is seriously..."

On the desk in front of the computer sat a shoulder bag, and draped over the computer chair was a blue jacket. After a moment's consideration, Lin Sǔn put the computer into sleep mode, swung the jacket over his shoulder, picked up the bag by its strap, and walked out the door.

As he left, his eyes swept once more over the posters he hadn't finished examining. Several of the creatures looked oddly familiar — a black-robed mage gripping an emerald staff, a black dragon breathing jets of flame, and a great white dragon that seemed to embody light itself.

He was tempted to linger and gather more clues, but remembering the woman's warning, Lin Sǔn pulled his gaze away without sentiment, closed the door, and headed downstairs.