Mushoku Tensei: Reincarnated as a Beast Race Chapter 1 - 01 - Between the Ordinary and the Extraordinary

Aoi Hiroto's existence was ordinary, yet marked by intense concentration. At the age of twenty, on the cusp of a conventional life, a promising future beckoned. He was pursuing Game Design Technology at university and simultaneously interning at a small game development company. His days were consumed by lines of code, the meticulous testing of his concepts, and the endeavor to sculpt the virtual realms and narratives he had always found captivating as a player. Despite the internship's nature, his aspirations were grand, fueled by an enduring fascination with technology. This, however, was his present reality. Swiftly donning his company shirt and black trousers, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and departed his home.

En route to the train station, Aoi traversed familiar streets, passing the same storefronts and observing the same hurried commuters heading to their jobs. He felt no particular distinction from any of them—just another face in the throng, seeking a sliver of meaning within the daily pandemonium. Upon reaching the station, he spotted Yuka, a colleague who typically shared the same train. A brief nod and a weary smile were exchanged as they boarded.

"Aoi, you've been dedicating yourself too much to that game... Have you considered taking a break?" she inquired, her gaze falling upon the dark circles beneath his eyes.

"I believe my vacation will commence once this wretched project is finally completed," he responded with a sigh.

Her concern evident, she cautioned, "You're going to collapse from sheer exhaustion. I understand it's your first solo project, but you need to pace yourself."

"Hahaha, but... it will all be worthwhile soon."

Aoi and Yuka continued their conversation as the train journeyed onward. She playfully teased him about his earnest disposition, lightly nudging his arm and remarking that he needed to "loosen up a bit" and that "games ought to be about enjoyment, not obligation." A faint smile graced his lips, though he looked away, slightly flustered. As much as he respected Yuka, he recognized that his schedule allowed no room for anything beyond his work and training. Yet, witnessing her laughter, a fleeting thought crossed his mind—that perhaps accompanying her out might not be such a bad idea—a notion he swiftly dismissed, redirecting his focus to the tasks awaiting him at the office.

Upon their arrival at the workplace, the daily routine unfolded predictably. Aoi offered a greeting to his supervisor, accepted the folder containing the day's assignments, and settled into his workspace. The office exuded a minimalist charm, with its white walls and the pervasive aroma of coffee. His boss, a middle-aged man of stern countenance, presented him with yet another challenge for the day.

"Aoi, I need you to refine the combat AI. Let's ensure the enemies adapt more effectively to the player's strategy."

"Understood. I'll begin working on it immediately."

The day progressed with minimal disruptions, save for Yuka's visit to discuss development milestones. Her experience brought forth novel ideas, but Aoi remained too engrossed in his project to divert his attention from his monitor.

As the workday concluded, Aoi experienced a fleeting sense of relief. He powered down his computer and gathered his belongings. Yuka was still engaged in conversation with several colleagues about upcoming projects, extending an invitation for drinks post-work. However, Aoi had other plans for the evening. He put on his headphones, retrieved his backpack, and offered a farewell gesture.

Returning home, he found it unoccupied. His mother was still at work; she had been managing alone for some time to enable him to concentrate on his studies, a situation that had become particularly challenging since his father's passing. Nevertheless, she consistently exerted herself to provide him with the best possible opportunities, and with some assistance from his aunt, he successfully gained admission to university. It could be fairly stated that he would never have reached this point without these two remarkable women; they were the most significant figures in his life.

He swiftly prepared a simple meal: rice, fish, and vegetables. While dining, he streamed the latest episode of an anime series he was following.

(Perhaps I'll accept their next invitation to go out with my colleagues)

After all, his current circumstances were relatively stable. It might be an opportune moment to seek a romantic partner; Yuka, if his memory served, was single, and she was genuinely pleasant.

He had a girlfriend a few years prior, but she eventually departed overseas for her studies, leading them to forgo a long-distance relationship, despite their lingering affection. Following his meal, he changed his attire and departed for his grappling training, seeking an escape from the monotony.

The training session was as rigorous as ever. On the mat, he could cast aside thoughts of work, code, and obligations. There, the sole elements of consequence were technique, movement, and physical engagement. He had commenced this training at a young age, given its proximity to his residence, initially drawn to martial arts by their portrayal in anime, manga, and novels. It had since evolved into a cherished pastime, virtually inseparable from his daily life.

"You seem really pumped up today, Hiroto!" Kazuki exclaimed, getting up after a fall that took his breath away.

(Is that truly the best excuse he can conjure for such a swift descent?) he mused internally.

A smile graced my lips as I replied, "It's more accurate to say that you're the one deteriorating!"

He ran a hand through his hair, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "Heh, I just discovered my girlfriend is pregnant. Perhaps I'm a little preoccupied."

Surprise flickered across my features. "Well, that is unexpected news. Congratulations, by the way; I thought you two intended to wait until after you were married?"

A chuckle escaped him. "Not everything unfolds according to plan, so we were hoping you'd be the godfather. Are you in?" he proposed as we made our way to the locker room.

"Someone has to ensure the kid has a proper role model, after all!" I quipped, laughing as I deftly sidestepped the playful punch that followed.

While we changed, our conversation continued, drifting towards how we would cultivate the child into a professional fighter should they show any inclination towards the sport. In the parking lot, just as I was mounting my bike to depart, Kazuki's voice reached me again. With that familiar, slightly anxious smile, he said, "Thanks, man. Seriously, it means the world." I responded with a nod and a genuine smile, and then we parted ways, each heading toward our respective homes.

The night air was bitingly cold, its damp chill slicing across Aoi's face as he cycled home with haste after his training session. Though the traffic was gridlocked, the city still thrummed with the energy of its nightlife. His legs ached, his body still bore the fatigue from his workout, yet a sense of relief washed over him. The training today had been grueling, but for a few precious hours, the all-consuming thoughts of code and the project had receded. A fleeting moment of pure serenity had settled upon him.

Suddenly, the tranquility he cherished was violently shattered. Aoi's gaze fixed ahead, spotting a truck hurtling down the street toward a cluster of teenagers engrossed in an argument on the sidewalk. The driver appeared slumped, seemingly unconscious over the steering wheel.

Oblivious to the impending doom, none of the three teenagers registered the danger rapidly approaching them.

With a surge of adrenaline and quick thinking, he veered his bike towards the unfolding tragedy, intending to shield the youths by launching himself off his bicycle while shouting, "Look out, get out of the way!" His heart hammered against his ribs. He saw the three teens finally becoming aware of their perilous situation, along with a homeless man attempting to shove them to safety. He propelled himself forward with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Yet, to his utter dismay, his leg, weakened by exertion and the sudden demand, seized up in a debilitating cramp at the most critical juncture. He couldn't generate enough momentum to propel them clear. In fact, the only thing his action accomplished was to add to the number of potential casualties.

He managed to reach one of them, grasping their shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull them from harm's way, but the impact of the collision was catastrophic. He couldn't discern if he had succeeded in saving anyone as the truck, with a force that contorted Aoi's body upon impact, finally struck them all.

During the collision, as agony engulfed his body and his surroundings dissolved into a blur, a searing sense of injustice pierced him. So much remained undone, countless dreams yet to be realized, manifold debts outstanding. His thoughts turned to the unfinished project, the diploma he had yet to obtain, and the image of his mother and aunt awaiting his return. "Not now... not yet," he thought, battling the encroaching darkness. The world fractured around him, and his sole desire was one final opportunity to truly live.

The sickening screech of twisting metal and the crushing agony overwhelmed his senses. Time seemed to stretch as he witnessed everything in agonizing slow motion. The ground loomed closer with terrifying speed. His vision began to fade.

Then, an all-encompassing silence descended.

Aoi's eyes fluttered open, a profound lightness pervading his being, an absence of the pain that had moments before seemed to consume him entirely. He lay sprawled on the asphalt, his senses so dulled that his body felt alien, disconnected. The distinct sensation of being elsewhere was undeniable. A persistent, low hum vibrated in his mind, and the fabric of reality appeared warped and distorted, as if ensnared in a dream.

It was then that an intense warmth washed over him. Perceiving a vast expanse of blood spreading around him, his body felt as though it were ablaze, while simultaneously, an icy coldness seeped into his consciousness.

The sight of people converging around him and the cacophony of blaring horns echoed deeply within his mind as he succumbed to the encroaching darkness.

He attempted to rise, but his legs felt unnaturally heavy, as though time itself conspired against his movement. He tried to call out for his mother, but no sound emerged. The light surrounding him began to warp and twist further, eventually dissolving into a dense fog, leaving him at a silent crossroads. A profound sense of wrongness permeated the air. Something fundamental had shifted.

Consciousness returned to Aoi, but the 20-year-old chasing his dreams was gone. He was now confronted by something far more profound. His fractured reflection stared back from a shattered mirror, a visual metaphor for his unraveling life, the missed opportunities and unspoken regrets. Time felt as though it had accelerated its pace.

Within the blinding luminescence, Aoi's agitated mind began to find stillness. Whether he stood on the precipice of death, lost in a dream, or succumbing to delirium, he could not ascertain. Yet, one truth resonated with unwavering clarity: his current path was no longer sustainable.

"So much remained undone," he murmured as the surrounding light started to dissipate.

Before the full weight of this revelation could settle, the world dissolved into darkness.