Start at Solo Leveling: Instant Death Touch!

Sung Yon-Woo's awareness came back to life like a man gasping for air after drowning. His chest shot up quickly, and a bright light from the ceiling blinded him. There was the buzzing of a fan, the talk of students far away, and the fresh smell of paper and ink. It all hit him at once.

His head hurt. Memories that weren't his merged with his own, like walking home from school, studying for tests, and sneaking snacks into class. But there was something else, something big and heavy, lying beneath those normal memories. A life that went on longer than human years, full of fights, betrayals, and power that no one could understand.

He moved his fingers. It wasn't him in his body. The truth hit him like a big stone: he had transmigrated.

Yon-Woo let out a shaky breath and looked down at his hands. They were softer and smaller. A school outfit stuck to his strange body. He made fists. He took a deeper breath. Before he became scared, he needed to know what had happened.

He felt a strange but familiar force moving under his skin. It pushed him to test and move. He looked down at a pencil that was lying on the desk. He couldn't help but run his fingers along it.

As soon as his skin touched the pencil, it turned darker. Not just darker; it rotted. Its surface broke up into small pieces, worn away by an unseen force until it crumbled into fine dust.

His heart was beating fast as Yon-Woo pulled his hand back.

He looked at the mess that was where the pencil had been. Still, his fingers were tingly. He had a cheat! It was like there was a pull under his skin, telling him to erase and end.

His breath shook. He was able to kill concepts and entities!

The chair next to him hit the ground. One of the students sighed and dropped his bag as he sat down. Yon-Woo had just about time to think when someone pushed against his arm with their elbow.

"Hey, how are you? "You were off for a second there."

Yon-Woo jumped back. His senses were screaming at him, and he tightened up his muscles and curled his fingers in to avoid touching her. He was not able to touch him. He couldn't do that unless he was interested in what happened when his power met real people.

He had to nod, but his hands stayed firmly on his lap. "Yeah, just... lost in thought."

The classmate smiled. "It can happen to anyone. In any case, Mr. Park is coming, so take out your notes. We don't want to upset him.

Yun-Woo barely heard the words. His mind was reeling, trying to make sense of the fact that he was alive.

His body wasn't here. His world wasn't this. He also held back a power that, with just one touch, could cause death of anything.

Yon-Woo sneaked out of his house that night with his hood down. He had to show proof. He had to know exactly what he could do.

There was a stray cat in the alley hiding next to a trash can. Its eyes were shining in the dim streetlight. As he crouched down next to it and put out a slow, steady hand, it watched him suspiciously, its ears moving.

His hands stroked its fur. The cat tensed right away. Its body stopped moving, and its eyes stayed wide. Then there was nothing. There was no last breath or slow fade. Nothing but quiet. Lack of life.

Yon-Woo pulled his hand away and stared at the still figure. His chest got tight. It wasn't just rotting. It was inevitable.

He heard a stirring sound and turned around. A rat ran close and sniffed the air, not noticing the quiet death next to it. Yon-Woo thought for a moment, then reached down and touched the back of it with his fingers.

It came out the same way. Right away, no life.

But this time, inside him, something changed. A small shock, like a spark going through his body. His vision got clearer. It became easier to hear what was going on in the alley, and his muscles felt a little lighter and stronger.

He took a deep breath in. He could do more than just kill. It pushed something, like power or life force. But not all the way. Could it be fifty percent?

Yon-Woo stood up and clenched his hands. He needed to be careful. He had to know how far he could go. Did it only touch? Could he handle it? But what was more important was what this meant for him.

Could he live like any other student? Could he pay for it?

He wasn't ready to face the answer that made his fingers tingle.