Starting out as a Dragon Slave

Isaac was nothing special. A humdrum life, a well-oiled routine: work, screen, sleep. And the next day, the same thing all over again. Sometimes he wondered if that was really what living was all about.

If there was one thing he was passionate about, it was samurai stories. Not to the point of obsession, but he loved their discipline, their code of honour, the way they faced death without flinching. It fascinated him. Sometimes he found himself imitating their movements with a wooden bokken he'd bought on a whim. Just for fun.

That night, he was walking in the rain, his hands deep in his pockets. He was humming a tune from an old samurai film. A scene stuck in his mind: a wounded warrior advancing towards his last battle, without fear or regret.

That's what a true warrior is, he thought. He doesn't back down. He accepts his fate.

A thud. A screech.

Isaac looked up. Too late. The headlights of a lorry blinded him. A brutal shock. A searing pain. Then... nothing.

A start. A gulp of air.

Isaac suddenly opened his eyes. A cracked ceiling. A musty smell. A rough blanket against his skin. His heart was pounding.

- What the...?

He put a trembling hand to his chest. He was supposed to be dead. Yet here he was.

His gaze drifted to a cracked mirror against the wall. What he saw took his breath away.

A teenager was reflecting back at him. Scraggly black hair, piercing grey eyes, a face scarred by hunger. It wasn't him.

Or rather... it wasn't the Isaac he knew.

A wave of pain exploded in his head. He bent double, clutching his skull. Memories assaulted him. Images, voices, sensations... A life that wasn't his own.

- Aah...

Snippets fell into place. That body belonged to another Isaac. A street urchin. Born into poverty. He lived in an unforgiving world, where portals led to monster-infested dungeons. If their boss wasn't killed in three days, the creatures would escape and devastate everything.

The only people who could stand up to them were the Hunters. Awakened with magical power, ranked from F to SS. The higher their rank, the more powerful they were.

The old Isaac had been 'lucky': he had awakened. But with an F rank, he had no future. Just another outcast.

And now he was dead.

The room fell silent. Isaac took a deep breath, trying to assimilate the absurd reality.

- No... I'm alive.

His voice was younger, huskier. But it was his.

The shock of transmigration didn't wear off immediately. His heart was still beating wildly, and every breath he took was jerky, almost painful. Everything inside him screamed that something was wrong. That this body wasn't his.

He ran a hand over his face, then down his arm. His skin was rougher, his muscles too thin, as if he hadn't had enough to eat for days. His stomach cramped violently, bending him in two for a moment.

- Shit... This is really real.

The musty smell suddenly assaulted him. He took a deeper breath, trying to recognise his surroundings. Dust, mould, a vague smell of rusty metal. Nothing familiar.

He wanted to stand up, but his legs trembled under his weight, as if they'd forgotten how to work. He put one hand on the wall to steady himself. The effort left him breathless.

A shiver ran up his spine. It wasn't just a question of a different body. It was an oppressive sensation, as if his own being was still struggling against this new envelope.

Finally, he sat up slowly, looking at his thinner hands, his skinny arms. This body was weak, fragile. But it wasn't an end. It was a new beginning.

He approached the mirror, staring into his own eyes. A wry smile stretched his lips.

- HAHAHA, here I can be whoever I want to be, even if I am a pitiful rank F shit. he said, trying to move.

His frail body protested with every movement, as if he were on the verge of collapse. He leaned against the cold wall, feeling the roughness of the concrete under his fingers. The room was cramped and poorly lit. Barely a wobbly table, a torn mattress on the floor, a few worn clothes piled up in a corner. It was miserable.

- Did this kid really live here?

A bitter laugh escaped him. He had found his life before empty and monotonous... What he saw before him was much worse. He forced himself to move, slowly exploring the restricted space. Every step was an effort. Hunger twisted his stomach, a sensation he wasn't used to. His limbs were stiff, as if he hadn't moved for days.

He approached a small window and drew aside the dingy curtain. A dark alleyway stretched out before him, lined with grey, dilapidated buildings. Further along, coloured lights flickered, casting an artificial glow on the dirty walls. The air smelt of cheap food mixed with rubbish.

A scratching sound caught his attention. He looked down to see an old radio lying on the table. It seemed to be out of order, but a faint crackling sound was still emanating from it. He turned the volume knob, hoping to pick up something understandable.

- ... again today, a team of B-rank Hunters was decimated while attempting to close a level 3 rift. The authorities are reminding civilians to avoid high-risk areas and to report any suspicious sightings...'

Isaac frowned. He understood the words, but their meaning still escaped him in part. He knew from the boy's memories that this world was overrun with monsters. That portals opened regularly, releasing creatures that shouldn't exist. But hearing it with his own ears made it all the more real.

He switched off the radio and leaned against the wall. He had to understand where he had ended up. He rummaged through the piles of clothes and found a worn jacket which he put on before heading for the door. His hand hesitated on the handle. A dull anxiety knotted his stomach.

What am I going to find outside?

He shook off the uncertainty and turned the handle. A gust of cold air greeted him. The building was in a bad state of repair, the walls covered in graffiti, the stairs creaking under his weight. He descended cautiously, observing every detail around him. The further he went, the more information his mind provided, like buried memories resurfacing.

He lived in a poor district, forgotten by the authorities, where only the strongest survived. High-ranking Hunters lived in luxurious towers, protected by their status.

But here, there were only wandering souls, broken workers and young people left to their own devices.

As he stepped out into the alleyway, a chill breeze whipped across his face. He pulled his jacket tighter around him and looked around. Neon lights were flashing in the distance, advertising seedy bars and dodgy shops. Silhouettes passed by, wrapped up in worn coats, their eyes downcast. He caught snatches of conversation.

- '... Another gate that opened near the centre.' - 'They say it was a level 4... It's getting worse and worse.' - 'We don't need this here... We've got enough problems already.'

Isaac felt a shiver of apprehension. He walked slowly, letting his mind put the pieces together. He wasn't just in a world with monsters. He was in a broken world, where inequality was exacerbated, where only the powerful were allowed to live comfortably.

And he, Isaac, was at the bottom of the ladder.

His gaze fell on a dusty shop window. He moved closer and looked at his reflection. His face was thin, his cheeks sunken. His eyes, however, had a gleam that he didn't recognise in the memories of the previous Isaac.

He took a deep breath.

- I've got a second chance. It's up to me to get out of this!