These days, getting sent to another world felt almost normal. Everyone do it but he just doesn't want to.
After saving three different little girls from oncoming traffic, each time by kicking them out of the street just in time to avoid a speeding truck he thought he'd seen every kind of "isekai" trap.
But this time?
A ball rolled onto the crosswalk. A little girl ran after it, clearly pretending not to see the oncoming truck.
And the final worst part?
The truck didn't even have a driver.
"At least put in some effort," he muttered, turning to walk away. "Come on..."
He really underestimated how shameless these trap could get.
Then, right as he took a step, the truck transformed. Metal twisted, tires retracted, and in seconds, a towering Tranformer robot loomed over him, casting a massive shadow.
"Hey, buddy…" the robot rumbled.
Before he could react BAM! a massive metal fist slammed down.
"Spinning Electric Force! 990,000 horsepower! Transmigration Punch! Time to become a hero in another world!"
His vision spun. And just as he thought he was done for, a voice echoed inside his head:
"Congratulations, host! You've been bound to the Godzilla System! You're going to a world where Kaiju fight each other—wait, what?! This isn't even my script!"
Another voice shouted over the chaos. "Young man! Go save the world!"
A panicked quack followed. "Host, I won't let you die! Crap! That 990,000-horsepower punch threw off the dimensional axis! Activating dimensional transport now!"
While the transformer and the system began arguing and eventually fighting their clash tore through the sky, sending shockwaves that made the clouds spiral.
Meanwhile, the little girl who started it all stood at the side of the road, watching with a blank face. "…So overdramatic," she sighed.
Up in the sky, the battle only got crazier.
"WiFi Rocket Punch!"
"Terms & Fist-ditions!"
"Blue Screen Kick!"
"404 Sword Slash!"
"Lag Spike Dropkick!"
Metal clanged, lightning cracked, and the fate of another world rested on who won the dumbest fight in multiverse history. Both want to send the hero or in this case cough, a victim to their targeted worlds.
Both sides unleashed their ultimate power, their strength rising to ridiculous heights. The final clash hurled them apart, both reeling from the blow.
"Huh?!" The girl's eyes turned sharp, and in an instant, she summoned the true monsters of the Cybertron universe: Optimus Prime, Megatron, the actual Hell God of War. And they weren't alone. Soundwave, Starscream—even Unicron himself showed up.
The fight finished in a instant. She restored the shattered world with a power no words could describe, resetting everything back to a more ordinary version of events: an innocent bystander getting hit by a truck.
But in the middle of all that, he ended up flattened like a bug. Still, his mission was accomplished.
The system had successfully taken him through reincarnation, only to be hijacked mid-transfer by the transfromers.
When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was Space Godzilla, just emerging from a black hole, charging straight at him.
Their eyes met, his tiny human ones and that monster's massive, glowing ones. Dazed from the impact, he didn't even have time to scream before his soul shot off again, hurtling toward a mountain like a meteor.
Then, somewhere in that half-conscious state, he dreamed of digging into an egg. Strange, but oddly vivid.
'...Wait. Why do I have something in my mouth?'
Waking up groggy and confused, he looked around. The place was wild and desolate, like a forest wasteland.
Looking down, he froze.
There, lying in his arms, was a corpse, at least several times his size.
Gutted, torn apart, its intestines flopped out across the ground. Its head was cradled in his limbs. And he… he was drinking from it.
'Wait. No. No way.'
Instinctively, he slurped up a bit more of the red and white mush, brain matter. It didn't taste awful. In fact, for some reason, it felt… normal. Maybe whatever creature he had become liked this sort of thing.
"So what the hell am I now?"
He blinked slowly, feeling oddly satisfied. His body worked fast, absorbing the meat into a blazing-hot stomach, digesting with a hunger that felt more like a furnace.
"Uh… still kind of foggy. What's my name again? Where's my system…?"
But The primal hunger overrode everything. Instinct kicked back in full force, dragging his thoughts down to a more beast-like level. And honestly, the meat didn't taste that bad, so he dived right back into the feast.
Fur that stuck to his teeth, bones too tough to crunch, flesh that tore apart and slid down his throat he chewed, bit, and swallowed without pause. Somehow, without even realizing it, he managed to eat something that had been much larger than himself.
His digestion was terrifying. Bite after bite, his once scrawny, fragile body bulked up, slowly filling out with muscle and weight. He grew bigger every time he swallowed.
Old, patchy scales of red and black began to fall off in flakes, revealing fresh, gleaming ones beneath. Even his twin horns seemed to shift shape slightly, becoming sharper, more refined.
Time lost meaning. But when he snapped back to full awareness, all that was left around him were a few scraps of meat, broken bones, and bloodstains.
"…Did I really eat all that?"
He tried to raise a paw to his mouth in a human like gesture of disbelief, but his limb didn't quite reach, so he gave up with a sigh.
Now that his mind was running at full speed again, he tried to sort through everything.
Who was he, really? What was his name before all this?
"Was my last name... Ichigo? What about my first name? And the dragon's true name, wait... dragon?"
He froze for a second. That thought hit different. "Dragon's true name? Inheritance? Wait, am I really a dragon?"
He glanced down at himself. Hard to get a good view in this awkward body, but he had serious doubts. He didn't feel like some majestic legendary creature. More like something freshly born out of a nuclear accident.
Whatever this body was, it didn't scream "dragon." Maybe a kaiju, sure.
Then again, the so-called inheritance felt incomplete. He hadn't gotten any magic, bloodline powers, or cool abilities, just a single thing his "true name," apparently passed down from his parents.
Everything else? Blank.
Instead, all he had were random bits of knowledge, scattered fragments like memories of how his ancestors died, usually at the hands of other powerful races.
Come to think of it, maybe he wasn't born right. Impure bloodline, incomplete transformation… just another failed egg in a clutch of dragonspawn.
Not every egg hatches a true dragon, after all. And when they don't, things go bad.
Some end in stillbirth. Others, like him, hatch but can't handle the flood of inherited memories and end up regressing into twisted, brainless dragon beasts.
True dragons didn't even consider them family. At least sub-dragons had some intelligence.
These malformed ones? Just trash.
But maybe... maybe his current soul had filled that void. A foreign consciousness waking up in a shell that was supposed to be empty.
It would explain a lot. But that only raised more questions, the biggest being,
"Where the hell's my system? You here, buddy? System?"