Chapter 4: Acceptance Letter

Reincarnators… regressors… every kind of web-fiction protagonist always seemed to wake up with a System strapped to their soul.

A leveling system, a crafting system, a villain-punishment system, a smut system… hell, Mateo had seen systems so ridiculous he refused to believe any god would willingly attach their name to them.

Yet here he was, staring at a floating screen with a font clean enough to belong in some premium gacha game, wondering what cosmic joke he had walked into.

’But then again… I guess I should be happy I got a System,’ he thought grudgingly as he crossed his arms. ’But it’s sentient? Does that mean I can use it like an AI or something? That wouldn’t be too bad.’

He cleared his throat. “Where am I?”

The screen pulsed once, as though it were thinking, before new text materialized smoothly.

「You are currently in a manga world known as “Ore wa shujinkō dakara, mochiron utsukushii hiroin-tachi o sukuu,” which you criticized yesterday. This manga was the creation of the God of Novelty.」

Kōya blinked twice.

“…God of Novelty my ass. You can’t even write a good manga,” he muttered without hesitation, shaking his head before focusing on the screen again. “So let me get this straight. Because I criticized his manga, he decided to throw me into the body of the protagonist, with a system that wants me to… what? Save the heroines? I don’t have time for that bullshit. They can help themselves.”

The system patiently continued.

「Your original body has been completely eviscerated as you died in your sleep.」

“Huh?” He looked sharply back at the screen. “How the hell did that even happen?”

「The God of Novelty wanted to leave you with injuries that would prevent you from streaming further. He sent a truck flying through your apartment. You were crushed to death. This reincarnation is your compensation.」

’Talk about new levels of divine bullying…’ he thought, rubbing his face.

It wasn’t even the fact that a god had tried to kill him that bothered him. He had dealt with strangers online telling him to kill himself at least a dozen times a week; divine violence wasn’t anything new at this point.

’Honestly, I’m kind of proud. I got a divine being mad enough to beef with me.’

Gods were supposed to be untouchable. He had managed to offend one. In its own genre, no less.

“So is there any difference between this world and the original manga?” he asked, resisting the urge to slump against the counter.

「There is absolutely no difference except one. Your following and content have transferred into this world. You still criticize manga, but under a masked persona. If you appear on stream with your face, your followers will go wild.」

“Damn,” he muttered, grimacing.

The one thing he hated more than cringe writing was masked streamers. The internet always imagined masked creators as ethereal, perfect, otherworldly beauties.

Show your face and suddenly you’re getting roasted into oblivion if you don’t match the fantasy they built in their heads.

He had watched multiple careers burn because of it.

’That’s why I told them the truth early. I was fat, ugly as shit, and not even worth fantasizing about, so they never built expectations,’ he thought with a sigh. ’I could handle a masked account now, but I should get more crests first. At least get the glow-up advantage.’

He exhaled slowly. “So what’s my focus? Saving heroines?”

The screen flickered.

「Saving heroines is one of the System’s functions, but it is not compulsory.」

He raised an eyebrow. “…Really?”

「The God of Novelty listened to your review. The world has been upgraded based on your rant. While you are not required to save heroines, doing so provides rewards that Awakeners in this world would kill for.」

’Damn.’ His posture straightened slightly. Rewards like that didn’t appear often in systems unless they were broken.

Although he still didn’t care much about the heroines… except Shion, he definitely cared about power.

Before he could ask his next question, the door creaked open.

Small footsteps shuffled into the room, and Kōya turned just in time to see a petite girl holding a smartphone that looked suspiciously like an iPhone.

Her hair was a soft black, neatly tied, and she wore a simple home outfit with a childish bear pattern.

He recognized her instantly… from the manga, from the memories, and now from instinct.

“Reona… what are you doing with my phone?” he asked.

She stared at him for a long second as though trying to figure out whether he was the same person she had grown up with.

“Onii-chan, I was watching some videos of course,” she said with that soft, slightly bratty look manga little sisters always seemed to have. “I made breakfast too. Remember? The letter is coming in today.”

’Right… the acceptance letter should be coming in today,’ he remembered.

He took the phone from her gently. “Yeah, I’ll come downstairs.”

He began walking past her, but he could feel her eyes drilling into his back with suspicion.

“What?” he asked.

“You usually give me head-pats,” she said, puffing her cheeks adorably as she crossed her arms. “Onii-chan is being weird.”

Kōya sighed internally.

He still wasn’t used to being taller than someone by default, and he definitely wasn’t used to being called Onii-chan with such sincerity, but he lowered his hand anyway and patted her head carefully.

Reona let out a satisfied purr, leaning into his palm before grabbing his wrist and dragging him toward the stairs. “Come on, Onii-chan!”

…

Kōya sat at the small dining table on the first floor and looked around in mild disbelief.

The table had actual chairs. The living room had clean furniture and a working television.

There was even an upstairs area where he and Reona slept separately… nothing like the cramped, miserable shoebox he had lived in on Earth.

’What the hell? My old apartment didn’t even have a dining area,’ he thought, running a hand across the smooth wooden surface. ’This one looks… middle class. Comfortable even.’

Reona placed two dishes on the table… steaming miso soup, grilled salmon, and neatly cut tamagoyaki.

A traditional Japanese breakfast, simple but undeniably good.

“You got a lot of money from your stream yesterday,” she said proudly, pressing her hands together. “So I took a bit out of your account to make breakfast. I… I hope you like it, Onii-chan.”

’I’ve never eaten Japanese food before,’ he thought hesitantly, staring at the perfectly cooked salmon.

But Kōya’s body remembered the flavors, and he could already feel the instincts guiding him. He picked up the chopsticks with surprising ease.

Just as he was about to start eating, a sharp knock echoed from the front door.

“That must be the delivery man!” Reona said as she jumped to her feet. “Wait here, Onii-chan! I’ll get it!”

She dashed off with cheerful energy, her slippers tapping lightly against the wooden floor.

A moment later, she returned with a rectangular parcel pressed against her chest, excitement glowing in her eyes.

“It’s for you! Open it! Open it!” she said, placing it gently in front of him.

The emblem stamped on the box made his heart skip… a star-shaped crest with wings on either side.

A.L.I.

Aurora Leadership Institute.

He tore the seal open and unfolded the smooth paper inside. His eyes scanned the printed text, confirmation plastered in bold lettering.

“I got accepted,” he said quietly, holding the letter up.

Reona practically launched herself at him, he arms wrapping around his torso as she bounced in joy.

“Onii-chan! That’s amazing! You did it! You really did it!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep