Azrael - Angel Of Death

ar has tw

everythi

erything

e. The walls were cluttered with food cans, a testament to his solitary lifestyle. His fingers moved with precision, navigatin

ied many gamers before him. Ray, however, possessed unique advantages-a deep understanding of the game's

but also streamed his game play online. His skill and determination drew a massive audience, their d

e labyrinthine virtual world. The God of Destruction's digital form loomed large, its attacks rele

h a triumphant shout, he finally bested the God of Destruction, a fea

leaped from the couch, fists pumping in victory. The virtual achiev

n his chest that he recognized all too well. Despite having taken his medi

vision blurring with each passing moment. Panic surged as he collaps

thought ruefully. "I

d shift occurred-a transition to a new

-

stirred from slumber. His piercing blue eyes fixated on a luminous or

ulate the threads of fate connected to the orb. Each strand pulsed with pote

ow transported would fulfill its destiny. For in a world teet

-

n. The stark white ceiling and mundane surroundings slowly revealed themselves, connecting me not jus

rrored one from the game. The sight of a uniform, scattered books, and a laptop hinted at a new beginn

corners and a thin blanket folded neatly at its foot. A bedside table stood nearby, adorned with

closet revealed rows of impeccably hung uniforms-crisp white shirts and navy blue

ll-loved textbooks, their spines creased from frequent use, while others were novels with covers that showed signs of many

he walls. Through a sheer-curtained window, I glimpsed a serene courtyard outside, a sanctuary of g

thin me. Stories of transmigration and reincarnation had always been fodder for novel

ng down, I noted with a strange blend of curiosity and unease that I wore clothes similar to those i

ered to life, displaying a desktop cluttered with icons-familiar symbols of various applications: a bro

he world kno

ed at th

, shimmering with intricate patterns that coalesced into words and images. The interface resembl

. Instantly, a transparent blue screen appeared, presenting info

: Roy

e:

nk

Earth, Water, Ic

Swordsma

nded into the world of "Sword Master Useless Son," not as myself but inhabiting

at my journey in this new world would begin from a disadvantaged position. Yet, alongside the frustration, a resolve sti

ewing within me. Beyond its peaceful facade lay a world teetering on the edge of chaos-a world threatened by t

fate of this world. Vincent, the youngest son of the Jobs family-a lineage of revered sw

he weight of reality. In this world, Vincent had stumbled upon the grave of a god,

wfound purpose. "I defeated the God of Destruction once. If I've b

keys as I delved into the game's lore and quest logs. Information unfolded before me, detailing the impendi

ing with newfound resolve. "This is my chance to rewrite dest

ed in my newfound reality. The room, once a stranger's sanctuary, now resonated with purpose-a purpose th

on in the laptop screen mirroring the determination etched upo

background, I embraced my role as Roy White-a character overlooked by gamers, now poised t

omplexities of "Sword Master Useless Son,"