Denji was a fan of novels.
Not just the bestsellers, not even the classics. No—his favorites were the kind buried deep in translation forums and long-forgotten app libraries. Webnovels. Reincarnated protagonists. Gaming systems. Cultivation cheats. Sci-fi or Cyberpunk.;They were formulaic, sure, but something about them scratched an itch reality never could.
Of course, he never expected to be in one.
No truck-kun. No epic boss fight. Just... rebirth into a baby's body, surrounded by robots, on a spaceship named the Axiom.
And now this.
Floating in the dark above his bed was a translucent blue screen—shimmering slightly like a mirage.
[Initializing System…]
[Synchronization Complete.]
He blinked, still groggy from his birthday celebration. His hover pod hung by the door. The room was still and dim.
But the system's interface hovered there, steady.
Then—
[Beginning neural imprint… please stand by.]
Denji's eyes widened. "What do you mea—"
The world tilted.
His head snapped back against the pillow. Lights surged behind his eyes. Like a thousand tiny needles of electricity threading through his skull. No pain. Just clarity. Symbols, codes, diagrams. A machine's voice—calm, cold, and endless—whispered specs and systems into his mind.
Then...
Silence.
---
He gasped awake.
His body felt heavy, yet electric. His skin damp with sweat. It had only been a few seconds, maybe a minute at most—but something fundamental had changed.
New knowledge sat heavy in his mind.
The function of the system.
Not a mission-type interface, not a level-up RPG clone. No.
It was a Sign-In System.
A legendary kind of cheat found in dozens of those novels he used to read back on Earth.
The type that handed the MC a daily reward just for existing. Overpowered artifacts. Lost cultivation manuals. Alien gear.
Except here, the prizes weren't just for show.
This one gave technology, gadgets, and materials from other universes.
[Welcome, Denji Tachibana]
[Would you like to sign in for today?]
His heart skipped.
He swallowed hard and muttered, "…Yeah. Sign in."
A soft hum filled the air. A golden glow surged through the hologram like sunlight pouring through water.
[Sign-In Successful.]
[Reward: Morphogenetic Field Device]
[Origin: "The Game is Too Realistic"]
[Description: A singularity-grade pillar terminal used for spiritual projection. Enables the transfer of consciousness into surrogate bodies. Compatible with Earth-based and otherworldly soul patterns.]
'Wait, Did I read that right?' Denji thought as he read it again.
Denji shot up in bed. "No freaking way…"
He knew that novel. The Game is Too Realistic—it was a niche webnovel he'd read during high school. The MC created a hyper-immersive survival game that connected souls from one world to living avatars in another.
It wasn't just a cheat. It was a foundation. The core tech that let the protagonist build an entire Alliance from nothing.
And now… he had it.
[Item stored in Inventory.]
He opened the system's tab again, heart racing. The inventory tab pulsed to life—empty except for one glowing icon: a black-and-silver vertical structure, obelisk-like, with curved engravings and a floating interface core.
[Morphogenetic Field Device]
[Type: Technological Construct]
[Use: Consciousness Projection Hub]
[Notes: Requires base setup, power source, and compatible avatars for activation.]
Denji stared in disbelief.
In his past life, he'd worked on backend servers for a game company. Long nights. Buggy updates. CEO breathing down his neck for microtransactions and launch deadlines. But this—this was a blank slate.
A system that gave him tech.
A broken Earth out there, left by its previous civilization.
And a device that could let others enter this world from his old one.
He clenched his fists as something inside him shifted—burned.
A passion he hadn't felt in years came roaring back. The same thrill he used to have building games. Except now, it wasn't some corporate product.
It would be his.
"That world… will be my playground."
He glanced at the Morphogenetic Field icon again.
No more waiting. No more passive existence.
Denji Tachibana was done sitting.