Beating the god of destruction

In a dimly lit room, Ray, a middle-aged man in Nigeria, sat on a worn couch, tapping away at his PS console with practiced ease. The walls were cluttered with food cans, a testament to his solitary lifestyle. His fingers moved with precision, navigating through the final battle of the game "Sword Master Useless Son," where he controlled the often-dismissed character, Roy White.

This particular battle pitted Roy against the formidable "God of Destruction," a challenge that had stymied many gamers before him. Ray, however, possessed unique advantages—a deep understanding of the game's mechanics and a secret cheat code that boosted Roy's abilities significantly under specific conditions.

Throughout his years of playing, Ray had not only discovered a way to unlock Roy's hidden potential but also streamed his game play online. His skill and determination drew a massive audience, their donations pouring in as they witnessed his audacious attempt to conquer the game's ultimate challenge.

The battle raged on the screen, each move meticulously calculated as Ray maneuvered Roy through the labyrinthine virtual world. The God of Destruction's digital form loomed large, its attacks relentless and unforgiving. Yet Ray persisted, his tactics honed through countless hours of game play.

As the final clash unfolded, tension mounted in Ray's small room. With a triumphant shout, he finally bested the God of Destruction, a feat that had eluded even the most skilled players in the game's history.

"I did it!" Ray exclaimed, exhilaration coursing through him as he leaped from the couch, fists pumping in victory. The virtual achievement felt real, a testament to his dedication and strategic prowess.

But amidst his jubilation, a familiar sensation gripped Ray—a tightening in his chest that he recognized all too well. Despite having taken his medication just an hour ago, the onset of a heart attack caught him off guard.

Frantically searching his cluttered room, Ray sought his pills, his vision blurring with each passing moment. Panic surged as he collapsed to the floor, his last thoughts echoing a bittersweet realization.

"So this is it," he thought ruefully. "I'll die here, alone."

Yet, as consciousness faded, a profound shift occurred—a transition to a new existence, one that defied all he knew.

---

In the infinite void beyond earthly realms, a figure with white hair stirred from slumber. His piercing blue eyes fixated on a luminous orb, strands of golden light shimmering like lifelines in the darkness.

"It's time," he murmured, voice resonating with purpose as he began to manipulate the threads of fate connected to the orb. Each strand pulsed with potential, its glow hinting at the profound impact it held over the world below.

As he worked, a solemn hope filled him—a hope that the soul now transported would fulfill its destiny. For in a world teetering on the brink of chaos, Ray's journey had only just begun.

---

Meanwhile, in an unfamiliar room, Ray awakened to a reality that defied explanation. The stark white ceiling and mundane surroundings gave way to a realization—one that connected him not just to a game, but to a world where his choices held weight beyond pixels and screens.

"Did I... transcend?" Ray wondered aloud, his thoughts racing as he surveyed the room that mirrored one from the game. The presence of a uniform, scattered books, and a laptop hinted at a new beginning—one intertwined with the fate of Vincent Jobs and the looming threat of the God of Destruction.

He shifted on the bed beneath him, the sheets cool against his skin. It was a simple, unassuming bed, neatly made with hospital corners and a thin blanket folded at the foot. A bedside table stood to his right, holding a small vase with a single daffodil in bloom—a splash of vibrant yellow against the sterile surroundings.

As Ray pushed himself upright, his gaze swept across the room. To his left, a wooden closet stood open, revealing rows of neatly hung uniforms—crisp white shirts and navy blue trousers neatly pressed and ready for wear. A pair of polished black shoes sat at the bottom, beckoning him with their gleam.

Beside the closet, a wooden desk stretched across the wall, cluttered with books of varying sizes and subjects. Some were textbooks, their spines cracked from use, while others appeared to be novels with well-worn covers. A laptop, its screen dark but powered on, sat in the center, its presence a silent invitation to explore further.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of overhead lights, casting gentle shadows that danced across the walls. A single window, adorned with sheer curtains that billowed lightly in an unseen breeze, offered a view of a tranquil courtyard outside—a sanctuary of greenery and blooming flowers that seemed to exist in stark contrast to the turmoil that Ray had left behind.

Ray's mind raced as he took in the details of his new surroundings. This wasn't the cramped apartment in Nigeria where he had spent countless hours gaming and streaming to an audience that spanned continents. It wasn't the cluttered sanctuary of solitude that had become his refuge from the world outside.

"No... this can't be real," Ray muttered to himself, disbelief mingling with a flicker of excitement deep within. He had read about such phenomena—transmigration, reincarnation—tales spun in novels and whispered in gaming forums. Yet, to experience it firsthand was a revelation that defied logic and reason.

"Did I... actually transcend?" Ray whispered, his voice barely audible in the hushed ambiance of the room. He glanced down at himself, noting with a mix of curiosity and unease that he wore attire similar to those hanging in the closet—a stark white shirt and navy trousers that spoke of a uniformity he had never known in his former life.

With tentative steps, Ray approached the desk, his gaze drawn to the laptop's screen. It flickered to life as he approached, revealing a desktop adorned with icons for various applications—a browser, a document editor, and a peculiar symbol that resembled a stylized sword embedded within a shield.

Instinctively, Ray reached out and clicked on the shield icon. A holographic display materialized above the laptop, shimmering with intricate patterns of light that coalesced into words and images. The interface was reminiscent of the user interface from "Sword Master Useless Son," the game he had mastered back in his previous life.

"Status," Ray murmured aloud, testing the limits of this new reality. Instantly, a transparent blue screen materialized before him, displaying information that sent a thrill of recognition and disbelief coursing through his veins.

[Name: Roy White 

Age: 16 

Rank: F 

Affinities: Fire, Earth, Water, Ice, Lightning, Wind 

Skills: Swordsmanship (F)]

Ray stared at the screen, his mind racing to comprehend the implications. He had indeed transcended into the world of "Sword Master Useless Son," but not as himself. Instead, he now inhabited the body of Roy White—an obscure character shunned by gamers for his perceived weaknesses.

A mixture of frustration and determination welled within Ray. "Why Roy White?" he muttered, frustration tinged with the realization that his journey in this new world would begin from a disadvantaged position. Yet, he also felt a surge of determination—the same resolve that had propelled him to conquer the game's challenges from the comfort of his former life.

Outside the window, the courtyard beckoned with a serene tranquility that seemed to mock the turmoil brewing within Ray. Beyond its peaceful facade lay a world on the brink of chaos—a world threatened by the looming presence of the God of Destruction, an entity that he had once vanquished in pixels and code.

"Vincent Jobs," Ray murmured, recalling the protagonist whose destiny was intertwined with the fate of this world. Vincent, the youngest son of the Jobs family—a lineage of esteemed swordsmen cursed with the inability to wield a blade, thanks to the notorious "Sword Mind Breaker."

Ray's thoughts raced, piecing together fragments of lore and game play mechanics that now bore the weight of reality. In this world, Vincent had stumbled upon the grave of a god, gaining a system that bestowed upon him abilities far beyond mortal comprehension.

"I'm here for a reason," Ray declared, his voice infused with newfound determination. "I defeated the God of Destruction once. If I've been brought here, it's because this world needs me to do it again."

With resolve solidifying, Ray turned back to the laptop, his fingers dancing across the keys as he accessed the game's lore and quest logs. Information flowed before him, detailing the impending cataclysm, the alliances forged in desperation, and the shadowy figures lurking in the periphery of power.

"This isn't just a game anymore," Ray mused, his eyes narrowing with newfound purpose. "This is my chance to rewrite destiny—to become more than a gamer confined to a screen."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the courtyard outside, Ray remained immersed in his newfound reality. The room, once a stranger's sanctuary, now resonated with a sense of purpose—a purpose that transcended worlds and challenged him to rise above the limitations that had defined his former existence.

"I'll make a difference in this world," Ray vowed, his reflection in the laptop screen mirroring the determination etched upon his face. "Starting with the defeat of the God of Destruction."

With the weight of destiny upon his shoulders and the echoes of his former life fading into memory, Ray embraced his role as Roy White—a character shunned by gamers, now poised to rewrite the annals of history in a world where every decision carried consequences that could alter the course of humanity's future.

And as he delved deeper into the labyrinthine complexities of "Sword Master Useless Son," Ray knew that his journey had only just begun.