FOUR [ R ]

There were a lot of different emotions Reika felt when she woke up in Ryohei's body — confusion, frustration, curiosity, and even fear. But if there was one feeling that lingered the most throughout the weekend she had transmigrated, it was agony. Agony that gnawed at her, annoying her with endless questions: Why had she woken up in such a scary and dangerous universe? Why was she the one chosen to be reincarnated here? Why did she have to figure out this new life on her own?

And more importantly — why did she have to go to work right now?

Reika, now Ryohei, sighed heavily as she came to terms with the bitter truth: Ryohei wasn't some unemployed self-proclaimed Warrior-in-Training. No, he was a normal office worker, fresh off a two-month leave. And just her luck, the first Monday after her transmigration would be his first day back. As if the universe hadn't already dumped enough on her plate, now she had to navigate office life in this new world… as a man.

Over the weekends, Ryohei uncovered several things about the world he had been unwillingly thrown into. Oddly enough, this place was still called Earth, but the country names sounded more like something out of a fantasy novel. The country he found himself in was called Valesira, which was divided into four sectors: North, East, South, and West — Ryohei currently residing in the East. When he first heard the name, his mind immediately formed images of a world with mediaeval castles and knights — just like the world from her dream. But the reality was far from that.

Valesira was as modern as any bustling metropolis, a unique blend of sleek Japanese aesthetics mixed with the towering skyscrapers of New York. The streets were lined with the same cars that Ryohei had been familiar with in Reika's universe, and most of the technology seemed identical too. It was confusing yet interesting, to say the least.

"At least I've got Crystallise under control," he muttered to himself. "...For now."

His mind flashed back to the training he'd forced himself to follow through, assuming that it was probably what the original Ryohei had wanted. After missing the first session due to the shock of waking up in a stranger's body, Ryohei decided to follow through with the routine — starting that same night and continuing the next day. But just the memory of it sent chills down his spine.

100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats…

He shuddered, his face growing pale. And that wasn't even the worst of it.

Perform Meditation training for 20 minutes, spend the next 20 minutes on the punching bag, practice wielding a sword for another 20 minutes, and finish with an hour of running.

"Meditation training was hell…" Ryohei stopped in his tracks, a weary sigh escaping his lips. "A monster… Ryohei was a monster."

He was surprised to still be standing after the intense workout, impressed by Ryohei's remarkable physique. His body had endured more than Reika ever thought possible. If she had attempted this routine in her original body, there'd be no one left to take over Ryohei's. Over the three days he had been trapped here, Ryohei discovered new things about this unfamiliar body — some he appreciated, others… less so.

The sudden chirp of the traffic light cut his thoughts short, signalling that it was time for pedestrians to cross.

Blinking back to reality, Ryohei remembered that he was, in fact, on his way to his workplace. "How exciting," he mumbled sarcastically. Another sigh escaped his lips as he stepped onto the crosswalk, the weight of his new life pressing down with every step. Though he hadn't inherited any of Ryohei's memories, the streets and the landmarks — they all felt oddly familiar, as if they had always been part of his memory.

"Muscle memory," Ryohei muttered as he entered the towering corporate building, assuming that was the case. He stood in awe at the cool and polished interior of the lobby, which gleamed brilliantly under the sunlight streaming through the wide glass windows. 

Despite the seemingly calm interior, the lobby was bustling with people, all prepping for the start of the workday. As he approached the packed gantry, he found himself annoyed by how suffocating the crowd felt — though it wasn't until the rush for the elevator that the real squeeze began.

Once inside, his finger instinctively pressed a familiar button. "Muscle memory," he repeated to himself, though a gnawing sense of discomfort crept in as the elevator ascended. When he finally stepped onto the office floor, he finally understood the reason behind the unusual feeling.

He unlocked the door to the office he supposedly worked at, greeted by an oddly strange yet familiar smell that clung to the air. It was unpleasant, to say the least. It wasn't that the scent was foul; instead, it felt… traumatising. Ryohei couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the atmosphere felt almost suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in. His eyes wandered around the office, taking in the sight of computers filling the room and dark-painted walls, while the hum of machines added an underlying tension.

Hm? This is the office? 

"Oh, he's back?"

The whisper came from behind. He glanced over his shoulders and caught sight of a few colleagues glancing his way before quickly turning their heads when they noticed him watching, as if caught doing something illegal. His brow furrowed. Something was off, and it wasn't just his reluctance to work in this new life.

He felt eyes following him as he made his way to his desk — his feet moving on their own. As he approached, his irritation grew. A towering stack of files was scattered onto his workspace. His desk, it seemed, had become a storage space in his absence.

"Ryohei! You're back already?"

A male voice called out as an arm slinged casually over his shoulder. Ryohei turned to see a pale-skinned man with brown hair grinning at him. An inexplicable sense of irritation stirred inside him the moment the man's face came into view.

"Elio," the name slipped from his lips before he could even process it. The man's grin widened, but it wasn't friendly — it was sly, almost mocking.

"How've you been, buddy? It's been what, two months? We missed you so much." The last words dripped with insincerity as Elio gestured towards the heap of documents. "But, y'know, you left us with so much work. We were practically dying!"

Ryohei barely reacted as his eyes drifted to the pile, ignoring the brown-haired man. "Whose files are these?" he asked, pushing Elio's arm off with deliberate nonchalance.

Elio blinked in surprise before bursting into laughter. "What's with the attitude? Relax! We didn't have space, so we just put them there. Temporarily."

His gaze flickered to the empty desks, noting the hypocrisy in Elio's words. Setting his bag down, he felt the weight of eyes on him — some filled with mockery, others with a cruel curiosity. Giggles echoed through the office, sharp and stinging like a cruel joke. But Ryohei remained silent, finding a strange amusement in the absurdity of this entire situation.

"Well," Elio continued, leaning in with a smirk, "Since they're already here, how about you help us with these? Y'know, since you've been gone for so long. It's the least you could do for us."

Elio's words were filled with malice, clearly guilt-tripping him. Ryohei looked at the man, almost unbothered, as he connected the dots. Ah. Workplace harassment. Explains the two-month break, he thought, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He chuckled softly, catching everyone off guard. "That's a funny joke," he replied, his tone dry.

Elio's laughter faltered, confusion creeping in. "H-Hey… You're Ryohei, right?"

Ryohei raised a brow. "Do I not look like him?" Without another word, he grabbed the stack of files and shoved them into Elio's arms. "I've got my own work to do so I'll give these back to you."

The office fell silent. Shocked stares and a few disgusted expressions, but no one dared to speak. Elio stood dumbfounded, papers spilling from his arms. It took a few seconds for him to regain his composure, his lips twisting into a sarcastic smile. "Hah! Look at you. The break really changed you, huh? What, you're not in E-rank anymore?"

"No, I'm still E-rank," Ryohei said nonchalantly, pulling out his chair before sitting on it.

Elio's face darkened. "Then you still dare talk to us like that—"

"Sorry, then," Ryohei interrupted, not even glancing at the latter as he started his computer. His calmness unnerved Elio, whose retort was cut short by the sound of a deeper voice by the entrance of the office.

"What's going on here?"

Everyone's heads snapped towards the voice, their composure crumbling. Ryohei noticed Elio subtly stepping away from him, a nervous twitch in his movements. He turned to face the source of the voice, and a strange sense of relief washed over him. Standing at the entrance was a middle-aged man who exuded a calm yet powerful authority. But rather than feeling fearful like the rest of the office, Ryohei found the air to be lighter the moment he appeared.

"Director," Ryohei muttered under his breath, recognising him at once. Jin Ito, the name echoed in his mind. He couldn't recall every detail about the man, but one thing was clear — Jin carried weight and power in this place.

"Ah, sir! We were just welcoming Ryohei back," Elio chimed in with a forced grin, his voice trembling slightly. 

"Is that so," Jin's voice was smooth, but Ryohei could tell that he didn't believe Elio. His gaze flicked to Ryohei, catching him off guard. "Ryohei, come to my office. The rest of you — get to work."

The tension in the room spiked, and Jin's eyes landed on the pile of scattered files. "Elio," he added, "pick those up. I need them on my desk by today."

"Huh— W-what?" Elio stammered, his face paling. "But sir, those aren't due until next week—"

"And?" Jin's single word was like a knife, slicing through the protest. His tone was cold, commanding immediate obedience. The room seemed to freeze in fear, a piercing silence filling the room.

Elio swallowed hard, bowing his head in defeat. "Understood, sir." He clicked his tongue before scrambling to gather the fallen files, his earlier bravado completely deflated.

Jin's gaze lingered on him for a moment before he gestured towards Ryohei. "Let's go." Without waiting for a response, he turned around, heading for his office. Ryohei stood and followed, his footsteps light but deliberate.

As they passed through the office, Ryohei couldn't help but notice the angry glares and hushed whispers aimed at him. He chuckled softly to himself, finding the shift in tone almost amusing. Whatever Ryohei's life had been like here before, it was clear that it hasn't been easy.

Truth be told, Reika was just like the original Ryohei — a pushover and a people pleaser. But there was one stark difference between them: Reika knew her limits. She wasn't the type to say no when others needed help, but at the same time, she wouldn't tolerate doing tasks drenched in malice.

To her, equality mattered. In fact, it was the most important thing for her. Without wealth and power, humans were all just the same skin and bones. The belief of 'treat others how they treat you' had followed her into this new world. She wasn't someone who sought confrontation, but she wouldn't stand by and absorb blows like a punching bag either.

Reika had pride that, apparently, the original Ryohei didn't.

The way Elio spoke to him and how his colleagues acted towards him told the current Ryohei all he needed to know. The old Ryohei had swallowed his pride, reduced to doing others' work and obeying them, perhaps because of his low rank.

Ryohei's mind was flooded with these thoughts, his footsteps almost robotic as he followed Jin to the director's office. The silence between them was heavy. Jin didn't turn back to speak, and Ryohei wasn't one to strike up a conversation either. But the director's imposing figure surprisingly didn't feel suffocating, at least when compared to the weight of this unfamiliar world.

He flinched when he realised they had arrived. Jin's assistants swung the door open with practised ease, and the power radiating from Jin as he entered sent a shiver through Ryohei. The scene felt proper and powerful, one that made Ryohei pause for a second too long as he watched the assistants retreat with the heavy doors closing behind them.

What am I even doing here? Ryohei thought, feeling out of place in a world he barely knew, yet bound by feelings that were not really his.

Ryohei stepped into the office and stood there, awkwardly folding his hands in front of him as Jin strode to his large chair behind the desk. The director, who had seemed so imposing just moments ago, suddenly broke into laughter the second he looked at Ryohei.

"What're you standing there all dumbfounded?" Jin's hearty laugh filled the room, instantly dispelling the tension. "Two months away and you act like you've never been here before! Sit down like you always do!"

Ryohei blinked. The shift in Jin's demeanour was startling. He didn't feel like the large and imposing figure everyone feared. Instead, he seemed more like an old friend. Or family, Ryohei realised with surprise. He hesitated, trying to figure out how the original Ryohei would have responded, before awkwardly lowering himself onto the couch, stiff as ever. His mind was racing, wondering what kind of relationship they had before.

Jin's gaze lingered, his expression softening into something more sombre. The silence stretched a moment longer before Jin spoke again, his voice tinged with regret.

"I'm sorry, Ryohei."

Ryohei's head snapped up in confusion, his mouth opening before he could stop himself. "Huh? What do you mean, Director?"

Jin's eyes were filled with sympathy, his brow creased as if he'd been carrying the weight of this guilt for a while. "I told them to treat you with respect when you returned. I thought they'd listen, but the moment I take my eyes off them, nothing changes. They're relentless."

His tone darkened as his jaw clenched in frustration. "I guess those two months' workload weren't enough for them."

Ryohei froze, the sudden wave of emotion hitting him unexpectedly. He barely remembered who Jin was, but something told him this man had fought for the original Ryohei in ways few others had. A soft, almost grateful smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Thank you, Director," Ryohei said, his voice steadier than he expected. I might not remember everything, he thought, but the original Ryohei must've been thankful for this too.

Jin stared at him for a moment, his expression shifting from surprise to something warmer. "You've changed," he said, more to himself than to Ryohei. "In the past, you would've just apologised, maybe said it wasn't a big deal... but now?"

He stood up abruptly, a wide smile spreading across his face. "I'm so glad I gave you that break. You've grown, Ryohei. You've really grown."

Ryohei chuckled softly, eyes looking away. "Yeah, I guess so." He paused, not intending to drag the comment any further, before a slight smirk stretched out on his face, "I was pretty pathetic before, huh?"

Jin let out a relieved laugh, settling back into his chair. "You sure were," he replied, though his voice quickly grew serious again. "Still, I'm sorry I couldn't fix them. I wanted you to come back to a better workplace, but..." He trailed off, guilt clouding his face once more.

The sincerity in Jin's voice was undeniable. Ryohei could sense just how much the director cared, but he was also aware of the limits of Jin's authority. After all, the real issue wasn't Jin — humans are simply hard to change.

Ryohei shook his head lightly. "Don't be sorry, Director. Their behaviour isn't your fault. You've done more than enough." 

Jin watched Ryohei closely. There was something different in the way he carried himself. Before, Ryohei might have trembled, whether from fear or anger. But now, there was an odd calmness about him. For a fleeting moment, Jin wondered if he was speaking to someone else entirely.

He quickly shook off the thought and refocused on the man in front of him. Because of Ryohei's rank, Jin couldn't help but worry. In a world where the strong rule the weak, anyone with a low rank had little power in society — and, unfortunately, that seemed to be the position Ryohei was currently in.

Yet Ryohei, standing there in front of Jin, seemed almost... bored. The harassment, the power dynamics — none of it seemed to faze him. He had other thoughts on his mind. His recent grasp of Meditation and Crystallise was still fresh, and the idea of letting his emotions get the best of him didn't sit well with him. He knew all too well how emotions could strongly influence a person's energy.

These people, Ryohei thought to himself, they thrive on attention. Give them any, and they'll continue. Starve them, and they crave it all the more.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. He sank back into the couch, settling into silence for a moment before standing up again. "I should head back, Director," he said, breaking the silence. "Lots to catch up on. After all, I was gone for two months."

Jin's face was still etched with concern, but Ryohei reassured him. They chatted for a few more minutes before Ryohei finally left the office, heading back to his desk.

The day had barely begun, but it already felt like a whirlwind. He couldn't help but be amused. Sure, he hadn't expected a friendly and easy-going environment, but he never expected such a depressing atmosphere either. What surprised him more was Jin's obvious soft spot for him. Why? What did the director see in Ryohei?

What was their relationship, really?

With Jin's support lingering in his mind, Ryohei felt a spark of defiance. What if he turned the tables on his colleagues? What if he gave them a taste of their own medicine?

He shook his head, letting go of the absurd idea. Ryohei hated attention — loathed it, even. And yet, the whole situation seemed too interesting to ignore. 

Not yet, he thought, chuckling to himself. It has barely been three days since I came into this world. Act too soon, and you'll only prove why you're in E rank.

The thought of being a laughing stock sent a chill through him. But the idea of proving them all wrong felt strangely satisfying.

His thoughts were interrupted as soon as he stepped into the elevator, watching the doors begin to close. Suddenly, they were stopped by a pair of hands, causing Ryohei to flinch. He glanced up, expecting nothing of it — until he saw who the hands belonged to.

He raised his brow at the face before him — a face filled with worry and exasperation. A small smile crept onto his lips as his mind recognised the man in front of him, feeling an undeniable sense of familiarity.

"Lev?"