---
Darkness smells like blood.
That was the last thought Kuro Lancaster had before his world went cold.
His body, riddled with bullets, fell from the rooftop of a Tokyo skyscraper like a puppet whose strings had been slashed. The mission was meant to be clean—one shot, one kill. Instead, he'd walked into a trap, betrayed by the very organization that had raised him.
But Kuro wasn't afraid. Death didn't scare someone who had already buried his soul.
"Mission failed, huh…" he whispered as his vision blurred.
And then, silence.
Or rather, it should have been.
---
Ding.
System initializing...
Target soul detected: Kuro Lancaster.
Confirming skillset: Genius. Assassin. Elite Operative. Noble Etiquette. Infiltration Mastery.
Loading world data… Error: Overload.
Host forcibly inserted into backup world: [Shoujo-Romance-DailyLife-Anime-verse v.04]
Welcome, Host. New mission: Survive and adapt.
Good luck, Mr. Lancaster.
---
When Kuro opened his eyes, the ceiling above him wasn't sterile white or industrial gray. It was pastel pink.
He blinked.
The soft scent of sakura drifted through an open window. Sunlight warmed his skin. Birdsong filled the room. He turned his head slowly. Floral curtains. Plush carpet. A tidy uniform laid across a desk chair.
This wasn't a hospital.
And this definitely wasn't Hell.
Or maybe it was.
Because outside, he heard something far worse than screams or sirens.
"Kyaaah! Did you see Hikaru-sama's smile today?!"
"Omigod, I'm gonna die! He looked at me during homeroom!"
"No way! He waved at you?!"
Teenage girls. Squealing. About a boy.
Kuro sat up slowly, brushing his long, jet-black hair behind his ear. He glanced down at himself—flawless porcelain skin, lean but toned frame, and eyes as deep and cold as a glacier.
Even in this strange, unfamiliar world... he was still beautiful.
He stood and moved to the mirror. The reflection greeted him with a face that looked unchanged from his past life—sharp jawline, aristocratic features, and a presence that commanded silence.
But his surroundings had shifted.
He spotted the uniform on the chair. Navy-blue blazer. Gold-accented tie. A small crest on the chest pocket: Imperial Academy of Aetheria.
"...High school?" Kuro murmured, his voice low, rich, and impossibly calm.
---
Three Hours Later
Imperial Academy Main Courtyard
Kuro walked silently through the main gates, his posture regal, his stride calculated. Students turned to look. Some stopped mid-sentence. Others froze mid-step. Girls gasped softly behind cupped hands. Boys narrowed their eyes with a mix of admiration and envy.
"Who… who is that?"
"He's not from any class I know."
"Transfer student?"
"He looks… noble."
He didn't look at them. He didn't need to. The wind toyed with his blazer like it knew he wasn't like the rest of them.
The System pinged softly in his mind.
[Mission: Establish Cover Identity Completed.]
[Mission: Attract Attention of Key Figures – 30% Progress]
Key figures?
He didn't have to wait long to find out.
---
"You're in my spot."
The voice was warm, smooth—like velvet on glass—but laced with quiet authority.
Kuro looked up. A boy stood beneath the cherry blossoms, hands in pockets. His hair was golden, slightly tousled. His eyes were cerulean blue, kind but piercing. His uniform was pristine. Every thread screamed privileged.
This must be one of them.
The Hero.
Hikaru Tsukishima.
Captain of the fencing team. Student council vice-president. Only son of a global real estate mogul. Loved by students. Protected by staff.
He was the crown prince of the academy.
Kuro regarded him with indifference. "There's no plaque with your name," he said simply, his voice calm, cool, and devastatingly elegant.
Hikaru raised an eyebrow—caught off guard.
"You're... different," he said finally. "What's your name?"
"Kuro Lancaster."
That was all he offered.
Hikaru studied him, then gave a soft chuckle. "British-Japanese? Huh. I like that." He extended a hand. "I'm Hikaru."
Kuro stared at the hand for a moment, then took it—with the kind of precision that came from being trained to shake hands with kings, presidents, and arms dealers.
Their grip met like a silent duel.
---
Lunch Break – Imperial Gardens
The second "Key Figure" entered with the kind of grace that made everything around her pause.
She wore the female uniform like it was haute couture. Long, silky chestnut hair flowed behind her like a cape. Her face was delicate—anime-perfect, with a small rosebud mouth and golden-brown eyes.
She didn't walk—she glided.
Amaya Hoshizora.
Heiress to the Hoshizora Conglomerate. Top of her class. Ice queen of Imperial Academy. Never seen without her silver locket. Rumored to be engaged to Hikaru.
She stopped in front of Kuro.
"You're sitting where I read during lunch," she said, her tone poised, but cold.
"I don't see a sign," Kuro replied.
Silence stretched between them.
Hikaru looked amused. Students whispered frantically.
No one had ever talked to Amaya that way.
She studied Kuro with interest—more than annoyance.
"British nobility?" she asked.
"My parents are dead."
A pause. Then a nod.
"Your etiquette is flawless. Were you raised in Europe?"
Kuro inclined his head slightly, but offered no more.
Amaya smirked—barely. "I'll allow you to sit. For now."
---
System Notification
[Main Targets Discovered: Hikaru Tsukishima & Amaya Hoshizora]
[Relationship Web Forming… Warning: Emotional entanglement detected.]
[New Side Mission: Uncover why elite students are being targeted by unknown forces.]
Kuro narrowed his eyes.
So even in this pastel-drenched world, shadows were moving.
---
Later That Night – Kuro's Penthouse
Yes—penthouse.
His System had automatically generated a legal identity, forged documents, and transferred unknown currency into his account. Kuro's new apartment was on the top floor of the city's most luxurious residential tower.
The marble floors, panoramic skyline, and temperature-controlled wine cellar didn't impress him. But the System's AI interface caught his attention.
A holographic orb flickered to life.
"Good evening, Host."
"What is this world?" Kuro asked, seated in silence, sipping imported tea with precise grace.
"An artificial blend of various romantic-anime worlds. Designed as a simulation for peace."
"Then why is there a mission to protect people?"
The AI hesitated. "...Because something from your original world leaked into this one."
Kuro looked out the window. The city sparkled like a dream—too perfect, too untouched.
He smiled for the first time.
So this wasn't Heaven.
It was a new battlefield.
And he was still a killer.
---
To Be Continued...