Chapter 1

I am an uncle. My name is Haruka Yamagishi.

I am not an uncle in the sense of being a blood relative to my nieces and nephews; I am simply an uncle in the general sense. I am in my mid-forties, holding a middle management position, and I am a somewhat otaku-ish, worn-out uncle.

I have led a life on the ordinary track, and while busy with work, I have not had much time for romance, and of course, I have not been able to get married at this age.

I am not respected by the young people of the world, and I am scolded by the higher-ups at my company for lacking energy, but I continue to turn the gears of society bravely, as a withered uncle.

There is a reason why I keep asserting that I am an uncle. Normally, there would be no need to list such sad facts, but I have a compelling reason.

Looking down, I see the prominent rise of a full chest that catches my eye. I repeatedly tell myself that I am an uncle, trying to make it sink into my mind. I don't understand what is happening to me. I need to calm down and sort out the situation.

This morning, I was supposed to wake up in my small rented home, rubbing my sleepy eyes, and slowly getting up while dealing with a sore body. However, the pain I expected did not come, and I was able to get up smoothly. It felt like the sensation I had when I woke up after a good night's sleep in my teens. But that was a distant memory, and I thought I would never experience it with this worn-out body.

Without much time to think, I was suddenly hit by a strong sense of physical discomfort. Just a slight movement made it clear that my balance was different from usual. My stomach, which should have been slightly protruding due to lack of exercise, felt light, and my chest felt unusually heavy.

I slowly stood up and cautiously looked down. My feet were not visible, and all I could see were the prominently swollen breasts. I knew the name for this part of a woman's body, but I hesitated to say it aloud, and just looked up at the sky.

Looking around, I realized I was not in my small but comfortable home.

The bird's chirping I had been hearing was not the usual "chun," "ka," or "popo." My ears were not broken, but I thought it might have been better if they were.

I took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air of the forest to calm my mind. The rustling of the bushes and the scent of unfamiliar flowers further stimulated my weak heart. Despite the deep breaths, I could not calm down.

Listening to the thumping of my heart, I remembered something else I needed to check.

I lowered my head again and pulled the front of my droopy pants. I knew without having to confirm it. What should have been there was not.

... This is an emergency. I might need to search for it urgently.

After confirming the situation several times and repeatedly telling myself that I am an uncle, I finally set out into the forest. I couldn't stay in the forest forever. My tendency to take a long time to make decisions is a bad habit I've had for a long time.

After pushing through the underbrush for a while, the view suddenly opened up to reveal a peaceful lakeside.

My reflection should be in the water. I ran over to confirm it and swallowed hard.

Indeed, I am an absolute beauty.

My eyes are a bit sharp, but the features are well-balanced and can be described as finely chiseled. My beautiful silver hair extends down to my waist, and I gently touched and stroked it in the sunlight.

Since this is part of my own body, it is not considered harassment, but I still feel like I am doing something wrong.

The smooth, silky texture that slipped through my fingers was unlike my own cautious handling of my hair, and it felt wonderful.

After a moment of being moved, I returned to observing my appearance.

I am probably in my early twenties. It's hard to tell a woman's age, but it seems that the growth period is over. My skin is very smooth, with no wrinkles, so I am certainly not in my forties.

There is one more notable point: my ears are pointed.

The pointed ears of this race, familiar to us indoor types who are accustomed to creative culture, are affectionately and admiringly called elves. I am an elf. With healthy brown skin, I must be a dark elf. The combination of my shimmering silver hair makes my appearance even more mystical.

I could feel my mood lifting as I saw the fantasy elf I had always admired. The only thing that was a bit disappointing was that I was inside this body.

After a few minutes of excitement while looking into the water, several questions and concerns slowly began to surface.

Why am I in an unknown place? Why am I in this body? What happened to my original body? Who did this? Can I communicate? Is there anyone here?

There is no one to answer these questions.

A beast's cry echoes from a distance.

I feel lonely.

How did I end up like this?

Thinking I might find some new information, I wandered around and found a log that had been shaped like a chair and the remains of a campfire. Observing carefully, I noticed signs of human activity all around.

It seems this is not a completely unexplored place. This is a bit of good news.

If I can survive here, someone will eventually come. All I can do is hope that the person who comes will be kind to a middle-aged man from another world. I hope the first person I meet is someone with a calm and composed mind.

I sat down on a log that someone had prepared and poked at the remains of the campfire with a stick I had picked up. If there were any leftovers, I wanted to use them as a reference to secure my own food.

Unfortunately, my actions only resulted in spreading more ash. I should have learned survival skills. This is what they call "too late."

I need something to eat. If I am going to wait here for someone to come, I need a place to shelter from the rain and wind, and most importantly, food. Fortunately, the weather is warm, and it doesn't seem like it will get cold when the sun sets.

Still, it is incredibly unsettling to have to make judgments based on assumptions. Even with a middle-aged mind, I feel like I might cry.

I held back the tears that were about to fall by looking up.

I will walk with my head up, so the tears don't overflow. Thinking of a famous song made me miss Japan even more.

With my current appearance, tears could be a weapon, but I will hold back from breaking down in tears out of pride as an uncle. I must not lose my dignity. My heart is that of an uncle.

Right, let's think of something fun. Since there are elves, this must be a fantasy world. When it comes to fantasy, there are swords, magic, and adventures.

Magic, the dream of all fantasy lovers. If asked what I wanted to be when I was young, I would have said a magician or a superhero.

How about fire magic? It's a classic and a very convenient magic that is useful throughout the story. I should try it. Since no one is around, I can be a bit more playful. Actually, having a fire would be very useful to keep wild animals away, to safely drink water, and to cook food. Humans evolved by handling fire and tools. So, it's definitely worth trying to use fire magic. It's not just a middle school fantasy; it's a necessary experiment.

While making excuses to myself, I stretched out my arm and pointed the stick, which I had been using to stir the ashes, towards the lake.

This stick, which I picked up when I arrived, seems to be a good one that could serve as a staff or a fire-stirring tool. It doesn't seem to break even when I swing it, so I plan to rely on it if a wild animal appears.

"Okay, then."

I said a word to adjust my throat and lowered my arm. I put my hand to my mouth to think. I noticed a difference in my voice. Since my body is now that of a woman, my vocal cords have also changed. However, it was a pleasant surprise to have a slightly lower, beautiful voice that I like.

It seems I hadn't spoken a word since I woke up. With such a nice voice, I should have talked to myself a bit more. It might have distracted me a bit.

I lifted my favorite stick horizontally towards the lake. After some thought, I lowered the angle so that the tip of the stick pointed towards the lake. It wouldn't be good to point it towards the forest, even though green wood is hard to burn. Pointing it towards the water felt safer.

I imagined a large fire.

A huge campfire I had seen on TV.

I closed my eyes and clarified my image. A fire that rises high, spreads wide, and burns with a force that scorches the sky. The word is simple.

"... Burn."

Immediately, a sound that was hard to describe, whether a sizzle or a pop, and an enormous amount of steam rose. A fire that scorched the sky, as I had imagined, rose from the lake. The beautiful lake began to boil, and fish floated to the surface one after another. The scene was like a pot in hell.

I did it, I caught some fish. Dinner for tonight.

A voice in my head that was escaping reality echoed. But that wasn't the issue. All I could do was pray for the fire to go out quickly as it continued to reduce the lake's water.

The fire floating on the lake gradually became smaller and eventually disappeared silently, as if it had never been there. However, the steam that spread around and the boiled, pitiful fish strongly asserted that the fire had indeed existed.

Magic. Fantasy. Wonderful. But it was a power that was too much for me to handle.

What energy did that fire use? I hope it wasn't something like my lifespan.

I rubbed my hands, but I didn't feel anything missing from my body. This made me even more curious about what it had consumed.

The steam slowly rose into the sky and gradually dispersed.

I should sit down and think.

As I turned to do so, I saw a man. The man, with his mouth agape, was holding a drawn sword in his hand.

Thank you for reading.

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