I was still sitting in the room.
Not doing anything special.
Just… sitting.
Staring at the wall like it had answers.
My stomach growled so loud it echoed.
MC: "Alright, alright, I get it. You want food. No need to sound like a dying whale."
I got up and shuffled toward the door. Hand on the knob. Deep breath.
And—click.
The door creaked open like I was entering a haunted mansion, but instead of ghosts, it was just… normal.
No voices.
No footsteps.
No one yelling "Breakfast is ready!" like back home when Mom used to cook before she discovered yoga and gluten-free cereal.
The hallway was small, narrow, and looked like it belonged to a lonely dude who didn't believe in interior decorating. I peeked around like I expected someone to jump-scare me. Still nobody.
I crept forward.
A bathroom.
A laundry basket in the hallway.
Tiny living room.
One-person-sized dining table.
MC: "This house is only big enough for one person… so that must mean I live alone."
That was a weirdly depressing realization.
But hey, no one to judge me if I started crying or eating over the sink.
I made my way to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge.
It hissed open like it was disappointed in me.
Inside?
A sad bottle of milk.
Two eggs that looked suspicious.
A Tupperware box I didn't trust.
A pack of ham.
And some bread.
MC: "Okay… time to chef it up, Gordon Ramsay style."
I grabbed the ham and bread and slapped together the most basic ham sandwich of all time. It looked like something a toddler would make for a tea party.
Still. Food was food.
I took one bite and started walking toward the trash can for some reason—maybe instinct. Maybe I forgot how to eat and walk at the same time. But then—
Slip.
MC: "Ah—!"
I flailed. The world spun. The sandwich flew. I shut my eyes and braced for impact.
And then… nothing.
I hit the floor.
But it didn't hurt.
At all.
MC: "...What the—"
I sat up and rubbed my head.
MC: "Okay. Weird. Why didn't that hurt?"
Curious, I pinched my cheek to see if I was dreaming.
And pulled.
And pulled.
And pulled.
MC: "...Uhhh, why is my face stretching?"
My eyes widened.
I let go—snap! My cheek smacked back into my face like a rubber band.
MC: "OW! Okay, okay, I can feel pain. So… not invincible."
But stretchy?
I quickly scrambled to my feet and stared at my hand.
Then, with zero hesitation, I sprinted toward the table.
I stretched out my arm—and it extended like a cartoon noodle across the room. I grabbed the edge of the table, and it yanked back with a fwip.
MC: "...I... I..."
My hands trembled.
My mouth hung open.
MC: "I HAVE LUFFY'S POWERS?! HELLS YEAH!!!"
I literally jumped. Literally. I leaped into the air and hit my head on the ceiling.
I didn't care.
I was giddy.
I was grinning like a madman.
MC: "I'M RUBBER, BABY! Let's GOOOO!"
I laughed so hard I nearly forgot my stomach was still trying to start a rebellion.
It growled again.
MC: "...Okay. Joy later. Food first."
I retrieved my sandwich from where it had crash-landed under the table, dusted it off (the 5-second rule is real, I don't care what science says), and sat down to eat.
Chew.
Chew.
...
MC: "Huh. Not bad. Ham's kind of mid, though."
After scarfing it down like a starving pirate, I stood up and stared at my hands again.
I tugged on my cheeks just to double-check.
Yup. Still rubbery.
Still insane.
But here's the kicker—I wasn't in One Piece. This wasn't some pirate ship or floating island with flying fish and guys screaming "Gomu Gomu no Bazooka!" every five minutes.
No.
The house looked… modern.
And when I walked back toward the bedroom to check again, I spotted the school uniform hanging on the wall.
It wasn't anything fancy—just a black blazer, white undershirt, red trim…
But something about it felt familiar.
MC: "Where have I seen this before...?"
I closed my eyes and tried to think.
Red trim…
Black jacket…
That exact collar…
The tie…
The crest...
Suddenly, a cold chill ran down my spine.
MC: "Wait a damn minute..."
I dashed toward the window, yanked open the curtains, and looked outside.
And what did I see?
Two girls.
Just two random girls chatting and walking to what looked like school.
But that uniform—
MC: "Hold up."
I turned slowly to the outfit hanging neatly on the back of a chair.
Same design.
Same crest.
My brain paused like someone hit the buffering wheel.
MC: "...Wait a minute..."
I grabbed the blazer and stared at it.
Then looked outside again.
Uniforms.
Girls.
Modern town.
Suddenly, it all clicked.
MC: "...Is this… High School DxD?!"
I stared at the blazer like it just insulted my entire bloodline.
Then I burst out laughing.
MC: "YO—NO WAY! Did the universe actually take me seriously when I said I wanted to live in an anime world?!"
I flopped backward onto the bed, dying of laughter.
MC: "I said I wanted to be like Luffy or Goku—not Issei, the King of Pervs!"
I sat up and pointed at nothing.
MC: "Issei, bro, I say this with love… but you are down bad every episode. I mean… take a break. Touch grass. Or clouds. Something!"
I stood and flexed my arm again.
MC: "But hey… I got rubber powers. And I ain't gonna waste them chasing fanservice."
I grinned.
This wasn't a dream.
This wasn't some cursed isekai where I had to defeat a demon lord with the power of friendship and anxiety.
This was real.
Stretchy arms.
Anime world.
DxD uniforms.
MC: "Alright. Rule one: Don't mess with the plot. Let the real MC do his thing."
I stretched my arms across the room again.
MC: "Rule two: Try not to explode from hype."
And finally, I looked down at the blazer and smirked.
MC: "Rule three: Time to have some fun, baby."
A/C:" What you thick, cool right I gave him luffys powers so let see where this goes."