You didn't choose to die — and the world that caught you afterward didn't ask permission.

Here, strength is measured in magicules: how many your new body can hold, and what you're willing to do to hold more. Everyone has a weak point — the only question is whether you reach it first. And there's a Voice: dry, precise, always slightly better informed than you'd like. It doesn't roll dice. It calculates.

Choose a vessel — human, elf, slime, goblin, lizardman, or something else entirely — and step into the Great Forest of Jura. Somewhere in its depths, so the rumors go, stands a city of monsters ruled by a legendary Demon Lord. That's not your story. Yours starts here, with one body and one chance.