The deal was closed. It was the merger of the decade, a corporate behemoth swallowing a rival that had fought tooth and nail for three years. It had taken forty-eight hours of non-stop talking, maneuvering, and psychological warfare in a smoke-filled Tokyo boardroom.

  Kaito Tanaka, the man they called "The Velvet Guillotine," adjusted his silk tie as he stepped out into the cool night air. He was thirty-five, at the peak of his career, and absolutely exhausted. He didn't negotiate with shouting; he negotiated with silence, with implication, and with a terrifying ability to find the one thing the other side couldn't afford to lose.

  "Another win, Tanaka-san," his junior associate beamed, holding open the back door of the company sedan.

  "It wasn't a win, Kenji. It was an inevitability," Kaito murmured, sliding into the leather seat. He closed his eyes. "Take me home."

  He was looking forward to his empty, expensive apartment, a glass of aged whiskey, and silence. He had enough money to retire ten times over. Maybe, he thought, this would be the last one. Maybe he would finally stop aiming for more and just... exist.

  The intersection came out of nowhere.

  The truck driver had fallen asleep. Kaito didn't even hear the screech of tires. He just felt the world tilt violently on its axis, followed by an inescapable crunch of metal and shattering glass. There was no pain, only a sudden, profound realization that he hadn't negotiated an exit strategy for this.

  Darkness.

  Then, not darkness.

  He wasn't in a hospital. He wasn't in the void. He was standing on a floor made of swirling galaxies, staring up at entities so vast his human mind couldn't perceive their true forms. They were concepts given shape—blinding pillars of light that sang harmonies of pure order, and swirling voids of shadow that whispered promises of chaotic freedom.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Gods and Demons. And they were arguing.

  “The soul is balanced against the Weight of Law! He belongs to the Celestial Harmony!” a voice boomed, sounding like a thousand trumpets.

  “Lies! His success was built on extortion and cold greed! He spent his life crushing the weak with silver-tongued threats! His soul reeks of the Abyss!”

  Kaito, even as a speck of consciousness before eternity, felt his negotiator instincts kick in. They were in a deadlock. Neither side was willing to yield this specific soul to the other.

  “A stalemate,” the light voice observed with disdain. “Unacceptable.”

  “Then we compromise,” the dark voice sneered. “If neither can claim him solely, both shall claim him wholly.”

  The immense pressure shifted onto Kaito. He felt like a bug under a microscope.

  “Agreed. Let this soul be the vessel. The proving ground. We shall pour the Primordial Fourteen into him. Let us see if he ascends as the ultimate virtue, or descends as the ultimate sin.”

  Before Kaito could object, before he could ask for a lawyer or propose a counteroffer, two tsunamis of energy crashed into his being. Seven blinding white lights ripped into his right side; seven freezing black shadows tore into his left. It was an agony beyond physical sensation; it was his very essence being overwritten.

  Just before his consciousness shattered completely, a cold, mechanical sound echoed in his mind, distinct from the roaring deities.

  [System Initialization... Success.]

  [Host Soul: Tanaka Kaito, Third Son of House Ren. Status: Reincarnating.]

  [Detected Foreign Energies: 7 Seraphic Authorities, 7 Abyssal Authorities.]

  [Critical Energy Overload imminent. Emergency Seals activated.]

  [Welcome to the world of Aethelgard, Host. Try not to break it.]

  [Good luck, Director.]