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Amid the quiet of early morning, an earsplitting explosion shattered the stillness.
"Damn it! Who the hell is setting off fireworks at this hour? "
Sound asleep only moments before, Mark was suddenly awakened by the deafening noise and, in a fit of frustration, bellowed out a string of curses as he opened his eyes.
As a "996" office worker, a term referring to the grueling 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. work schedule six days a week, Mark rarely had the luxury of sleeping in. So, when the rare opportunity for rest was interrupted by such cacophony, the resulting indignation was considerable.
After venting his annoyance in a flurry of expletives, he suddenly froze.
"Where... am I?"
He scanned the room in bewilderment.
The interior, decorated in a lavish European vintage style, clearly did not match his memory of the shabby, low-rent apartment where he had fallen asleep.
He rubbed his eyes, suspecting he might be hallucinating, then reached for the covers to climb out of bed and investigate. But as he looked down at his hands and body, what he saw prompted a shocked scream.
"What happened to my body?!"
To his astonishment, he found that his body had shrunk dramatically. He appeared to be a child.
Scrambling off the bed, he rushed over to a standing mirror in the corner. In its reflection, he saw the face of a boy no older than eleven or twelve. It was his own face, just as it had been at that age. This, he could confirm with certainty.
"Have I... have I somehow been reincarnated into my younger self?"
Yet something still felt off.
He stared around again. "But I've never lived in a house like this before, not even as a kid!"
Delving into his memories, he recalled that at that age, he had lived in a boarding school dormitory, not a grand European-style mansion.
BOOM!
Just as confusion consumed him, another loud explosion echoed outside.
"Fireworks again? Who even buys fireworks this loud?"
Putting aside his questions for the moment, Mark went over to the window, hoping to gather some information about his surroundings. He drew back the curtain with a sharp tug, and what he saw made his pupils contract in horror. His stomach turned violently, and he nearly vomited.
What lay outside was not a festive street, but a war zone: shattered buildings, blood-stained earth, motionless corpses strewn across the ground. Military aircraft circled in the sky, while the earth trembled from constant artillery fire.
Clearly, what he had assumed were fireworks were, in fact, explosions from real bombs and missiles. A brutal war was underway.
Danger. Extreme danger.
Run. He had to run.
That was Mark's immediate reaction, but before he could move, he forced himself to stop and think.
Where could he go?
In such a deadly situation, would fleeing this house truly offer safety?
He might easily be gunned down in the streets. Conversely, staying in this house was no guarantee either. What if it were struck by a missile?
"Maybe... maybe I should find a bomb shelter," he muttered, clenching his fists. "But where even am I?"
He had no answer, and more importantly, no idea how to proceed.
He was, after all, just an ordinary man. Now, transformed into a child, surviving in an unknown city caught in the grip of war seemed like a hopeless dream.
Click!
At that moment, a virtual panel abruptly appeared before his eyes, materializing seemingly from thin air. A line of text flashed across its surface:
"Main Character Template Random Selection System activated. You have one free draw. Would you like to proceed?"
Faced with this surreal development, Mark didn't hesitate. He tapped the "draw" button without a second thought.
Now was not the time to question how or why he had awakened in a war-torn city as a child or where this inexplicable virtual panel had come from.
He had to survive, nothing else mattered.
The moment he clicked confirm, the panel lit up like a nightclub disco ball, its lights spinning and flashing rapidly. Moments later, the interface stabilized, revealing a new line of text:
"Draw complete. You have obtained the Main Character Template: Son Goku, age 13, from the Dragon Ball universe. Would you like to load the template?"
"There's hope yet!" Mark exclaimed.
Seeing that his draw had yielded Goku from Dragon Ball, Mark felt a surge of energy and relief. Without hesitation, he clicked confirm once more.
If his memory served him correctly, 13-year-old Goku had already undergone training under Master Roshi, competed in the World Martial Arts Tournament, and possessed strength beyond the capabilities of conventional weapons.
"Loading Template: Son Goku, Age 13. Duration: 1 hour. Cooldown time: 24 hours.Upon activation, you will inherit the corresponding character's bloodline and physical attributes."
As that line appeared, Mark immediately sensed a transformation deep within him. His body, which had moments ago felt like that of a feeble child, now felt powerful, like an ant reborn as an elephant.
A flood of memories then surged through his mind, Goku's life from birth to the age of thirteen, vivid and complete.
He turned again to the mirror. His physical appearance had not really changed. He was still the same eleven-year-old boy. But his closely-cropped hair had grown into the iconic spiky black hairstyle of Goku, and his pajamas had been replaced with the bright-orange martial arts uniform bearing the turtle insignia. A red staff now hung across his back.
"I've got one hour. First priority: find a safe place to hide."
Given the template's one-hour time limit, this was no time for heroics. He wasn't going to charge into battle to end the war. He needed to use this temporary power to get as far from danger as possible, ideally to safety, and perhaps live to use the template again after the cooldown. Having resolved his next move, Mark moved. Instantly.
With speed far beyond human limits, he burst out of the house.
"No one's here."
A quick scan confirmed that the mansion was empty. Without lingering, he sprinted onto the street.
Judging from the volume and direction of the explosions, he picked the path where the artillery sounded least intense and began to run, faster than any vehicle.
In an hour, with Goku's body, he reasoned, he could escape the city entirely. There was no need to waste time looking for a shelter.
But he hadn't gone far when something made him halt.
Up ahead, two burly soldiers wearing opposing uniforms were locked in a brutal hand-to-hand fight, their guns emptied.
Ordinarily, Mark would have avoided such a scene. In a place this dangerous, it would be suicide to involve oneself, let alone interfere. Even if he witnessed soldiers executing civilians, he would've passed by without intervening.
But now, something inside him stirred.
As he watched the two men brawling, his blood boiled. Before he realized it, his feet were already moving toward them.
"Are you two sparring? Count me in!"
Five seconds later, both soldiers lay unconscious at his feet. Mark stared at them, dumbfounded.
"Wait... is this like a body possesion? Not only did I inherit Goku's strength... I also seem to have picked up part of his personality...?"