“Hmmm…”
I twisted and turned the mirror I had on hand, dexterously manipulating it in order to check myself out. I slowly examined every last nook and cranny, with my expression remaining serious throughout the process.
For the most part, I looked no different from usual. My hair was black, and my facial features were all exactly as I rembered them. To be honest, I was just another guy. I wasn’t especially handso nor particularly ugly. My eyes carried a bit of a sharp glint, but they were honestly the only part of my face that didn’t scream average. My height and build both fell within the norm as well.
The reason I was scrutinizing myself wasn’t because I was so sort of narcissist. I wasn’t particularly interested in taking in the appeal of my own body. I was rely checking myself over because it was absolutely necessary.
I gave the mirror yet another twist and started to gaze at my back: the most abnormal part of . For so odd reason, I’d grown wings. The pitch black protrusions sprouted out of the area around my shoulder blade. They looked like the kind of thing you’d expect to see on a dragon, or maybe even a bat. I couldn’t tell which.
Having wings was weird. I’d never had them before, so they almost didn’t feel like a part of my body despite clearly being attached to . It was a bit difficult for to control them due to my unfamiliarity with them, but focusing on them allowed to flap them, thereby confirming that they weren’t just so sort of decoration.
The second and only other weird part of my body was my right eye. My eyes were both originally black. Keyword: were. My right iris, however, had gone through so sort of change. It had sohow dyed itself a brilliant shade of crimson.
It seed that the change in colour was linked to one of the skills innate to my race. Specifically, it was one of the so called “magic eyes,” the cringy things Japanese kids in middle school loved going on and on about. I myself had gone through a similar phase in the past, so seeing the piercing red eyeball had caused a series of embarrassing mories to resurface. I imdiately started feeling ashad of myself.
Though my body had changed, my clothes hadn’t. I was still wearing jeans and a t-shirt. The overly casual apparel starkly contrasted my less than normal body parts. My appearance was all over the place; I felt like a sh*tty, low budget cosplayer.
Wait a second. I’m wearing a t-shirt over my wings? Oh god damn it, it’s probably torn, isn’t it?
I couldn’t quite get the angle I needed to see the supposedly torn part of my shirt, but I remained absolutely certain that it’d suffered damage nonetheless.
“You know what? Screw this. I’m going to bed.”
The act of examining my body had caused far more ntal fatigue than I was comfortable with, so I decided to just stop thinking about it. I used a bunch of dungeon points, or DP for short, and purchased a futon, a japanese style bed.
I appeared to be in so sort of throne room, but I decided to just flat out ignore it for the ti being. I laid the futon out on the floor, tucked myself in, and closed my eyes.
***
General Information
Na: Yuki
Race: Archdemon
Class: Demon Lord
Level: 1
HP: 2100/2100
MP: 6700/6700
Strength: 651
Stamina: 685
Agility: 550
Magic: 897
Dexterity: 1250
Luck: 70
Skill Points: 5
Unique Skills
Magic Eye
Translation
Skills
Item Box
Analyze Lv. 1
Titles
Demon Lord from Another World
DP: 900
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