Awakening of the Nano Machine

After Kokushibo's departure, I was left in a state of surreal bewilderment. At first, I entertained the notion that this was all a dream—a bizarre reverie that would soon dissolve into the recesses of my mind. But then, like a cascade of memories from another lifetime, the knowledge of the body I now inhabited surged forth, sweeping away any lingering doubts.

"Why do I have a System?" I muttered aloud, my voice tinged with astonishment and perplexity. Almost as soon as the words left my lips, a shimmering status screen materialized before my eyes.

[*Ding*

Nano Machine System booting up.

Current World: Demon Slayer

Host: Manjiro Sano

Race: Human

Host Level: None

Host Status: Healthy

Age - 4(38)

Host Potential: Immeasurable

Current Goal: None

Overall Goal: None]

The information inundated me, and I struggled to regain my composure. The Nano Machine, as it was known, bestowed upon its host a remarkable ability—a passive Self Healing ability that could mend injuries and wounds, the swiftness of recovery contingent upon the severity of the damage.

I found myself contemplating its capabilities, drawing a connection to a manhwa/novel I had once read, "Nano Machine." It was as if this Nano Machine had similar functions, or perhaps even surpassed those of Cheon Yeo Woon, who had been injected with a 7th Generation Nano Machine in that story—a descendant from a distant future.

The enigma deepened further as I realized that the previous host of this body had been equally oblivious to the presence of the Nano Machine. The questions loomed larger, refusing to be silenced.

With a resigned sigh, I settled cross-legged on the bed, as though it were the most natural course of action in this inexplicable world. As I did so, memories of my former life, the life of a king, flooded back with vivid clarity.

In my past life, I had commanded armies with a mere gesture, quelling disputes and rivalries with the edge of my sword. My prowess in swordsmanship had been unparalleled, an essential attribute for anyone seeking to ascend the throne in my world. Kings were not born; they were forged.

But now, there was no point in dwelling on what was lost. "There's no need to mourn my past," I spoke aloud to the empty room, determination sparking in my eyes.

With purposeful intent, I accessed my newfound System's status screen.

**'Status.'**

The holographic screen materialized once more, presenting me with my current state.

『Status』

[Host: Manjiro Sano]

[Race: Human]

[Host Level: None]

[Age: 4(38)]

[Class: Swordsman]

[Skills & Technique]

- None

[Ability:

- Unparalleled Swordsmanship

(Possess maximum and limitless mastery in wielding swords.)

]

[Inventory: None]

[Current Goal: None]

[Overall Goal: None]

The realization hit me like a wave crashing upon the shore—I was indeed four years old, my age incongruously diverging from the memories of the previous host, whose parents' tragic demise was shrouded in mystery.

It had been three months since my fateful meeting with Kokushibo, who had sporadically visited, bringing me to this house where I now resided. I was devoid of family in this unfamiliar world, and Kokushibo, in his enigmatic manner, acted as a guardian of sorts. His motivations remained shrouded, but I couldn't dismiss the possibility of guilt or compassion.

In my past life and now, our names remained the same—a shared identity that eased the transition, sparing me the need to feign the innocence of a four-year-old in this treacherous world of Demon Slayers. Kokushibo's twin brother, Yoriichi, had been a seven-year-old prodigy, defeating a seasoned sword instructor with astonishing ease. I had to acknowledge that survival in this realm necessitated strength, the kind that would protect me and perhaps exact vengeance for the parents whose memories I now held.

With resolute determination, I embarked on a path that would lead me to the pinnacle of power, as I forged my destiny anew in the world of Demon Slayers.