Dragon's Gambit: Demon Unleashed Into the Multiverse!

The circumstances of my death and the life I led are irrelevant now—what matters is the Dragon standing before me.

"Hello there, human," the Dragon said, its voice resonating with the vast, suffocating emptiness around me. 

Though its form was faint, obscured by the void, I could unmistakably identify it as a Garchomp—straight out of the Pokemon games.

How I came to be here and why a Garchomp was speaking to me was absurd enough. 

Something about an old lady pulling off the most catastrophic U-turn maneuver I'd ever witnessed might have been involved. But does it really matter? Dead men don't tell tales, much less crack jokes.

I tried to cough and raise a fist to my mouth—wait, I didn't have a mouth. Or a fist. 

Ehem. I simulated the action with whatever I now had for a hand and addressed the Dragon.

"Excuse me, Dragon, sir. Could you enlighten me about what all this is supposed to mean? I know I'm dead, and you're probably some kind of deity, but why me?"

It wasn't like I expected an answer to change my situation. Whatever this Dragon wanted, it clearly had the power to make it happen. 

Still, I wanted to hear it from him—to make him waste a bit of breath on me.

The Dragon's gaze—or what I assumed was its gaze—pierced through me. Soul, eyes, whatever it was I had now. Then it spoke.

"Because you are a piece of shit."

"..."

That was... blunt.

"Excuse me?"

"A piece of shit," it repeated as if clarifying an earlier point.

"...Right. Okay. Care to elaborate?"

The Dragon tilted its head slightly, the motion exuding casual disdain. "Fine. I'll put it in terms even you can understand. My name is GhostGirlLover. It used to be GhostGirlFucker, but some bastard stole that name. I'm the god of your world—or was—and I'm bored."

Somehow, this conversation was getting worse.

"You," it continued, "happened to be the biggest piece of shit I could find in exactly three minutes who also met the requirements for a little experiment I want to conduct. Congratulations."

"An experiment?"

"Yes. It's simple. I will reincarnate you into a random world—a few, actually. Worlds we're both familiar with. Your job is to live, survive, seduce, fuck, fight, kill, save—whatever it takes to complete the tasks I assign you." 

"If you endure long enough, I'll let you keep your power and give you a happy ending. Fail? Some of these worlds have fates worse than death, so, uh... good luck."

I felt an uneasy knot forming in whatever passed for my gut now. "Do I even have a choice?"

The Dragon's maw twisted into what might have been a grin. "Nope. That's the fun part. But hey, I'm not a total bastard. A piece of trash like you? You'll probably enjoy this just as much as I did back when I reincarnated. Consider it my way of keeping the cosmic gears turning."

This whole situation was absurd. And pretentious. God, was this Dragon pretentious. Did all deities have to act so smug?

"See? I'm giving you the chance to literally fuck around and find out in multiple worlds, and the first thing you do is complain about me being pretentious."

Maybe he had a point. But that didn't make this any less ridiculous. Or terrifying.

"Okay then, care to explain which world I'll reincarnate into or what tasks I'm supposed to complete?" I asked, glaring at the smug Dragon before me.

The Dragon nodded exaggeratedly, raising its left claw to wave in the air. Suddenly, I felt something sticky and gooey wrap around my form—like being enveloped in gelatin. 

The suffocating darkness shifted, transforming into the cold metallic sheen of a military base's hallway.

"Your home world will be the Dragon Ball universe," the Dragon announced casually, striding down the hallway like it owned the place. "Why? Because it's funny. Also, there are some bad bitches here, so, you know, bonus points for entertainment value."

I stared at him, bewildered. "Dragon Ball? Are you serious?"

"Oh, dead serious," the Dragon replied, smirking. "Your current identity is that of a lowly Red Ribbon Army soldier." 

"It's not exactly premium material—you're basically cannon fodder. Your new name is Zaiko." With another flick of its claw, the Dragon continued, "But don't worry, I've got you covered."

Before I could even react, he placed his claw against my forehead. "I'm also giving you a system to track your progress. It's state-of-the-art, made in three minutes, so you know its quality." 

"Oh, and don't sweat it—I've stopped time for now. Nobody's going to stumble on us."

A bright blue panel materialized before my eyes the moment he finished speaking.

==Fucker System==

Name: Zaiko

Titles: [None]

Race: [Human] [Locked]

Bloodline: [None]

Transformation: [None]

Harem: [None] [Virgin] [Bozo] [L] [Imagine no bitches]

Potential: [Earthling] [L] [Imagine not being OP from day one]

Special: [None]

[Extras: Locked]

====

I stared in absolute disbelief. My mind was screaming, 'What the hell is this system?!'

The Dragon let out a loud, wheezing laugh. "Oh, I heard you loud and clear. Isn't it amazing? I spent a full three minutes designing this masterpiece just for you. You're welcome."

"Three minutes!? This is supposed to help me!?" I shouted, gesturing at the panel. "This thing is insulting me!"

"Well, yeah. It's supposed to. Keeps you humble. Besides, you'll grow into it—or die trying," the Dragon replied nonchalantly, clearly enjoying my frustration.

I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose—if I even had a nose. "And what am I even supposed to do with this... system? How do I survive in the Dragon Ball universe as a glorified henchman with zero perks?"

The Dragon shrugged. "Figure it out. That's part of the fun. You've got potential—well, some potential, a little bit, if you squeeze it. You can find bills between the sofa instead of coins." 

"And hey, you've got a head start. At least I didn't throw you into Namek during the Frieza Saga. You're welcome."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't mention it. Literally." The Dragon turned, a smug grin still plastered on its face. "Now, I've got better things to do than babysit. Good luck, Zaiko. You'll need it."

With that, the Dragon vanished, leaving me alone in my new nightmare's cold, empty hallway. The mocking blue screen hovered before me, its text glowing faintly as if to mock me further.

This was going to suck.

The ground shimmered as I struggled to process my situation, and a mirror materialized before me. 

Next to it lay a strange arrow and a folded note. Before I could inspect them, that same gooey sensation from earlier surged over my body again—this time far more intense, like molten lava was pouring through my veins. I collapsed to my knees.

Wait—my knees?

In that moment of agony, I realized something important. I had a body again!

The pain quickly went away as quickly as it came, leaving me gasping for air. My form felt solid now, familiar but different. 

My height seemed the same as in my previous life, but the rest? A mystery. That's probably what the mirror was for.

After catching my breath, I picked myself up and approached the mirror, arrow, and note. 

Common sense dictated I read the note first. Whatever nonsense the Dragon had cooked up might offer a clue—or another punchline.

The note read:

"Surprise!"

"Even I couldn't resist giving you a proper "Golden Finger" in the end. Sorry about the shitty system, but hey, mine sucked just as much when I started out. Don't rely too much on it—try to rely on your strength instead."

"About the arrow: It's a Stand Arrow from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. Think of a stand—A REGULAR STAND."

"Not Requiem, Over Heaven, Evolved, or any of those power-scaling nightmares like Boy II Man, The Green Baby, or Bohemian Rhapsody. If you try aiming for that nonsense, it'll backfire spectacularly and give you something worse than Super Fly—a knockoff of a knockoff."

"But hey, if you pick something reasonable, the arrow will hook you up with a Stand. Use it wisely."

"Anyway, I'm off to… you know, live my best life in another fic. Poke harem, wife, play Frostpunk—you get the vibe."

"Cyao~"

"- Your Friendly Dragon Overlord, GhostGirlLover"

My eye twitched. This guy was an actual menace.

Still, I couldn't deny the opportunity presented. A Stand? Even in the Dragon Ball universe, it would be overpowered. But… this was a Stand Arrow. That meant I'd need to pierce myself with it—and there were no guarantees I'd survive the process.

I clenched the arrow in my hand, feeling its power radiate through my skin. Maybe it was an infection from how rusty it was. 

A Stand could be the edge I needed in this insane world. The Dragon's warning echoed: "A REGULAR STAND."

No overpowered pipe dreams. No absurd scenarios. Just something practical, adaptable, and—hopefully—not fatal. My heart pounded as I prepared for the plunge. This was it—the first step in whatever insane journey lay ahead.

At first, my mind wandered to the obvious powerhouses—the "strongest-if-lawyering" stands that would be game-changers even here. 

Stands like Heaven's Door, Killer Queen: Bites the Dust, Soft and Wet, and Wonder of You. They were all "normal" stands, at least at first glance.

But as much as I wanted one of those, I realized they came with their own complications. 

Heaven's Door might count as an Over Heaven stand, Soft and Wet was technically a fusion, Wonder of You was its own insane entity, and Killer Queen with Bites the Dust might as well be a Requiem stand. 

No guarantees. I wasn't about to end up with some downgraded, useless version because of the Dragon's spiteful jokes.

So, I thought of other strong contenders—D4C, King Crimson, Golden Experience, and Star Platinum. But among them, only two seemed to hold real potential: Golden Experience and King Crimson.

Star Platinum? Sure, it had raw power, but it wasn't what I needed most. Besides, I could probably learn time-stopping in the Dragon Ball universe anyway. 

As for D4C, its potential lay in Love Train, and unless I had some guarantee I'd be hopping into that universe or finding the Saint's Corpse, I'd be stuck with its base form.

That left Golden Experience and King Crimson.

I made my decision. "Golden Experience or King Crimson, please," I thought, raising the Stand Arrow and pressing its tip against the palm of my hand.

I hesitated for just a moment. Then, before I could lose my nerve, I stabbed down hard, the arrow piercing through my skin.

Instantly, a searing pain tore through my body—far worse than anything I'd felt up until now. 

The agony was blinding like every nerve was being set on fire and electrocuted simultaneously. My vision blurred, dark spots consuming the edges of my sight. The pain kept intensifying, and I couldn't even scream.

Then, everything went black.

The last thing I felt was my body giving out, consciousness slipping away as the Stand Arrow worked its magic—or its virus? I never really understood if stands were the magic of aliens—deep within me.

How long had I been out? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? I wasn't sure, but gradually, the dark haze started to lift. My senses returned one by one, though slowly, painfully. 

My body ached as if I'd gone through the world's worst workout combined with a fever dream.

I opened my eyes. My surroundings were blurry at first, but the faint light of what seemed to be a private room came back into view. Slowly, I forced myself to sit up, wincing as my body protested every movement.

And then I felt it. Something different—something else inside me.

I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there—a presence that wasn't there before. It was like a connection, a strand to something intangible yet powerful—a Stand. I had a Stand.

A shaky laugh escaped me, a mixture of disbelief and relief. Somehow, I'd survived.

Of course, I'd survive; one is perfect, of their not me.