The Sorcerer Killer's Third Chance (JJK x Re:ZERO)

Arrival at the Mansion

Ngh... Ugh...

Toji stirred, his body heavy as lead, muscles aching in ways he hadn't felt in years—decades, maybe. The sharp smell of medicinal herbs and faint traces of lavender tickled his nose, making him scrunch his face instinctively. His eyelids dragged open, revealing a dimly lit ceiling carved from smooth wood, polished to perfection. It wasn't a cave, an alley, or even a battlefield.

It was unfamiliar.

Where the hell am I?

Toji groaned, sitting up halfway before a dull pain stabbed through his ribs. He winced, running a hand across his chest. The fabric of a clean, white robe clung to his frame—definitely not the ragged black one he remembered wearing. His brain felt foggy, like he was missing chunks of memory.

His last clear thought hit him like a punch to the gut: Reinhard. That pretty boy had knocked him out cold after some ridiculous sword trick.

"Figures..." he muttered under his breath, his voice rough. Someone was bound to get lucky eventually.

Toji blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the soft glow of light filtering in through a grand window. The room was... regal was the only word that came to mind, though he wouldn't admit he even knew what that word meant.

The bed he'd been laying on was unreasonably large, like it had been made for a giant—or someone with an ego bigger than their wallet. Gold patterns lined the pristine white walls, curling into intricate shapes that probably took some poor schmuck years to carve. A small table held a tray of untouched food, steam still faintly rising from a bowl of soup.

Toji scowled. Fancy as hell. I don't like it.

With a grunt, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, the plush carpet muffling the sound of his bare feet hitting the floor. His movements were deliberate, careful. He didn't trust how light his body felt—like his strength had been sapped while he was out.

Crossing the room, his hand brushed over a gilded chair and a velvet cushion on the way to the door. Everything felt too soft, too perfect. It grated on him.

"Whoever owns this place has too much damn time on their hands," he muttered, gripping the cold brass handle of the door.

He cracked it open, peering into the hallway beyond. The corridor stretched endlessly in both directions, lined with a red carpet that looked like it could have paid for a small country. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals catching the faint light from tall, narrow windows.

Toji stepped out, his bare feet silent against the plush carpet. He glanced down the hallway to his left, then to his right.

This place is a maze.

Toji exhaled slowly, the sound of his footsteps barely audible against the thick carpet. He didn't have a destination in mind, but then again, when did he ever? His instinct was always to move forward, to keep going, because stopping never helped anyone.

The hallway stretched on like an endless ribbon, adorned with high ceilings and polished wood. As he walked, his gaze flickered over a large painting mounted on the wall. It depicted a serene forest—trees towering over a winding river, sunlight filtering through the leaves. A peaceful, idyllic scene that reminded him of nothing but the slow, aching pull of boredom.

He glanced at it for a moment, his eyes narrowing. There was something about the scene that felt... off. But then again, everything here felt off.

Shaking his head, Toji turned away and continued his trek down the hall. He had no idea where he was going, just that he needed to move. Keep going until something made sense.