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' No manga or anime could do them justice: the hulking demons now brought to life before me. Their rough grey skin was scaly, stretched thin over their bulging, disproportionate limbs. Their mouths were gaping, dragging across their face and lined with long rows of pointed teeth, worn over time with the effort of chewing human meat. Just visible through their pale, crudely carved masks were bulging green eyes, which swivelled this way and that in their sockets.

𝘌𝘮𝘮𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, I pleaded with myself, trying to calm my pounding heart for fear it would give me away. 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 '𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘌𝘮𝘮𝘢 𝘰𝘳 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯. '

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We've all seen it before - Baseline, the protagonist gets hit by a swerving truck, dies, and then is reincarnated in an ideal world. Of course, that's great and all, but first off - it was a Lamborghini. Second, being reborn in one of your favourite series may be a dream come true, but sometimes, things don't go according to plan.

Not only was I in the wrong plant at Grace Field, I had to live up to the expectations of full-scores. Not even that was enough, I now bore the (admittedly adorable) baby face of a Norman lookalike instead of my own.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 -𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 -𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴?