Year 6666.
Ignis Prime—once known as Mars.
Ice Region.
The wind howled like it wanted to peel skin off bone.
Snowstorms rolled endlessly across the frozen plains, jagged ice formations rising like the teeth of a dead god. The temperature here wasn't just cold—it was hostile. The kind that punished the careless and erased the weak.
And standing in the middle of it—
Was a seventeen-year-old idiot.
He wore a torn jacket, boots packed with snow, hair a mess from wind and sweat. In his right hand—
A pan.
Not a weapon forged in some legendary furnace.
Not a beast spirit.
Not even a blade.
A frying pan.
Three massive ice bears stood in front of him.
Each one was nearly three meters tall when upright, fur crystallized with frost, eyes glowing a dull glacial blue. Their breaths came out in thick clouds, claws digging into the ice as they growled low and deep.
The man tilted his head, casually inspecting them.
Then he grinned.
"Ohhh," he said loudly, voice cutting through the storm, "hello, motherf*ckers!"
The bears stiffened.
He pointed the pan at them like a royal decree.
"I am Shinosuke Nohara," he announced proudly.
"AKA—THE GREAT LORD SHIN!"
The wind paused for half a second.
Shin continued, smile widening.
"The one who—" he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice mockingly,
"—fcked your mama."
The silence shattered.
The bears roared.
It wasn't just sound—it was pressure. Ice cracked under their feet as one of them charged immediately, its massive body slamming forward like an avalanche.
Shin blinked.
Then laughed.
"Huh?" he said, hopping back just in time as claws tore through the spot where his head had been. "What happened, b*tches? Do you even understand what I'm saying?!"
The first bear skidded past him, enraged.
The other two didn't wait.
They attacked together.
From the left—
From the right—
From above as one reared up, bringing both paws down like execution hammers.
Shin's eyes widened.
"HEY—HEY—HEY!!" he yelled, scrambling backward, barely blocking one strike with the pan. The impact sent a shockwave through his arms, numbing them instantly.
"That's cheating!" he shouted. "YOU GUYS ARE ATTACKING AT ONCE?!"
He ducked, rolled, slid across ice, barely avoiding jaws snapping shut where his neck had been a second earlier.
"Ganging up is cheating!!" he screamed. "Did nobody teach you basic combat etiquette?!"
The bears didn't care.
They pressed harder.
Claws tore through snow and ice, chunks flying. Shin was forced into constant motion—jumping, rolling, slipping, barely keeping distance. His pan rang again and again as it intercepted claws that could crush steel.
Minutes stretched.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
Shin's breathing grew heavier. His movements slowed just a fraction.
One bear feinted.
Another caught him from behind.
A claw raked across his back.
RIP.
His pants tore clean open from behind.
Cold air hit skin.
"—AHHHH!!" Shin yelped, leaping forward. "YOU BASTARDS—!"
He spun, rage flaring.
"Oh now you've done it."
He planted his foot hard into the ice.
Something shifted.
Not power exploding outward.
Not aura flaring.
Just—
Focus.
Shin moved.
His body slipped between attacks now, steps sharper, timing tighter. The pan stopped being a joke—it became an extension of his arm. He slammed it into a bear's jaw with a crack that echoed across the plains.
Another strike—rib.
Another—knee joint.
The ice bears roared again, but this time there was pain mixed in.
Shin leapt, kicked off a bear's shoulder, spun midair, and brought the pan down on its skull.
CRANG.
The beast collapsed.
The second lunged.
Shin ducked low, slid under its belly, and drove the pan upward with everything he had.
The bear fell face-first into the ice.
The last one hesitated.
Shin straightened, panting, hair plastered to his face, breath steaming.
"Yeah," he said between breaths. "That's right. Think about your life choices."
The bear roared and charged anyway.
Thirty seconds later—
All three lay motionless.
The wind howled again.
Shin stood in the middle of the battlefield, hands on his knees, breathing hard. He glanced behind himself.
Then froze.
His pants were ripped clean open at the back.
"…You sons of b*tches," he muttered. "You almost ripped my ass off."
He straightened, stretched his arms, ignoring the cold biting into exposed skin.
Then he looked up.
"Wanna know my story?" he asked someone suddenly.
He grinned wide, sharp, shameless.
"Why?" he continued.
"Because I'm gonna be your favourite character in this novel."
He laughed, loud and unapologetic, the sound echoing across the frozen wasteland.
"Well," he said, turning away, voice drifting with the wind,
"my story starts in the year 6654."
The storm swallowed his figure as he walked forward, pan resting on his shoulder, laughter fading into the ice.
Year 6654.
The smell of antiseptic filled the hospital room, clean and sharp, layered beneath something warmer—new life. Machines beeped softly in steady rhythm, lights dimmed to a gentle glow.
Akari Nohara lay on the bed, exhausted but smiling, hair damp against her forehead.
In her arms—
A tiny baby girl slept peacefully, wrapped in a pale blanket. Her fingers twitched once, then settled again.
The door slid open.
A man stepped inside.
Hiroshi Nohara.
Broad shoulders, tired eyes, sleeves rolled up like he'd rushed straight from work. Behind him stood a five-year-old boy with messy black hair and far too much energy packed into a small body.
Shinosuke Nohara.
"Careful," Akari said softly. "She just fell asleep."
Hiroshi nodded, already stepping closer, hands lifting instinctively.
Before he could touch the baby—
"Oi."
Hiroshi paused.
Shin squinted at him suspiciously.
"Old man," Shin said seriously, planting his hands on his hips, "don't you know you shouldn't touch a baby with dirty hands?"
Hiroshi blinked. "…What?"
"Go wash them," Shin added firmly. "You smell like outside."
The room went quiet.
Hiroshi's eyebrow twitched.
"You little brat," he said slowly, "is that how you talk to your father?"
Akari cut in immediately.
"Both of you—stop arguing." She glanced at Hiroshi. "And he's right. Go wash your hands."
Then she turned to Shin.
"And you too."
Shin straightened instantly.
He dropped to one knee dramatically, one hand over his chest.
"AS YOU WISH, MY LIEGE!"
Hiroshi grabbed him by the collar without warning.
"Out," he growled.
They were dragged into the hallway.
At the sink, water running, Hiroshi scrubbed his hands while Shin copied him exaggeratedly, splashing water everywhere.
"Hey," Shin asked suddenly, tilting his head. "Hiroshi."
Hiroshi sighed. "It's Father."
"Whatever," Shin said. "I'm gonna be a big brother now, right?"
"…Yeah."
"So what responsibilities do I have?"
Hiroshi paused.
He glanced at Shin—not joking this time.
"You'll have a lot," he said. "But there's one rule you never break."
Shin leaned in.
"You protect Hinata. No matter what."
Shin nodded slowly.
"And," Hiroshi added, narrowing his eyes, "don't let any Casanovas roam around her."
Shin's eyes lit up.
"Oh?" he said. "Casanovas like you?"
> "HEY YOU BRAT!!"
They returned to the room minutes later.
Shin rushed to the bed, eyes wide, poking the baby gently.
"Whoa," he whispered. "So fluffy."
Akari smiled tiredly.
"Her name is Hinata."
Shin puffed his chest proudly.
"Okāsan," he declared, "Hiroshi says I have responsibilities now."
"Oh?" Akari asked. "What responsibilities?"
Shin pointed at Hinata.
"I'll protect her no matter what."
Then he pointed at Hiroshi.
"And I'll beat up any guys who try to get close to her."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Especially womanizers like Dad."
"HEY!!" Hiroshi shouted.
Akari laughed despite herself.
The room felt warm.
Safe.