I, Kigura Senjuro, got transmigrated.
I don't know where.
I don't know how.
All I know is that I blacked out from drinking myself half to death... and woke up inside a boy's body.
There are a few theories I've come up with so far.
One: I actually died from alcohol poisoning.
Two: I got transmigrated into a story I know.
Three: I got transmigrated into a story I don't know, which is honestly more terrifying.
But before anything else
How did I know this was transmigration?
Well...
Let's clear something up.
Regression is when you go back in time or into a younger body while keeping your memories.
Reincarnation is when you're reborn from scratch, memories optional, clean slate, baby crying included.
Transmigration?
Transmigration is when your soul jumps into someone else's body, usually replacing them completely.
And in my case?
I didn't start as a baby.
I woke up already existing.
I overwrite someone.
Both memories mine and the boy's were there, tangled together like badly wired earphones. Sometimes I remember office deadlines. Sometimes I remember chasing chickens as a kid.
If you didn't know the difference before this explanation?
Congratulations. You just gained +10 INT.
Anyway.
My current name is Nero Von.
And yes Von.
My family used to be nobles. Keyword: used to.
The Von bloodline fell generations ago, but instead of clinging to empty pride, my ancestors did something strange for nobles they embraced commoners. Skills over status. Character over lineage. Don't judge a book by its cover.
Because of that, even after losing our title, the name Von never rotted.
People still respected it.
My single dad, Kiego Von is proof of that.
He's a farmer.
More specifically... a baker.
We run a small bakery together. Just the two of us. No servants, no noble luxury just flour-dusted clothes, early mornings, and sore backs.
It's been a few months since I regressed.
In that time, I've done everything: farming, baking, cleaning, serving customers, even working as the receptionist. If there's a job in the bakery, I've done it.
Honestly?
It's exhausting.
But compared to my old life?
It's peaceful.
And then there's the best part.
Magic exists in this world.
I found out a few weeks ago when I saw my dad casually snap his fingers and summon fire magic to light the stove.
No flint. No match. Just fwish.
I stood there like an idiot with my mouth open.
"Dad," I had asked slowly, "you can use magic?"
He looked at me like I'd just asked if the sky was blue.
"Of course. It's basic fire magic. Didn't you know?"
No, Dad. No, I did not.
Thanks to my previous life hobby cooking i started experimenting. Sweets, breads, simple cakes. Things this world didn't really have.
One of them was something called Hawaiian Bread.
The ingredients were simple:
Flour
Eggs
Milk
Butter
Sugar
Yeast
Soft, fluffy, slightly sweet.
To top it off, I made a berry syrup just crushed berries boiled down until they released enough sweetness to coat the bread lightly.
A few days ago, a woman bought one.
She took one bite.
Then another.
Then she froze.
"This," she said slowly, "is the best bread I've ever eaten."
Turns out?
She was a mage.
She paid, left a tip so big my dad's eyes nearly popped out, mounted her ride, and left.
The next day?
Chaos.
Customers flooded in. Nobles, merchants, adventurers people I'd never seen before. The bakery stayed busy until nightfall, nonstop.
When we finally closed?
We counted the earnings.
Not twice.
Not three times.
Four times what we usually made.
That night, I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the wooden ceiling.
Today was insane.
Magic. Baking. Fallen nobility. A second life.
"...I still have so much to learn about this world," I murmured.
And somehow, instead of dread
I felt excited.