Morning sunlight spilled into the room through slanted blinds, casting soft lines over the edge of Kai's blanket. He lay still, eyes half-open, listening to the gentle rhythm of the outside world. A faint breeze carried the scent of fresh bread from the bakery three buildings down—warm, yeasty, and nostalgic.
He hadn't set an alarm.
He didn't need one anymore.
After years of dragging himself out of bed for jobs he never liked and deadlines that never mattered, Kai had nothing but time now. Time—and the freedom to shape it however he liked.
And yet, he didn't rush out to conquer the world.
He stayed in bed.
One leg tangled in the sheet, the other hanging off the edge of the mattress, toes brushing the cool wooden floor. He stared up at the ceiling for a long while, watching shadows shift with the morning.
It was his second week back. Two weeks since he'd woken up at 21 again. Two weeks since he'd realized life had handed him a system straight out of a game.
And so far?
He hadn't saved the world.
He hadn't even left his apartment much.
Kai rolled onto his side, reaching for his phone. He scrolled through a blank notifications tab, no pings, no texts. The only unread message was from his internet provider, warning him about his monthly data use.
He chuckled softly.
Just like old times.
He made coffee slowly, the way he always dreamed of when he worked a 9-to-5. No rushing. No microwaved leftovers. No out-the-door panic. Just water boiling in a dented kettle, beans he'd ground by hand, and the quiet of a lived-in morning.
The ritual calmed him.
Pour, bloom, drip. Steam rising against the kitchen window.
He didn't think about the future during those moments. He just listened—to the clink of his spoon against ceramic, the shuffle of socks on the tile, the swallow of hot coffee warming him from inside.
One save at a time.
Kai had always known what he wanted: to live a life that felt authentic.
Not rich. Not famous. Not showy.
Just real.
And maybe, someday, to find people he could share it with again.
That was still a distant thought. A hazy dream on the horizon.
For now, it was enough to live slowly. To choose deliberately. To finally take his time.
He sat at his desk with the window cracked open. His new monitor glowed gently in the soft daylight. The desk was neat—uncharacteristically so. He'd spent the weekend wiping it down, clearing cables, even scrubbing coffee rings off the surface. Starting fresh.
On screen, a dozen tabs were open: crypto forums, online business guides, a silent YouTube video titled "10 Mistakes New Streamers Make". The cursor blinked in an empty Twitch bio section. He hadn't filled it out yet.
Not because he didn't know what to say—but because he didn't want to rush the moment.
He'd created the account. Kaijo.He'd chosen the name.He'd picked out music, overlays, colors.
But he hadn't hit "Go Live" yet.
And that was okay.
Most days, he spent the afternoons watching the city breathe. From his small balcony, he could see into the courtyard shared between his apartment and the neighboring building. It was quiet, dotted with laundry lines and bikes leaning against fences.
On Tuesdays, an old man in a grey tracksuit walked his dog past Kai's building. He never smiled. Never said anything. But he was always there, like a strange piece of local tradition.
On Wednesdays, the bakery sold mini pretzels for half price after 3 p.m. Kai had taken to grabbing a paper bag of them, sitting in the sun, and feeding birds in the park with the ones he didn't eat.
These weren't grand events. Not milestones.
But they made his new life feel like a life.
And it was only just beginning.
One evening, as golden light spilled across the floorboards and the warmth of the day began to fade, Kai opened the Save & Load system again.
🎮 [Current Save Slots]
✅ Slot 1: Day Zero (First Wake-Up)✅ Slot 2: Progress✅ Slot 3: "Kaijo Begins" – Pre-Stream
He hovered over Slot 2. This was the timeline he was playing now. The one where he'd taken it slow, saved money carefully, planned deliberately.
And he was… content.
He didn't need to jump to the streamer mansion yet. He didn't need to reconnect with his old gaming friends or chase down success with both hands.
He could build toward it.
One clean cup.One upload.One late night learning how to edit.
The mansion would come. The friends. The chaos. The noise.
But not now.
Now, it was about rhythm.
That night, he saved again.
✅ Slot 2 Updated – "Evening Routine, Week 2"
No reason. Just a quiet checkpoint. A mental note that this moment mattered.
Because one day, he might want to come back and remember what it felt like.
Not the success.Not the climax.But the part before.
When it was still quiet.
When everything was still possible.
SUPPORT (Early Chapters): patreon.com/KyJo_
YT GAMING: https://www.youtube.com/@KyJoGaming
DISCORD: https://discord.gg/v2uSTygMgb