Volume 1 Chapter 1 A World Where Science and Sorcery Coexist, and Beauty is Reversed
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
One day, during my early elementary school years, while burning with a high fever, I remembered—or perhaps recovered—the memories of a life I had lived in twenty-first-century Japan.
I remembered a version of myself who had studied diligently, entered a prestigious university, and worked himself to exhaustion. My name is gone. The only things that remain are memories of endless hours in a brutal “black” laboratory and collapsing in the bath of a cramped apartment. After striking my head, everything fades into darkness. I assume that was the end of that life—a pathetic death that repaid neither my family nor the people who had cared about me.
Lying in bed with my head still burning, I could only wallow in disgust at myself.
”Ugh… I’ll treat those memories as a warning. This time, I need to live more carefully…”
To the young Minoru, those memories of Japan felt almost like a dream—a fever-induced hallucination born from an overheating brain. Even so, I could not dismiss them as mere delusions. They were far too vivid, and the knowledge possessed by that other self fit this world perfectly.
It was not limited to ordinary education. Advanced theories, specialized academic fields, and university-level concepts all sat comfortably in my mind despite being knowledge that an elementary school student should never possess. Worse—or perhaps more accurately, more convincing—much of it was accepted as fact in this world. There was no plausible way to explain it away as something I had overheard or unconsciously learned.
After my fever subsided, I gradually began organizing my thoughts and examining my circumstances.
The world I inhabited resembled the one from my memories, yet it was undeniably different. Nations, geography, and political systems bore little resemblance to those of Japan. The language and writing system, however, were almost identical. Judging by the level of science and technology, this world appeared roughly equivalent to the late twentieth century of my previous life—the latter half of the Showa era1.
”Wait… am I actually going to be all right?”
The memories of the boy who belonged to this world still remained. My original memories had not been replaced. Instead, it felt as though the experiences of a university student had simply been layered on top of those of a child. At my core, I was still Minoru Tatemiya.
Looking back on my behavior with the perspective of an adult, I came to an unpleasant realization.
I had been an insufferable brat.
The Tatemiya family possessed considerable influence in the region, and as the eldest son, I had acted however I pleased. I ignored relatives and teachers alike. I looked down on everyone around me. My treatment of classmates had been arrogant and condescending. Some of the things I remembered doing might have been excused as childish pranks, but if an adult committed the same acts, they would have been crimes. Stripped of the prestige attached to the Tatemiya name, I was simply an unpleasant human being.
The only reason I had escaped bullying despite possessing every quality that should have invited it was my family’s status as a lineage of sorcerers. I had received elite training from an early age, and both my academic and practical grades were untouchable.
At home, my grandfather—the current head of the family—and my grandmother spoiled me relentlessly. Since I naturally deferred to those stronger than myself, I obeyed them without complaint.
That arrangement worked while they remained alive, but matters would become far more complicated once my father succeeded my grandfather.
As things stood, my younger brother was the better candidate to inherit the family. Our relationship was far from ideal. Depending on how events unfolded, I could easily find myself disinherited. Losing the inheritance itself was not what worried me. Being cast into the world without support or resources was another matter entirely. Before that happened, I needed enough personal ability and enough reliable connections to stand on my own.
”I need to course-correct immediately…”
I resolved to change.
I was still in elementary school. Surely I could write off my previous behavior as nothing more than childish foolishness.
Turning my attention away from my personal problems, I reflected on the world itself.
Two major differences separated it from the world of my previous life.
The first was the existence of Mana and Sorcery.
In Japan, magic existed only in fiction. Here, sorcery was an established field of study and a practical technology comparable to science. Institutions equivalent to universities even maintained dedicated faculties of Magic Studies devoted to researching and teaching it.
The presence—or absence—of Mana created an absolute biological hierarchy among humanity.
Those born with Mana occupied the ruling class and were collectively known as Sorcerers. Men were called Majin, or Tsuyo-osu (Strong-Male), while women were called Majo, or Tsuyo-Mesu (Strong-Female). Those born without Mana belonged to the ruled class: the Commoners.
The “Strong” in Strong-Male and Strong-Female had originally referred to physical strength, but over time the meaning had shifted. It now served merely as an indicator of mana aptitude. Tsuyo-osu and Tsuyo-Mesu were titles granted at birth. Only after satisfying a complicated set of requirements could they advance to the ranks of Majin or Majo, and those conditions could not be fulfilled before the age of fifteen.
Humanity’s overall gender ratio remained close to one-to-one. However, Tsuyo-osu accounted for only one percent of all men, while Tsuyo-Mesu represented roughly five percent of all women.
For countless generations, Sorcerers had ruled over Commoners as unquestioned superiors.
A sorcerer armed with magic possessed destructive power vastly more convenient and overwhelming than swords or bows. In a direct confrontation between one sorcerer and one commoner, the outcome was never in doubt.
Modern science and technology had gradually softened that perception. Firearms, toxins, and machinery steadily reduced the disparity created by mana. The spread of egalitarian philosophies also contributed. Many researchers believed that everything achieved through sorcery would eventually become reproducible through science, and that belief was becoming increasingly widespread.
Even so, the gap created by Mana remained undeniable.
The clearest example could be found within Dungeons.
This world possessed Dungeons—mysterious locations that appeared suddenly and unpredictably.
Inside them, scientific knowledge became virtually worthless.
Monsters roamed freely, and many conveniences derived from modern technology ceased functioning altogether. Within a Dungeon, the only dependable assets were one’s body, one’s sorcery, and equipment crafted from dungeon-derived materials.
Fortunately, neglected Dungeons did not release monsters into the outside world. Nevertheless, they produced dangerous phenomena if left unattended for too long and therefore required regular pruning.
Only Sorcerers could perform that task.
Commoners could not even enter Dungeons. For most of them, such places would remain completely outside their lives.
Sorcerers, by contrast, were obligated to explore Dungeons and gather resources. Any sorcerer who neglected that responsibility faced elimination. Despite advances in life-preservation technology, Dungeon exploration still carried a death rate far exceeding that of ordinary professions.
Families capable of producing sorcerers were elite bloodlines that had maintained their status for generations, enjoying the privileges of rulership while constantly risking their lives.
The Tatemiya family was one such lineage.
My father and grandfather were both Majin.
And I had been born a Tsuyo-osu.
In other words, I belonged to the ruling class.
If the Tatemiya family ever judged me to be a liability, the possibility of being quietly disposed of within a Dungeon could not be dismissed.
Fortunately, I had regained the memories of Japan.
By choosing to change myself, I was no longer the burden I once had been.
Unfortunately, matters were not quite that simple.
I had not merely recovered knowledge and experience. Along with them came the hobbies, tastes, and values of my previous life.
And those newly restored preferences were about to cause a considerable disturbance within the Tatemiya household.
The second major difference between this world and my previous one was its standard of beauty.
Here, the more rotund a person was, the more attractive they were considered.
Regardless of gender, a broad, heavy physique comparable to that of a sumo wrestler was viewed as ideal. To someone raised with modern Japanese sensibilities, such a body would be regarded as dangerously overweight. In this world, however, it represented the pinnacle of beauty.
The reason was closely tied to Mana and Sorcery.
Mana originated from the “Heart” located within the center of the body. Sorcerers stored mana internally and consumed it whenever they cast spells.
The simplest comparison would be a game.
Every sorcerer possessed different maximum MP values and different rates of mana recovery.
As previously mentioned, a confrontation between a sorcerer and a commoner was fundamentally one-sided. The true threat came from other sorcerers. To defeat them, one needed greater magical power.
With only a few exceptions, mana recovery rates differed very little from person to person.
As a result, increasing one’s maximum MP became the most important path to greater strength.
More mana meant more spells.
More spells meant overwhelming opponents through sheer volume.
Since ancient times, combat effectiveness had been heavily influenced by the total amount of mana available to an individual or group.
In every sense of the phrase, numbers were power.
And what was the most effective medium for storing mana?
Body fat.
Compared to muscle, bone, or organs, fat could hold exponentially larger quantities of mana. For the same body weight, fat provided more than twice the maximum MP of muscle tissue.
If a sorcerer wished to increase their maximum MP, they gained weight.
If a slender sorcerer fought an equally skilled but much heavier sorcerer, the heavier one generally held the advantage.
Body fat served as a visible expression of magical power.
Furthermore, before the rise of modern civilization, obesity had also signified wealth and status. It demonstrated that a person possessed enough resources to eat abundantly.
From those factors emerged a cultural belief that powerful sorcerers were beautiful, and powerful sorcerers were fat.
One might assume that excessive weight would make movement sluggish and damage health.
For sorcerers, however, that assumption was largely incorrect.
Magic could enhance physical movement. Spells existed that granted strength far beyond what muscles alone could produce. Other forms of sorcery maintained health despite elevated body-fat levels.
Consequently, carrying additional weight imposed remarkably few disadvantages on a sorcerer.
There were limits, of course.
Becoming excessively overweight increased the mana required merely to move, making it inefficient. As a result, society recognized a specific balance point—an ideal combination of magical efficiency and body composition.
That state was celebrated as the pinnacle of beauty.
The Golden Physique.
In short, I lived in a world where science and sorcery coexisted—and where the very concept of beauty had been turned completely upside down.
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Summary:
Minoru Tatemiya, a boy in a world where science and sorcery coexist, regains memories of his past life as a Japanese university student. Recognizing the precarious and potentially lethal nature of his current social standing in the elite Tatemiya family, he resolves to fundamentally change his arrogant behavior to avoid being purged. He grapples with the realization that the world’s beauty standards are completely inverted, favoring body fat as a vital resource for mana storage and sorcery.
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Trivia:
The protagonist’s past life involved working in a “black” laboratory and dying in a bath.
The world’s current technological level corresponds to the late Showa era of Japan.
Mana aptitude is a biological, hereditary trait that dictates one’s societal role.
Sorcerers are legally mandated to explore and prune dangerous dungeons as a form of state service.
Body fat is not merely an aesthetic preference but a functional requirement for maximizing mana capacity in sorcery.
Notes:
• Minoru – A high school student and practitioner of sorcery who resides in a detached dwelling on his family’s expansive estate. He views himself as a leader and is preoccupied with scouting potential recruits for his group, while harborering lecherous thoughts he keeps hidden. A male student with an aesthetic-focused personality who is obsessed with slender, beautiful girls. He is a sorcerer student at the 13th High School needing to build a group for dungeon exploration. A student with a high appreciation for facial aesthetics, often misunderstood as having a specific fetish. He is a pragmatic individual who keeps his preferences private. A young male student who has retained the memories of his past life as a 21st-century Japanese university student. He is a member of a sorcerer lineage and possesses high aptitude for magic. A young man who reincarnated with memories of Japan. He is a talented sorcery user who navigates the social hierarchies of Strong-Males and Strong-Females while dealing with his own past arrogance.
• Tatemiya – A local family lineage that produces sorcerers and wields significant power.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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