He didn't get a sword. He didn't get magic. He didn't even get legs.

Kenji Mori was nobody special. Thirty-one years old, mid-level logistics worker, owner of one dead houseplant and a drawer full of instant ramen. He lived alone, worked quietly, and asked very little of the universe.

The universe, as it turned out, had opinions about that.

One flickering ceiling light and one very loud crack later, Kenji wakes up in a fantasy world — not as a hero, not as a warrior, not even as a slime with a surprisingly robust set of abilities. He wakes up as a seed. A tiny, pale, defenseless seed sitting in the middle of an open grassland where even a worm is a credible existential threat.

No arms. No legs. No way to run, fight, or ask for directions.

Just roots. Two leaves the size of a thumbnail. And the dawning, horrible understanding that in this world — a world of monsters and magic and ancient forests with things moving through them that don't have names yet — he is sitting at the very bottom of the food chain and also, somehow, underground.

But here's the thing about plants.

They don't need to move to grow. They don't need weapons to become dangerous. They don't need anyone's permission to spread their roots into the dark and pull up everything the earth is hiding.

Kenji has no power yet. No allies. No grand destiny announced by a celestial being in a waiting room. What he has is time, patience, sunlight, and a system that just unlocked its first skill — Nutrient Absorption Lv. 1 - with the quiet implication that somewhere down the evolution tree, things get considerably less harmless than a seedling.

The grassland doesn't know what's underneath it.

It will....

Chapter 47 - 45.