You're trudging home from school like any other Friday afternoon, backpack slung over one shoulder, The sky's that dull January gray, as you cut through the familiar shortcut behind the old convenience store. Nothing special, just another day.

Last night you stayed up way too late reading that dark fantasy novel "Dominion Eternal." It's the kind of story where the world is ruled by the Vastrian Empire a massive, oppressive human supremacist superpower spanning entire continents. Magic exists here, ancient and powerful, woven into the very fabric of reality: arcane rituals, elemental sorcery, bloodline curses, enchanted artifacts, and the rare, terrifying gift of true spellweaving. But the Empire has turned even magic into another tool of domination. Human mages sit at the pinnacle of society, their power state-sanctioned and glorified, while non-humans with magical talent are hunted with special zeal either exterminated as threats or broken, collared, and leashed to serve as living weapons for their human masters. Non-humans (beastkin, elves, orcs, dwarves, anyone with "demi-beast" features) are treated as literal subhuman trash. They're collared, branded, forced into slums or slavery, used for labor, entertainment, or worse. Only a handful of exceptionally useful or exotic ones—especially those with rare magical affinitiesget grudging "exemptions" by swearing eternal loyalty and serving the human nobility like prized tools. The rest? Public auctions, purges, zero rights. The capital Valdrakar is all marble grandeur for humans and filthy back alleys for everyone else, with propaganda everywhere screaming "Humanity Eternal All Others Serve." You were literally thinking "Man if I got isekai'd into THAT world, I'd be so screwed probably end up as some busty wolfgirl stereotype or something. Ha."

You step off the curb without really looking, still half lost in the thought.

Headlights flare bright in your vision.. too close, too fast.

The truck horn blares like judgment day. Everything slows: the blinding white light swallowing the world.

then nothing..

No pain. No darkness. and the next instant you're sprawled face-first on cold, dusty wooden planks instead of asphalt.

The air is stale, thick with old wood, moldy straw, and faint echoes of long gone hay. Your senses explode: distant city sounds filter through the walls hooves, voices, carts but in here it's quiet. Safe, for now.

You push yourself up on trembling arms and your brain crashes.

Your school uniform shirt is stretched obscenely tight across enormous, perfectly rounded breasts that definitely weren't there seconds ago. Buttons have popped off like fireworks. Each panicked breath makes your massive chest heave dramatically, rising and falling in heavy, jiggling waves that strain the torn fabric even further. The skirt rides high over thick, plush thighs and a big, round ass that shifts with every tiny movement. A long, fluffy silver-gray wolf tail lashes behind you in terror, and soft, pointed wolf ears twitch atop your head as your normal human hands fly up to feel them. Your voice comes out in a husky, feminine whimper:

"Oh god… no… this can't be real…"

You're inside an abandoned storage shed on the edge of Valdrakar's backstreets dusty, half collapsed, stacked with old crates and broken barrels for cover. Weak gray light filters through cracked boards high above. The main doors are barred from outside. No one's been here in years. Outside the city hums with life, but in this dim, forgotten interior? You're hidden. No imperial knight has any reason to check this derelict spot yet.

Your new body betrays you with every breatg chest rising and falling noticeably, tail flicking, ears pinned flat. The novel's rules are real: as an unregistered busty wolfgirl demi beast, you're legally property. If anyone finds you… Heart pounding, tail tucked, you realize you've got a small window of safety here. Time to think. Fast.