original

SAO: Strawberry Bunny

Capítulo 1: Preface

Top VR Gamer Memphis Slater, Aka "Oleander," Found Dead in Suspected Murder

October 2, 2038 — Los Angeles, CA

Memphis Slater, a professional gamer known by his gaming alias "Oleander," has been found dead in his Los Angeles penthouse. The 28-year-old was recognized as the top assassin-class player in the popular VR MMORPG Gaea's Veil, where he dominated leaderboards and gained a massive following for his unmatched skills.

Authorities confirmed that Slater's death was the result of poisoning, and an investigation into the circumstances surrounding his murder has already led to the arrest of a suspect. The Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD) has not yet released the suspect's identity, but sources close to the investigation indicate that the individual is known to Slater.

The crime was reported late Monday evening after one of Slater's friends, concerned by his sudden absence from an online tournament, contacted authorities for a welfare check. When police arrived at his home, they discovered Slater unresponsive. Emergency responders were unable to revive him, and he was pronounced dead at the scene.

Slater was widely regarded as a rising star in the esports world, particularly for his mastery of the assassin class in Gaea's Veil, a game where precision, stealth, and strategy are critical. Under the alias "Oleander," he had built a large community of fans and was considered nearly unbeatable in high-level competitions.

His death has sent shockwaves through the gaming community, with many expressing disbelief over his sudden and tragic passing. Fellow gamers and fans have flooded social media with tributes, calling him "a legend" and "an inspiration."

"This is a tremendous loss to the gaming world," said one of Slater's teammates from a recent tournament. "Memphis wasn't just one of the best players; he was also a kind and generous person, always willing to help others improve."

The LAPD has not disclosed a motive for the crime, but a spokesperson for the department confirmed that they believe the poisoning to be an isolated incident and that there is no ongoing threat to the public.

Slater's family has asked for privacy during this difficult time, while his fans have organized several online memorial events in his honor. The investigation into his death remains ongoing.

More updates to follow as the case develops.

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A sharp gasp pierced the stillness of the room, as the girl startled awake, her heart pounding violently in her chest. Her hands flew to her neck, fingers frantically pressing against her skin, bracing for the suffocating tightness she had felt before. But this time, there was nothing. The air moved easily in and out of her lungs, unimpeded, like a gentle stream. She exhaled shakily, her pulse thundering in her ears as the lingering panic began to ebb, leaving behind a haze of confusion.

Her eyes, wide and disoriented, blinked against the dim light of the unfamiliar room. Warm and opulent, the surroundings felt foreign—lavishly decorated in a way that screamed wealth and status. Yet she had no memory of being in such a place. Her gaze swept over the luxurious fabrics, gilded frames, and soft glows of gold. It made no sense. What the hell...?

Sitting up with a start, her heart leaping back into her throat, she scanned the room as disbelief clouded her thoughts. Her mind scrambled to make sense of where she was and how she had gotten here. Had she been dreaming? Or worse, was she still dreaming?

Then, her eyes landed on a full-length mirror that stood across from the bed. The reflection called to her, though her pulse quickened with dread as she felt a gnawing instinct to avoid it. Still, something compelled her forward. She stumbled toward it, her bare feet gliding across the floor as if in a daze, until she finally stood face to face with the image in the glass.

Her heart seized in her chest.

The face looking back wasn't hers.

She stared, paralyzed by the sight of unfamiliar features. Her hands trembled as they rose to touch her cheeks—soft, unfamiliar skin. Her fingers followed the sharp line of a nose that didn't belong to her, traced the delicate curve of lips that weren't hers. Wide, dark blue eyes blinked back at her, a wild intensity reflected in their depths. This can't be real.

A strangled cry escaped her, breaking the oppressive silence. "Who the heck is this?!" she whispered, her voice hoarse and shaky. The panic, once ebbing, surged again in a tidal wave as her chest heaved with the weight of her shock. "This... isn't my fucking face!"

She stumbled back from the mirror, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. The reflection was undeniable—a stranger's face where hers had once been, but her soul was still there, trapped inside this new, foreign body. Her pulse roared in her ears. Who am I? What happened to me?

Her hands flew to her head, fingers gripping her scalp as the weight of it all crashed over her. Something is very, very wrong.

A sudden, searing pain shot through her head, forcing her to clutch her temples as the world around her blurred. The agony wasn't just physical—it was mental, emotional, as if memories were being forcibly dragged out from the recesses of her mind, making themselves known.

In an instant, they came flooding back—her memories, before she died.

She had been at her penthouse apartment, the evening calm as she relaxed on the plush couch, the city skyline stretching out before her like a glittering sea of lights. She remembered the way the cool air drifted through the half-open windows, the peaceful hum of life below as she scrolled through her phone. Then, a text had popped up on her screen. It was from Zev, her best friend of nearly a decade.

"Hey, I'm downstairs in the lobby with your favorite strawberry rose wine. Coming up now."

A small smile had tugged at her lips at the time, the promise of good company and an even better drink lighting up her mood. She trusted Zev—he was the person who had been there for her through everything: failed relationships, career ups and downs, and late-night gaming marathons. She remembered hearing the knock on the door, the warmth she felt as he stepped inside, bottle in hand and a casual grin on his face.

Zev had poured her a glass of the wine, just as he always did. They had settled in, their conversation naturally drifting to one of their favorite topics—gaming. Specifically, the upcoming beta test for the most anticipated and intimidating VR game of the year, Sword Art Online. They were both excited about it, the thrill of a new challenge sparking between them.

But halfway through her glass, something had felt… off.

Her chest had tightened, her breaths becoming shallow. Her vision had blurred, and panic had set in as her hands fumbled to grasp at the fabric of her clothes, her throat constricting as if an invisible hand was squeezing the life out of her.

And then she saw it—the smirk. Zev's smirk.

Her blood had run cold even as her body felt like it was on fire, her lungs desperately gasping for air. He was standing above her, his face calm, almost smug, as if he had been waiting for this moment. She could barely make out the details as her world darkened, but she saw him pull out his phone and dial a number with unnerving ease.

She heard him speak, his voice smooth, unbothered by the fact that she was dying right in front of him.

"Aubrie, it's done."

The words echoed in her skull like a death sentence. Aubrie. Her ex-girlfriend. The woman who had once meant everything to her, but whose possessiveness and jealousy had poisoned their relationship. They had broken up months ago, the split messy and filled with resentment. Could it be? Was Aubrie behind this?

The pain in her head ebbed, leaving her panting, her hands shaking as she clung to the dresser for support. The girl in the mirror—this new body—stared back at her with wide, frantic eyes. Memories of her past life intertwined with whatever existence she had now, the weight of betrayal pressing down on her like a lead blanket.

Zev, the person she had trusted most, had killed her. And Aubrie… was involved. Her mind raced, heart pounding as questions fired off in rapid succession. Why? Why would they do this? How long had they planned it? What was their endgame?

She let out a choked breath, her pulse hammering as she tried to make sense of the impossibility of it all. But one thing was painfully clear: someone had killed her, and now, somehow, she was alive again. Different, but alive.

And they didn't know.

Her pulse steadied as a chilling thought settled in her mind. This was her chance—a second chance. They thought she was dead. They thought they'd won.

But she was still here. And now, she would make them pay.

As Memphis sifted through the new memories of her current life, she pieced together the details.

Memphis Emberlyn Fraser, a 16-year-old girl, and the daughter of Hampton Fraser, the CEO of a billion-dollar gaming company, NOVA Inc. The connection to gaming was fitting—her old life and this new one seemed to share a thread of destiny.

Her new father, Hampton, was too busy running his empire to be around much. Despite his frequent absence, he had granted her a wish when she asked to be trained in martial arts. Master trainers had been hired, and her new body had become an instrument of precision and power. Memphis was a natural with a sword, a rifle, and acrobatics, all of which she had honed to perfection, seemingly preparing herself for the premiere of Sword Art Online—the very game she had once been anticipating. It was a strange, almost eerie parallel to her former life.

Her life as Memphis Fraser was one of quiet solitude, much like how she used to be, though this new body had a reserved coldness about it. Antisocial by nature, she had built walls around herself, rarely speaking and keeping her emotions locked away behind a stoic, cute face. Despite this, she still managed to unknowingly draw people in—especially girls. Her charisma was effortless, but she seemed blissfully unaware of it.

The strange blend of memories continued to flow through her mind. Her likes and preferences in this life had a distinct softness to them, contrasting with the cold exterior she presented. She had a love for strawberries—strawberry milk, strawberry shortcake, and anything with that sweet red fruit. Even her favorite animal, the pink bunny, added an innocent charm to this otherwise intense, isolated existence.

It was all so overwhelming, trying to reconcile her old self with this new life, trying to figure out what had happened and why she had ended up here. But one thing was certain: her new life offered her advantages she didn't have before. She wasn't helpless. This time, she was stronger, faster, and smarter. And though Zev and Aubrie might not know she was alive again, she knew, and she had the skills to do something about it.

With a deep breath, she steadied herself. This was her second chance. And this time, she wouldn't be caught off guard.

She headed to her walk-in closet. She was wearing baggy yet comfortable pink pajamas and wanted to start her day. Looking through her choices, she saw a lot of pinks, blacks, and whites.

With some contemplation, she decided on a black and neon pink oversized jacket adorned with detailed, intricate prints of various art pieces. The designs were predominantly in neon pink, white, and black, creating a bold visual effect. The jacket has additional details like chains and straps, giving it an edgy, punk aesthetic.

Underneath the jacket was a simple white T-shirt, which contrasted with the vibrant colors and details of the outerwear. A silver chain necklace with chunky, metallic elements was wrapped around her neck. There's also a smaller necklace with spikes. Her ears were adorned with multiple piercings, contributing to the rebellious look.

She chose a belt with studs or metallic embellishments. The pants are black, matching the darker tones of the jacket.

She looked hot if she didn't say so herself.

"Alright, let's see what I missed," she said as she headed to her computer.

An hour in, after she finished last week's news article on GameWire News, she was screaming, "I'm a girl, you idiots! How did you get my gender wrong after my death?!"

Memphis sat back in her chair, her fingers clutching the edges of the armrests as she reread the article. The headline glared at her from the glowing screen: "Top VR Gamer Memphis Slater, Aka 'Oleander,' Found Dead in Suspected Murder."

Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. Not only had they botched the details of her murder, but they had also gotten her gender wrong. Dead, misgendered, and with a whole new life. Great.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the fury bubbling up inside her. It wasn't just the inaccuracy of the news that got to her—it was the fact that the world had moved on. The comments beneath the article were filled with condolences, tributes to "his" legacy, and speculations about the identity of the murderer. No one knew the truth. No one suspected the real killers.

Memphis wanted to scream at them all. Zev and Aubrie. The so-called friends who had betrayed her. The gaming community, which now mourned a version of her that no longer existed. But the truth was more complicated. She wasn't dead—not really. She was here, alive, in a new body, with a new life that had intertwined in ways that felt almost like fate.

They think they've won. They think I'm gone. She thought, staring at her reflection in the computer screen.

Standing up, she crossed the room, her mind buzzing with thoughts, and came face-to-face with the full-length mirror again. The reflection she saw was a jarring shift from the person she had been before.

How can I still be an androgynous pretty face? Even in a new body. Was I cursed to be mistaken as a gentle-looking pretty boy for all time!?

Memphis remembered her old face—how she used to look as Memphis Slater. She had always been laid-back, effortlessly cool, with long, mahogany hair that she often tied up in a loose bun. Her green eyes, always a bit distant and thoughtful, gave her a quiet intensity that made people notice her without her trying. She had loved wearing comfortable clothes—like the camo hoodie she used to wear, her favorite for lounging during long gaming sessions. Coffee in hand, relaxed and almost lazy in appearance, there had always been a depth to her gaze. Despite her reserved nature, she exuded a natural charm. The Memphis Slater of the past was an unassuming yet striking figure in her own way, with an aura of quiet confidence and mystery. That was who she used to be—sharp, calculating, but with a chill, almost aloof vibe.

But the person staring back at her now was a world apart.

In the mirror, she saw a striking figure that blended rebellion and elegance in a way she had never imagined for herself. Her vibrant, tousled pink hair cascaded in soft waves, just past her shoulders, giving her an ethereal yet edgy appearance that contrasted sharply with her previous laid-back look. Her new face was sharp and androgynous—delicate yet fierce, with piercing eyes that glinted with cool intensity. Where Memphis Slater had been casual and unbothered, Memphis Fraser was intense, rebellious, and commanding.

The oversized jacket she now wore was adorned with intricate designs, a mix of neon pink, black, and white, with chains and straps that screamed rebellion. Beneath the jacket was a simple white T-shirt, emphasizing her effortless style. A silver chain necklace with spikes wrapped around her neck, while multiple ear piercings added to her raw, punk aesthetic. Her black pants and studded belt completed the look, giving her a sense of quiet strength—someone who had seen the world's darkness and survived, now stronger than ever.

Memphis, in this reflection, was the embodiment of someone ready to reclaim her life. This wasn't just a new body. It was a new identity—one that was prepared to fight back, take control, and make the world acknowledge her once again.

This is who I am now, she realized, her heart pounding with the weight of that truth.

Memphis wasn't the same person she had been before. Her old life as the VR gaming prodigy "Oleander" had ended in betrayal and poison. But this new life, in the body of a 16-year-old girl named Memphis Fraser, was something different altogether—an unexpected second chance. And now, she had the skills and knowledge to turn the tables on her enemies.

As the article scrolled away, her mind refocused. Her new existence might be tied to the same gaming world she once dominated, but now she had far more than leaderboards to conquer.

It's time to play a different kind of game, she thought. And this time, I'm rewriting the rules.

The gaming world hadn't seen the last of Memphis. Nor had Zev and Aubrie. They would pay for what they did—just as soon as she figured out how to navigate this strange new life.