I Died and Was Reincarnated as a Goth Femboy

Kenjiro stood frozen in the marshy clearing, the beautiful priestess's final, dismissive words echoing in his mind: "He's cute, I suppose, but he feels incredibly weak." It was a dagger to his heart, a far more painful blow than any punch or kick he had endured in this world.

Ryo sauntered over, slinging an arm around Kenjiro's slumped shoulders. "Don't look so down, Bombom," he said, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. "That's just how she is. Think of it as tough love. She called you weak to motivate you, to make you want to get stronger... so you can keep working on those glutes." Ryo finished with a triumphant laugh.

Lost in a haze of rejection and newfound determination, Kenjiro didn't even register the jab. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the spot where the priestess had disappeared. "Yes," he whispered, his voice filled with a passion that surprised even himself. "I will keep getting stronger. I'll show her... I'll prove to her that I'm—" He blinked, the words finally processing in his brain. He whipped his head around to face Ryo. "Wait, what did you say about my glutes?!"

He started yelling at Ryo, his face a furious red, but was interrupted by a cheerful ping from his phone.

Mission Complete! +6,000 Femboy Coins, +1,500 Standard Coins have been added to your wallet.

Just then, Gluteus and Kaito walked over, picking up the loot dropped by the defeated mages.

"Yes, indeed," Gluteus rumbled, overhearing their conversation. "You must work on your best muscle, Sir Bombom." Before Kenjiro could react, the giant knight gave him a light, but firm, slap on the butt. "For motivation!"

Kenjiro let out a sound that was halfway between a shriek and a gasp. He was blushing so hard he felt dizzy, his mind completely short-circuiting. He spun around, pointing a trembling finger at everyone. "YOU—! STOP—! MY BUTT IS NOT—!" He devolved into incoherent yelling while the rest of the party roared with laughter.

The trip back to the guild was filled with a familiar pattern of teasing and Bombom's tsundere-fueled rage. As soon as they arrived, he stormed past everyone and made a beeline for the gym. His thoughts were a raging inferno. Stronger. I have to get stronger. This world will not make me stay this way. I refuse to be a cute goth femboy!

He grabbed the heaviest weights he could manage and started lifting, pouring every ounce of his humiliation and anger into the workout. His reflection in the gym's mirrored wall stared back at him—the slender body, the purple skirt, the angry, flushed face. He grunted, pushing through another rep, and then he noticed something.

Something impossible.

His eyes. They were perfectly lined. A subtle, smoky eyeliner that made his brown eyes pop, expertly applied without a single smudge, even after sweating through a battle in a humid marsh. He touched his cheek. His skin was flawless, smooth. He had never, not once, applied makeup in this world. It was just... there. It never vanished. It never needed a touch-up.

That's why they called him an S-Tier Lily. It wasn't just his features; it was a permanent, magical state of beautification. The realization didn't bring comfort. It brought pure, unadulterated fury. He wasn't just in a femboy's body; he was trapped in a perpetually dolled-up one.

With a primal scream of rage, he dropped the weights and doubled his efforts, his workout becoming a frantic, desperate war against his own, inescapable cuteness.