Chapter 1: From Ramen Noodles to Revenge Menus

A gust of wind rattled the charred remnants of the dojo, stirring a pile of leaves that concealed a very confused young man. He blinked, dust filtering through his lashes, a bewildered groan escaping his lips. "Did my alarm clock really transport me to a Mortal Kombat movie set?"

He pushed himself up, gingerly brushing off grime. The last thing he remembered was slurping down instant ramen in his Tokyo apartment, lamenting his NEET (Not in Education, Employment, or Training) lifestyle. Now, he stood amidst a smoldering wasteland, surrounded by fallen warriors clutching katana-shaped pizza cutters.

Suddenly, a torrent of memories slammed into him like a Hadouken to the forehead. Images of fire, clan pride, and a piercing scream from a man with a flaming skull mask. He stumbled back, the weight of a life not his own settling on his shoulders.

Kenshi. Son of Hanzo Hasashi, the Scorpion. Dead by Sub-Zero's icy hand, resurrected as a glorified plot device. Or at least, that's what the cryptic whispers in his head seemed to imply.

Panic gnawed at him like Shao Kahn's tax collector. His gaming skills pale to a flicker candle compared to these seasoned fighters. He could barely defeat a laggy Wi-Fi opponent, let alone an undead Lin Kuei cyborg.

Then, as despair threatened to drown him in a pit of self-pity, another voice chimed in, cool and calculating. "Master Kenshi, activating protocol 'Golden Finger.' Estimated completion time: 98%... 97%... 96%..."

"Golden Finger?" Kenshi sputtered, "Is that some secret Scorpion technique? Does it involve fingernail art or something?"

The voice, distinctly female and laced with a dry wit, rolled its eyes metaphorically. "Negative. Protocol Golden Finger is an autonomous defense system built by your ancestors. Think of it as a rage-activated cheat code, if you will."

"Cheat code? So, I just yell 'Golden Finger' and magically beat everyone up?" Kenshi's eyes widened. This NEET could get behind that.

"Not quite," the voice chuckled. "Think of it more like, 'Golden Finger' activates a series of automated ninja traps, booby-trapped katanas, and maybe even a self-destruct button for particularly annoying guests."

Kenshi gulped. "Self-destruct? Great. Just what I need – to accidentally explode myself trying to beat Sub-Zero's high score."

"Rest assured, Master Kenshi," the voice soothed, "the system prioritizes your wellbeing. Unless, of course, you yell 'Golden Finger' while standing next to a TNT barrel."

"Right," Kenshi muttered, picturing himself as a cartoon ninja engulfed in flames. "So, how long does this magical finger activation take?"

"Patience, young master," the voice purred. "Remember, great vengeance has a slow cook mode. Estimated completion time: 85%... 84%... 83%..."

Kenshi sighed, resigning himself to a grueling wait. At least he had time to figure out the controls of this body. He cautiously tried a roundhouse kick, wincing as his leg wobbled like a deflated pool noodle. This was going to be a long day, or rather, a long 72% of a day.

In the meantime, Kenshi had one burning question for his sassy inner AI. "Hey, who are you, anyway?"

A beat of silence, then the voice replied with a playful glint, "Oh, just your friendly neighborhood plot device with a side of sass. Call me Kasumi, Master Kenshi. And believe me, I'm about to make your NEET life much more exciting."

Kasumi's words hung in the air as Kenshi surveyed the charred landscape, a mixture of dread and morbid curiosity churning in his gut. Maybe being resurrected in a fantasy video game world wasn't such a bad deal after all. At least it beat filing his taxes.