Why Did You Talk to the Body in the First Place? !

I, Hayao Jianharu, an ordinary to extraordinary college student COSER. Ordinary refers to my daily life, and extraordinary refers to my cosplay level. Specifically, anyone with eyes will sincerely ask after reading it: "Are you sure you are cosplaying this character?" Yes, they are the kind that are easily hung in toilets and used as toilet paper when walking on the street. It just happened that when I was dressing up as Tomie Kawakami's skin from Dream Witch (still a gender-changed version), I traveled through time. When he landed on Meteor Street, his body shrunk into a cub, his species... The system said he was no longer a human being. The most important thing is that this system kidnapped the wrong person and sent me back? It says it can't be done. What's even more amazing is that the Dream Witch's own "domestic slave" - ​​according to the system, is currently waiting to be born in the belly of Jiju Padike. So my current situation is roughly like this: the main body is like a cub in Meteor Street, the believers are like fetuses beating up enemy Hakkas, and the system will only send Orz emoticons. Fortunately, the system added a vest called Hayami Haru, which is a fighting type and comes with an assassination fighting skill pack. I can barely count as a teammate who can help me pick up trash. The problem is, I don't know at all whether it is Tomie Kawakami's lingering regeneration ability that has the final say in my body, or the ancient god bloodline of the Dream Witch. In a place like Meteor Street, figuring out what species you are may be more troublesome than living itself! As for the believer Lumi who is far away beating up the enemy Hakka... The body and the believer can share consciousness, ability and lifespan. In theory, it can be regarded as some kind of narcissus relationship of "I support myself". But the question is, will a child who grew up in the Hakka environment really listen to the call of a god like me in the future? * Darcissus Intention: When "I" is no longer "I", living itself is a long negotiation with an unfamiliar self.