A young man was currently on the dark empty street, he was standing at 5'11, his deep black eyes staring deeply forward trying to catch a glimpse, his high cheekbones instilling a sense of maturity and when coupled with his deep eyes made him look like a hunter of sorts.
But the most distinctive feature of his, was that he had light brown skin.
His clothes were casual clothes which he wore most times.
The time was currently 1 AM, far later than what he was used to. It attributed to the fact that he attended a reunion party with his classmates back in high school.
They had spent a lot of time catching up and were reluctant to say goodbye, he was lucky that he had been able to slip away.
*Ding
He suddenly brought out his phone, aware of what that ding meant.
His attention shifted from the streets and onto his phone, as he entered a website and began reading in earnest.
It was a popular webnovel.
in-fact it was his favorite as it covered what he was most interested with and had an amazing plot and no 1-dimensional characters.
But, there was no shortage of the characters dying because it seemed as if the author was spraying pesticide to kill the characters.
And, this author was a racist! He made that very clear in his work.
But nevertheless this story was amazing.
He looked up, noticing a truck he went coming his way. But believing that the driver was sensible he stayed where he was.
*Honk *Honk
Gritting his teeth he looked up, only to see the truck was just 3 seconds away from sending him to meet God.
His body jolted from the sidewalk and onto the road, missing the truck by a hair's length as he tumbled onto the hard cement.
He got up watching the truck speed away until it was out of sight.
He sighed in relief.
"Imagine, almost getting killed by truck-kun. That'll be some-"
The young man felt the air knocked out of his lungs literally as he was hit by an incoming Infernus. His mouth spewed blood onto the wind-shield as he was thrown several meters back.
Luckily, he was still...
The wheels of the Infernus went over his body, turning it into something relative to mush.
Somehow he was still...
A Sabre Gt came over him from just the same angle crushing his body under the weight of the car.
"FUCK!" He let out an inhumane scream.
His vision faded quickly after that, he felt his body shut down.
'The damn cars-'
The two cars were already long gone, but he could still hear the sounds of an engine.
It was a race and he quickly understood that.
'This must be the punishment of using a car to kill so many people in GTA." He thought as he died.
He couldn't even feel his hear beating anymore and his body stopped responding.
But then he felt everything start again, his body that had gone limp but now he felt like he could control his body a little.
'Aren't I supposed to be dead?' He thought.
He found out he couldn't speak.
'No!'
The engine of the other sports cars reverberated in his ears as what happened some seconds ago came a little too fast.
His mind went haywire as he felt a pain, something was happening and it wasn't any cars.
He found out what was happening, his mouth started moving on his own letting out a pathetic sound for a man to make.
'Am I crying?' He asked himself as he felt himself being pulled out of wherever he was staying.
Several minutes of pain passed as he was slowly pulled out of wherever he was.
He heard gasps all around him as he finally felt free, his eyes were closed but he felt something slimy oozing on his body and from time to time dripping onto the floor.
His eyes seemed like they were permanently closed shut, inhibiting anyone from opening it.
'Come on! Do this.' He screamed in his eyes.
He began to fear that the "accident" with the sports cars had damaged him permanently.
After much effort his eyes finally opened, it wasn't like the experience of waking up for the first time. No, it was the experience of always being aware of your surrounding and shocking the people who thought you were sleeping.
'Oh shit.' He thought.
The woman that was holding him was a maid, however the thing that shocked him the most was the woman half-naked.
His mother.
Long blue hair, a pair of cold red eyes that contrasted her hair, a cold gorgeous face, with soft looking full pink lips.
But the most important part was her skin color: white.
He glanced around frantically checking everyone in the room, they were all white too!
Dread seemed to become one with him as he finally looked at his small, soft hand and this time the sound of crying coming out of his mouth were what he wanted to do.
He had light-brown skin! He was fucking black...
He had been reincarnated into his favorite novel, but as the most despised kind of human being!
The author of the novel proved that he was a racist, such that he didn't care if he shattered his fan-base and only cared about making his point clear.
In this crazy world, being black was a disease and was random, it wasn't a race but rather it was a birth defect.
As long as you weren't his preferred skin color you would never be able to use mana, as a result people born black were useless, bums that were unimportant in the plot.
The worst part was that he was born into one of the four greatest clans, being born as the son of the elder, wouldn't that make him an extra!
Everyone in the room felt the temperature in the room go down as he looked at them, babies weren't supposed to be able to open their eyes until at least one week after birth.
Among everyone the most shocked was the woman who had just given birth, ever since the baby had come out of her womb she had glared at it.
The pregnancy was almost unsuccessful and she had to use all her strength just to push the baby out, only for the baby to be dark-skinned?
Some of her insides were damaged due to the way the baby was removed. Now she felt like it was not worth it.
"Madam what should the baby's name be?" The maid holding him asked.
The woman glared hatefully at the maid, her mere eyes seemingly tearing through her very being.
"Jason. That was the original plan for the name and let it be." She said.
The baby calmed down a bit.
'If I'm getting named that means I'm not getting killed.' He sighed in relief.
Soon enough, an old man came into the room.
He was tall, standing at 6'3 no hair he was just bald, no doubt the sun would shine brightly on his head.
He had eyebrows at a normal length and small eyes that were black and skin that seemed like he was in his 70's.
He wore nothing but a long white robe that extended towards the ground and black sandals.
As soon as he entered the room, the whole temperature rose everywhere suddenly becoming hurt. He glanced at his wife, no doubt injured because of child-birth but when he looked at his supposed son...
His small eyes opened widely.
"Is this... my son?" He asked.