"The world isn't fair."
Noah's father had told him that when he was just a kid, and he remembered it like it was yesterday.
His father had just lost his job in a round of layoffs. Noah saw him come home sobbing that day.
Why wouldn't he be crying? He had given his best years to that company, never missing a day of work, always loyal.
Yet, in the end, a privileged rich kid — who was also the Assistant Director's nephew, by the way — got the position Noah's father deserved.
That incident shattered his father.
He didn't take it well.
He accused the Assistant Director of unfairness and tried to punch him… but ended up getting arrested for aggravated assault.
From there, his life only spiraled downhill. Blacklisted by other companies in his field, he was left jobless.
Defeated and crushed, he turned to alcohol and cheap drugs. Noah's mother tried to get him back on track at first, but she eventually had enough.
At last, she ran away with a wealthy guy she had met while picking up her drunk husband from a bar, taking Noah's baby sister with her.
A few days later, she sent divorce papers.
After that, it was just Noah and his father.
But just to be clear – Noah didn't exactly love that guy. He didn't even respect him as a man. His father never made an effort to work or help around the house. He was merely a shell of his former self.
Noah had to work part-time after school to support them both, cover his tuition, and even pay his father's medical bills after he was diagnosed with cancer, all while taking care of the home chores.
But despite everything Noah did, his father never once hugged him or told him he was proud. He just drank as usual and ignored him as best he could.
In fact, Noah couldn't recall having even one proper conversation with him.
That's why, when his father passed away, Noah felt… relieved.
Maybe that made him a bad person, but his father's death lifted a weight off his shoulders. No more caretaking, no more medical bills. No more nothing!
He was free.
So, yeah, Noah didn't love him or got to learn much from him… except that the world isn't fair and justice is merely an illusion.
Every day, the powerful exploit the weak. The rich get richer while the poor struggle. Happy endings? They don't exist in this world.
Loyalty is ignored in favor of nepotism and goodwill eventually gives way to corruption, while hard work is overshadowed by god-gifted talent.
Those who try to change the world are silenced, their voices drowned out by those who benefit from the status quo.
In a world like that, where even the tiniest sliver of hope is immediately snuffed out, is it even worth trying? What's even the point?
Take him, for example. Noah had to drop out of college because he stood up to a bully who was harassing a girl. By sheer stroke of luck, or lack thereof, that boy turned out to be the governor's son. His dear daddy ended Noah's future with one phone call to the Dean.
Now Noah juggled multiple low-end jobs just to get by.
Just last night, while working a late shift as a waiter at a fancy restaurant upstate, he ran into his mother and her new family.
Noah wanted to avoid them desperately, but he had to take their order. So, he steeled his heart and walked up to them.
And guess what his mother said when she saw him after all these years?
"You're embarrassing."
Yeah, apparently, his job was beneath her new upper-class status. She said she always knew he would end up just like his father—a sad failure. But what did she even know about him?
So what if his life didn't turn out as planned?
So what if he wasn't exactly wealthy or successful?
One thing he sure as hell wasn't was sad. In fact, he was happier than ever. And what was the key to his happiness? He had no expectations! That way, he could never be disappointed.
He had simply given up on everything.
Yes, it might sound depressing, but maybe that's the secret to true happiness. Everyone should try it. Embrace it. It's the only way one can be free!
…Anyway, the point is that quitting while one is behind is not inherently a bad thing. There is nothing to be ashamed of. As a matter of fact, giving up feels great!
So...
"Why the hell is this bastard not giving up?" Noah growled in frustration, barely resisting the urge to smash his controller as he reminded himself how expensive it was.
He was in his small studio apartment – it was dark and messy, with crumpled ramen wrappers and empty soda cans littered all around the room.
The only source of light came from the screen of his old TV, to which his second-hand gaming console was plugged.
He was playing a game called Spirit Realm Chronicles.
It was an RPG-visual novel hybrid. The game was surprisingly good, considering it was developed and launched by an indie studio as their first project.
It had every element that makes a game great – intricately crafted storylines, challenging yet rewarding gameplay, good graphics, and some of the best BGMs Noah had heard in recent years.
Sure, the game started with the typical academy setting cliché, but it developed into so much more. Even the harshest critics had deemed it a near-perfect game with a staggering 8.5/10 stars rating across the internet.
Why only near-perfect, then? Well, because the game was nigh-impossible to beat.
The total gameplay time was somewhere between 100-120 hours, but if one wanted to achieve full completion, it was going to take up around 165 hours to do so.
Moreover, there were around twenty main routes, fifteen hidden routes, and six special routes. Meaning the game had a total of forty-one endings.
Yet, none of them were true happy endings!
The creators had claimed that there was indeed a happy ending, though it was not very simple—or easy, for that matter—to achieve. But it was there.
Well, Noah, and the whole fanbase in general, called bullshit.
It had been six months since the game was released and became an instant hit, yet not a single soul had been able to find that happy ending.
People had tried endlessly, playing hours upon hours to get to the promised happy end, but they all failed.
There was just no way to beat the final boss – well, not unless you wanted most of the main characters, the protagonist himself, and half of the world to die.
There are a few routes where the protagonist saves the world and his allies from certain doom, but even then he'd make a huge sacrifice — which is basically getting imprisoned in Void for all eternity.
That couldn't exactly be called a happily ever after now, could it?
So, as it had become his usual routine, tonight on Sunday's eve, Noah was spending his weekend facing the final boss of the game, the Spirit King, once again after weeks of preparation.
And just as usual, no matter what path he chose or strategy he employed, the outcome was the same as always: defeat or the world's destruction by the Spirit King's overwhelmingly profane powers… sometimes even both.
He had tried every conceivable tactic he could find on the online forums or think of himself, yet nothing helped. He was trapped in a relentless cycle of failure and loss.
The Spirit King just wouldn't give up!
You could try to kill his entire army, decimate his corrupted kingdom, and put an end to all his malevolent plans… but in the end, he would always find a way to screw the protagonist over! Always!
Needless to say, Noah was beyond annoyed by this point.
"Dammit!"
After his final run ended in yet another bitter defeat, Noah snapped in a mix of exhaustion and frustration, throwing his controller onto the couch, the soft clatter echoing through his cramped apartment.
"Why the hell can't I win?!" he muttered, glaring at the screen as the game's dramatic "Game Over" sequence played for what felt like the hundredth time.
This time he did everything perfectly! He chose the most secure routes, collected all the cheat Cards, built a strong Deck, and leveled up his Potential tremendously!
Still, he lost! How?!
What could have been done differently?!
What else could he do now?!
"Fuck this!"
Feeling drained, Noah decided to call it a night.
He looked around his small apartment… piles of trash, an unmade bed, and dirty dishes soaking in the kitchen. The once cozy space now felt like a prison of his own making.
With a sigh, Noah grabbed his jacket and stepped outside. He was in no mood to do the dishes or cook anymore.
•••
The night air was cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the fusty and suffocating atmosphere inside his room.
He walked through the quiet streets to get to the nearest convenience store, his footsteps slightly unsteady. The road was deserted, bathed in the dim glow of streetlights, casting long shadows that seemed to move with each step he took.
He reached the store and walked in through the automatic gates, the bright fluorescent ceiling light near the entrance fluctuating slightly.
The aisles were empty, save for a solitary hunched figure stocking shelves. It was an old man with a bald head and long, gray goatee.
His name was… something that Noah had forgotten. He was the store's owner.
There was a rumor that the old man was crazy.
Apparently, the geezer had more than once run out to the streets, shouting at people that God had died and the end was coming or something along those lines.
He had also flashed people on multiple occasions.
So, crazy and a pervert.
Well, in his defense, the old man lived alone. He had no family to speak of and not many acquaintances from what Noah had observed over the years.
So, it wasn't a surprise that he was a bit senile. Living all alone with just one's own thoughts could do that to a person. Noah knew it all too personally.
…Oh, well. Whatever.
Whistling a melody, Noah wandered down the rows, eventually selecting a tiffin for dinner. As he approached the counter, he fumbled for his wallet, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in.
"Just this," Noah said, placing the tiffin on the wooden counter as the old man came to scan the item. After scanning it, he handed Noah his change.
Was it just him or was the old man looking at him kind of… somberly… almost sympathetically?
Well, it wasn't something new. Noah was short, malnourished, and had deep, baggy dark circles under his eyes. His slightly long black hair was almost always dirty and disheveled.
In other words, most of the time he looked only a bit better than a random local beggar. So, he was used to people pitying him — after all, it was easy to take advantage of such people.
There were also some who were disgusted by him – those he hated.
Shaking his head, Noah pocketed the coins and was about to leave when suddenly the old man spoke something – his tone low and inaudible:
"In the place where dreams end, find the name never spoken. Only there will the heavens yield."
Noah looked up, confused. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?"
—Thwamm!!
Before the old cashier could repeat, a deafening crash shattered the night's silence. Noah barely had time to react as a big truck smashed through the wall of the convenience store, plowing into him with brutal force.
Pain exploded through his body, a searing agony that stole his breath.
He couldn't seem to understand what had happened as he was thrown against the shelves, the impact crushing his bones to splinters.
He plopped to the floor, his body mangled and his vision blurring.
The world around him suddenly became a chaotic blend of flashing lights, the distant wail of sirens, and the frantic shouts of bystanders, but everything seemed to be fading away.
His head was a mess; he couldn't seem to form one comprehensible thought. But he instinctively knew one thing—he was about to die here.
He… really was about to die…
As Noah lay there, his life slowly ebbing away, he felt a rush of panic and inexplicable fear. He was suddenly cold… so very cold.
There were a multitude of emotions bombarding his consciousness — sadness, horror, and desperation to name a few — but only one triumphed over all else.
Regret.
It was true what they say about life flashing before one's eye at the time of death.
As Noah relived his life in a blink, he suddenly regretted the bitterness, the resentment, the moments he had given up. He thought of his father, his mother, and the pathetic life he had led.
He was going to die…
He was actually going to die without making anything of himself! He would die as no one, forgotten after becoming a morning news headline! He didn't form any long-lasting relationships, nor did he do something commendable!
He didn't leave a single mark of his existence behind – proof that he had lived! He was going to die, and no one was going to remember him!
No one was going to even mourn him…
Maybe he could've tried harder, hoped more, fought against the despair that had inevitably consumed him.
But in the end… all that he was left with was regret.
He tried to utter something, but his throat was drowning as he choked on his own blood, not able to mutter a single noise as his final breath died on his lips.
He tried to move, but his body felt limp, not responding to his brain. He tried to stay awake… but he was oh so very tired. So, so tired.
In the end, he closed his eyes, giving up one final time as darkness came and claimed him.
"Haaa!"
The sterile scent of antiseptic and the steady beep of medical machinery pulled me from the depths of my slumber as a breathless gasp escaped my lips.
The harsh ceiling lights overhead made me squint as I tried to make sense of my surroundings.
I had to fight the sedatives that must've been injected in my veins to keep myself from dozing off.
Looking around, I noticed clean white walls, a drip attached to my arm, a machine constantly monitoring my heart rate, and the faint hum of distant conversations right outside the door.
As I thought, I was still in the hospital room.
I ended up here last evening after… the fight.
"Arghh," I groaned, bringing a hand to my face and massaging my eyebrows. "So everything I remembered is real, huh?"
That was... a problem.
More than a problem! It was a disaster!
My name is Samael Kaizer Theosbane.
I'm the fifth son of Duke Arthur Kaizer Theosbane. My father is the Overlord of half of the Western Safe-Zone and one of the strongest Hunters to have ever lived.
I naturally lived a lavish and privileged lifestyle as the youngest child of the Theosbane clan. From a very young age, I was deemed a child prodigy.
I was smart, clever, and a quick learner.
That title of genius stuck with me until my early adolescence.
The problem was that even by the age of thirteen, I had yet to awaken my Origin Card.
An Origin Card is awakened after experiencing a strong physical or emotional ordeal – ranging anything from years of grueling training to a harrowing near-death experience.
That's why all the Great Noble Clans put their children through harsh physical and mental discipline from a young age to help them materialize their Origin Card early, because one can't awaken it after the age of fourteen.
So, I had only one year left if I wanted a chance at awakening.
All my siblings had already awakened by this time, even my twin sister, who was only a few minutes older than me! Even she had awakened!
What was wrong with me?
Was I broken?
I could see the disappointment in my father's eyes growing every single day. And after some time, he stopped paying any attention to me at all.
It was torture. I wanted him to look at me with pride—or just look at me at all! I wanted him to notice me, to be happy with me, to tell me he was there for me! But he never did.
I trained from dawn to dusk until all the bones in my body howled in agony. I meditated for hours upon hours every day. I even started getting into fights—real, ugly street fights. But nothing worked.
When I had lost all hope, in an act of desperate measure, I snuck into our family's private training dungeon below the clan mansion and unshackled a Spirit Beast there. Then, I attempted to fight it.
Needless to say, I was overpowered in seconds and was about to be mauled to death. Thankfully, my father showed up just in time and rescued me by slaying the beast.
I was... ecstatic! Overjoyed not because I was saved, but because my father had finally noticed me! Maybe getting nearly killed was worth it after all!
...It wasn't.
After dispatching the threat, my father turned to me, his eyes cold and merciless as ever, and said in a voice completely devoid of any love, "You're a disgrace."
Disgrace.
That word must've echoed in my ears a thousand times… taunting me, mocking any hope I had of a happy relationship with my father.
At that moment, I knew he would never love me. I was too weak for his standards, a mere waste of his precious time.
It shattered me. Broke me. I cried for days, weeks even, after those heart-wrenching words were uttered to me by the man I grew up worshiping as my idol… my hero.
It was the worst fourteenth birthday I could've asked for...
But just hours after that incident, I finally did it. I manifested my Origin Card.
People, including my father, thought it was because of the dungeon incident. They were partially right.
It was indeed a result of what happened in the dungeon — not because the Spirit Beast almost killed me, but because my father's words did. Only I knew that truth.
I had little hope of ever gaining his approval after that. He had already judged me useless.
Even though I awakened a powerful Origin Card with high-rank Soul Potential, I still paled in comparison to my twin sister, whom my father began grooming as his heiress and the next Duchess.
Perhaps it was then, in a cry for attention, that I began lashing out — ranting and raving at servants, hitting people, picking on children my age, and often bursting into unprovoked violence... all because I knew I would face no consequence.
So what if my father saw me as a disgrace? I was still the Duke's son. That thought alone gave me a perverse sense of power high. I really began to enjoy hurting others.
Everyone was merely a toy for my amusement, after all. And inflicting pain on people became the most gratifying way to satisfy a dark, twisted part of me.
Who would dare to stand against me?
Even without my noble status, I was strong. In fact, I was the strongest Awakened kid my age I knew—second only to my twin sister.
I ruled my high school with an iron fist. With unparalleled strength, I subdued all the teen gangs in the city, making a name for myself as one of the toughest fighters.
Sure, I was arrested a few times—for underage drinking, violent crimes, drug use, unlawful weapon possession, and some other things I can't mention—but it was nothing my clan couldn't handle. I was bailed out every single time, with all charges dropped.
I guess what I'm trying to say is I was never punished for my improper behavior. I believed I was invincible.
...But I wasn't.
A few months back, one of my friends started picking on a Mundane kid in our high school—Mundane, by the way, is slang for someone who hasn't Awakened even after crossing the fourteen-year age mark.
In our society, Mundanes are deemed worthless. Okay, maybe not exactly worthless, but they're definitely put below the Awakened populace.
On top of that, this kid was an orphan, ugly, chubby, and way too much of a goody-two-shoes. We were a bunch of bullies! You can't possibly blame us for picking on an easy target like him!
Right?
I mean, if you don't want to get bullied, then maybe you should lay low around a bad group of people. And don't try to take a stand for other bullied nerds unless you want to join their ranks!
That kid didn't understand those simple rules. He did try to take a stand for a classmate of his. So, one of the guys in our group put him in his place—by throwing him inside a locker, that is.
But he didn't relent. He kept trying to raise his voice against us.
So, we made him our errand boy.
I had no problem with it at first, until my girlfriend, Lily, came to me. She asked me to stop torturing the poor guy and told me his life story. She knew about him since they were both in the same class.
Apparently, he lost his parents a few years ago—both his father and mother went missing while on duty in the Spirit Realm. His only family was his uncle, aunt, and three cousins, who were all abusive to him.
Basically, his life at home already wasn't great.
I'll be honest, I pitied the guy.
Sure, I was a monster, but I wasn't heartless!
However, even after knowing all that, I couldn't just ask my buddies to stop tormenting him. That would make me look weak, especially after my girlfriend came advocating for him.
So, I did nothing. In my defense, I thought my friends would grow bored of him and leave him alone in a few days.
…They didn't.
The bullying worsened.
Lily pleaded for him many times, but I kept avoiding her. Until one day, she threatened to break up with me if I didn't stop hurting people.
She gave me an ultimatum.
Now, don't get me wrong, our relationship was totally superficial. She was a councilman's daughter and I was the son of a Duke. We were both elites, so we started dating.
There was nothing more to us. No love, no chemistry. I definitely didn't like her or anything.
...At first.
The truth is, after spending some time with her, I did start to like her presence. She was just so pretty, adorable, and her cute smile was absolutely infectious!
Honestly, just seeing her would make my day better. She was like a warm ray of sunshine in my cold, dark, empty void of a life. I enjoyed her company.
Obviously, that meant I didn't want to break up. Maybe she was also aware of that, that's why she used our relationship as leverage. So, I went to her class one evening to tell her that I would stop and try to be better.
But there...
There I saw something that devastated me. I saw Lily kissing that guy. The light of my life, the person I would have given everything to, kissing a weak, pathetic, miscreant!
Anger and jealousy—mostly anger—clouded my reasoning.
I jumped on that boy and started pummeling his face. Lily tried to stop me and pull me off him, but I kept punching until his countenance was a bloody mess.
After that, without a word, I got up and stormed out.
Lily followed me, explaining that she was only there to console him because one of my buddies had again beaten him up today. One thing led to another, and they ended up kissing.
I didn't care.
I ghosted her after that day. Didn't pick up any of her calls, neglected messages, and eventually blocked her from all my contacts.
As for that guy, well, I made his life even more of a living hell than it already was. Every day he would be brutally beaten, shoved in trash cans, and publicly humiliated.
If I could have killed him, I would have. But he was an orphaned son of martyrs. Killing him would have politically affected our clan.
So, I kept making his existence miserable.
That was… until yesterday – the last day of high school.
After the farewell party, we dragged him out to an abandoned alley behind the campus. We thought no one would hear his screams there. No one would come to his aid.
Well, spoiler alert – he wasn't the one who needed any aid yesterday.
As soon as we were alone, we started using him as our personal punching bag as usual. But in the midst of our beating, he… awakened.
There are rare cases of people awakening even after fourteen, but it was my first time seeing it in person. And his case was especially rare since he was awakening at seventeen!
Yes, there are late bloomers in the world… but not THIS late!
Did we give him so much trauma that he awakened so late in his life? Impossible!
But from the looks of it, that was exactly what happened.
Long story short, he materialized his Origin Card and started fighting back. We also used our powers, but two of my group members were easily taken out by him within the first few minutes.
It was then I realized that he hadn't awakened just then. No, he must've awakened weeks ago.
After all, no one could just awaken their powers and start using them as masterfully as he was doing it. In fact, it takes days to even understand one's Origin Card.
That's when it hit me.
This guy had been practicing in secret for weeks. Maybe he awakened the day I beat him half to death for kissing Lily. Or maybe even before that.
All this time, he had been training in secret, plotting his revenge.
And now, on the last day of high school, he decided to act.
It was an impeccable plan. With high school ending, he could apply to a Hunter's Academy the very next day. He would be beyond the reach of my clan's influence after that.
Basically, he could do anything, and no one would be able to punish him for it unless it was a really big crime. And beating us up could easily be chalked up to self-defense.
Why couldn't we hunt him down illegally?
Because no one, not even the Ducal Clans, could harm an applicant or a cadet of a Hunter's Academy. It was law, and the law was absolute.
On top of that, we had brought him to a secluded place. There was no one to come to our rescue now. Our simple plan had backfired spectacularly.
Frustrated, I used my own Origin Card and joined the battle.
Sure, that guy had awakened his powers! Sure, he had taken down a few of my powerful group members! And sure, he was strong!
But was he stronger than me?! Were his powers better than mine?! Did he surpass my SS-rank potential?!
...As I soon found out, yes. Yes to all.
He was indeed strong. No, he was more than that! He was an absolute monster—a ruthless fighting machine.
For the first time in my life, I lost to someone my age other than my twin sister in a fight—if that one-sided carnage by him could even be called a proper fight.
However, that isn't the important part!
You see, at the end of the fight, after taking a particularly brutal blow from him, I collapsed and hit my head on a pointy rock.
As soon as the rock struck the back of my skull... I remembered.
I remembered my past life as Noah. Twenty years of memories came flooding into my head in a flash, the sudden influx overloading my brain almost to the point of shutdown!
My eyes rolled back and my body went limp. I lost consciousness as memories of that other life rolled before my eyes like a reel.
And in that moment, I also remembered the game I was playing the day I died—Spirit Realm Chronicles.
Funnily enough, I had been reborn inside that very game.
And by a sheer twist of fate… that guy we had been bullying all this time was none other than the game's protagonist himself! He was Michael Godswill!
But then where did that leave me? Hah! If it wasn't clear already, let me spell it out—I am one of the game's minor, later turned major, villains.
And I was destined to die in all forty-one routes!
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