In a nearby county, on a beautiful night, sothing strange was happening to the third son of Tarkus Lantches.
"What the hell is happening to my body? So bitch definitely poisoned ."
Dizziness hit him like a wave as he stumbled, trying to grab onto sothing—anything—to stay upright. But his hands failed him, knocking over everything nearby. He collapsed, overwheld by pain, dying with a contorted grimace of hatred, as if his very soul refused to give up.
Seconds passed.
The body stirred. His expression softened, his breathing resud. He sat up abruptly, like soone waking from a nightmare.
"NOT THE FACE!"
He yelled, shielding his head with his arms, as if bracing for sothing that never ca. After a few seconds of waiting, he uncovered his face and looked around, confused by the unfamiliar ss of the room.
Still frozen in shock, a transparent window appeared in front of him.
[Congratulations! You have been reincarnated into another world.]
Only that. Sitting on the floor, he looked visibly confused and questioned the floating window.
"What the hell does that even an?"
The system blinked and showed sothing new.
[The system believes you have potential, but since your host died too quickly, leaving no room for personal developnt, I reincarnated you into the last you read.]
"Huh?"
Now completely confused and curious about his surroundings, he asked, "What is this?"
The system blinked again.
[It’s called Worlds in Conflict.]
Like a bolt of lightning to the brain. He rembered it—a story where the protagonist was more of a villain than a hero.
"Shit, it had to be that one... I only read the first few Chapters and already knew the MC was insane."
Realizing the situation was real, the boy stood up and headed to the mirror. His reflection showed a good-looking boy with blond hair and blue eyes, maybe sixteen years old, wearing pajamas with sothing embroidered on it: Darui Lantches.
The surna Lantches hit him like a punch to the gut.
"Fuck, it had to be that na... The protagonist’s first target—Duchy of Lantches, ruled by Tarkus."
Panicking, still staring at the mirror, he clenched his fists. He had to stay strong. No matter what. I’ll survive this. I won’t waste this second chance.
----------------
anwhile, in a calm room bathed in deep purples, a white-skinned creature lay on a massive bed.
Why can’t I sleep? Is it because of my race or sothing?
Sitting up, I looked at the wall. Maybe I should just write down what I know about the island... or read a book.
Getting up and heading toward the desk isolated in the corner, I suddenly had an idea. Why don’t I check how my system actually works?
With that in mind, I stopped midway and sat on the couch instead.
Now seated, I summoned a transparent window in front of .
Looking at it more closely, I noticed four icons on the side.
The first looked like this: . Opening it showed a space to type sothing, but how exactly to use it was still a mystery.
The second icon was a folded piece of paper with scribbles. That one listed pre-written scripts.
The third was a tiny island. Opening that one showed a map of the island, with a list below that seed to show all its inhabitants.
The fourth was a bag icon. Obvious enough. My inventory.
Looking inside the inventory...
Dear god, there’s so much crap in here, I can’t even tell what’s what.
Above was a small search bar.
Just thinking about it selected the search bar and a keyboard appeared out of nowhere.
What the hell is this? It wants to type in the air? Embarrassing.
Making a ntal note to find a way to hide this thing if I ever use it in front of soone else, I started typing.
’Scythe’
A bunch of results popped up, but one in particular stood out.
There it is. My old weapon. Though I used it more for walking than fighting...
Its na flashed in my mind. ’Scythe of Reality’. What appeared was a scythe with a black handle, and at the top, the fangs of the Reality Devourer. The base of the blade was white, with two sharp glowing pink fangs forming its tip.
Before it could hit the ground, I caught it. A wave of energy surged through before stabilizing.
This is incredible. If this thing still works the way it’s supposed to, it might be the most broken item that exists.
After admiring it for a mont, I tossed it back into the inventory.
Now, let’s check that island icon.
Opening it revealed a ton of stuff—residents, status reports, island controls.
I frowned. "Island controls?"
Curiously clicking on it, I was t with a new window:
Floating island: False
Island direction: Idle
Barrier: False
Ergency state: False
Island gates: 0
Desert containnt field: True
Artificial sun: True
[...]
Yeah. Got it. Basically, it’s the command center.
I made the island float—causing a small tremor. Then activated the barrier and turned off the artificial sun. No need for it anymore.
Once that was handled, I opened the ’status’ tab.
Another flood of data appeared:
Overall island status: GOOD
Energy state: 99.9%
Area 1 status: GOOD
Area 2 status: GOOD
Area 3 status: GOOD
Area 4 status: GOOD
Island treasury: 0 coins of any type
Energy generation status: GOOD
[...]
What the hell? I never made this screen. And I’m broke? Zero coins... seriously?
I let out a heavy sigh. That confird it. We’re broke.
Tilting my head back, I sank deeper into the couch. If we’ve got no money, how is anything running? I saw the stalls were automated—so where’s the food coming from?
Thinking about it gave a headache, so I left that for future to solve.
I’m satisfied with this little skill test, honestly. What’s bothering is... my emotions.
I raised my hands just enough to see them. Can I still feel like I used to? To so extent, sure. But those feelings I had when I saw other humans... they didn’t feel like mine.
Clenching, then slowly releasing my fists, I stared at the ceiling.
Guess I’ll just read sothing to pass the ti.
Getting up, I walked to the shelf and grabbed a book titled "Social Skills for the Awkward".
The hell is this? Did I really save this?
Curious, I opened it and skimd through. It seed kinda interesting. I sat down and started reading, letting the night pass by.
----------
Morning ca with the sound of tal boots pounding down the hallway. A knight burst through the double doors, startling everyone eating at the table.
Tarkus, black-haired with sharp blue eyes, glared at him.
"What do you think you’re doing, interrupting my breakfast?"
The knight dropped to one knee. "Forgive , my lord. But this is urgent. Refugees from a nearby village claim they saw a massive island appear out of nowhere... with multiple dragons flying out of it."
Everyone froze. Only one person reacted.
Tarkus turned his eyes to his son. "Darui, is sothing wrong?"
Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he replied, "N-no, just... that sounds kinda absurd."
Tarkus stared at him silently, then turned back to the knight.
"Prepare a team. I’ll lead it. If this turns out to be a lie, we’ll kill every last one of those liars."
The knight nodded and exited the room.
The silence that followed was broken by Darui.
"Are you sure about this, father?"
Tarkus answered coldly. "If I weren’t, I wouldn’t have opened my mouth."
He stood up and walked away.
As he left, Darui’s two brothers started laughing, while a beautiful blonde woman simply kept eating.
Ignoring them, Darui chased after his father. "Wait, father."
Tarkus, a bit surprised at the persistence, stopped. "Speak."
Darui hesitated, thoughts racing. If he captures that crazy woman, we’re screwed.
Sweating, he asked, "Can I go with you?"
The man raised an eyebrow. "You? Are you serious?"
After a few seconds, Tarkus smirked. "Fine. Maybe it’s ti you left the nest. Be ready. We leave soon."
And with that, he walked off.
Darui felt a small relief. That’s it. Maybe I can stop everything from going to hell.
The mont was ruined as two boys appeared—Mark and Lukas.
Lukas, the shorter one, mocked, "Oh look, the failure finally wants to do sothing."
Mark, arms crossed, added, "Failure? More like walking trash."
Darui ignored them and walked toward his room, hearing them click their tongues behind him.
I need to pack. I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do to stop this ss, Darui thought, clenching his fists.
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