For a mont, Michael felt unbearable pain.
Then his life’s mories started playing inside his head.
He rembered how he had never seen his mother.
He rembered his drunk father—how he hit him for the strangest reasons.
The beer wasn’t cold enough. The TV isn’t working.
He rembered how his father made him leave school to work multiple jobs just to give all the money to him.
He rembered his shock and disbelief when his father decided to sell one of his kidneys to pay his debts.
And his happiness when his father one day took all the money in the house and finally left him alone.
For the first ti he felt... freedom!
He got kicked out of the house later because his father sold it too, but he didn’t care. He was free to do whatever he wanted.
Life was still hard on him, but even while starving on the streets, he still thought it was better than the life with his father.
At the age of 15, he t his first and only friend, Mark!
If Michael wanted to describe Mark’s personality in one word, it would be tsundere.
He may curse too much and insult Michael’s ancestors every ti he sees him, but Michael knew that he was kind on the inside.
When Mark was a kid, he had a problem with his heart, but his family didn’t have enough money for an operation.
Fortunately, there was a hospital that helped kids for free, and the doctor who did his operation beca his role model after that.
Mark dread of becoming a doctor like him so he could help the other children too. But unfortunately, he couldn’t complete his education.
His family died in an accident; he left school and started working in his father’s restaurant to support his little sister so she could have a good life and achieve her own dream.
And because of his face, he got multiple custors—most of them girls.
Unlike Michael’s "below average face", Mark’s features were a little handso which he used too well to attract people.
Michael’s friendship with Mark started when he went to the restaurant’s door asking for a job after his boss fired him.
When Mark saw his condition, he cursed instantly while wondering how that skinny boy didn’t die from starvation yet.
So he let Michael inside, fed him, gave him the job, taught him how to cook, let him sleep in the restaurant, and later, when he trusted him enough, invited him to his house.
Mark’s sister was the cutest creature Michael had seen in his life. She loved calling him "Uncle Michael" and sitting on his shoulders to pull his hair and control him like the rat film she’d seen on TV.
At the age of 18, Michael’s life changed completely.
Three thugs tried to rob him and Mark, but they underestimated him. He bent the hand of the thug who was pointing a gun at him and made him shoot himself. Then he took the gun and shot the remaining two thugs in the head.
It was his first ti using a gun, but he was able to shoot them perfectly in the middle of their heads.
It was his first ti killing people. It was his first ti seeing all that blood and real corpses—but unlike Mark, he didn’t even flinch or feel guilty.
When they pointed their guns at them, they should have expected death, right?
If they didn’t treat him like a human, then why should he?
They deserved their death.
After that, soone from the underworld knew about the incident and decided to invest in him. He introduced Michael to the underworld and taught him how to gather information and hide anything that could lead back to him.
And that’s how he started his job as a hitman.
He killed many people—from assassinating corrupt politicians to wiping out gangs.
As long as they were guilty and he was paid, the job could be considered done.
Of course, he didn’t forget to share his money with Mark, but Mark always refused to take it, knowing Michael risked his life every day to earn it. So in the end, Michael beca Mark’s favorite custor, who tried to find any excuse to pay extra "tips".
The strange part about all that was that Michael’s personality never changed after killing all those people. If soone tried to talk to him, they wouldn’t imagine that this man had killed more than 200 people in only three years.
Because he never considered them humans—just preys that didn’t deserve pity.
And now, at the age of 21, Michael Noir died in the apocalypse. Crashed under a big truck.
Leaving Mark and his sister alone in a world that would never be the sa again.
* * * * *
’ARGH! Who said the death isn’t painful? That was the worst experience in my entire life!’
I found myself in a tight, dark place. I couldn’t open my eyes or move my body.
’Is that death? I won’t go to hell, right? I’m sure I didn’t kill any innocent person, and I didn’t torture them much. I did my best to kill them without pain.’
I thought for a mont.
’Well, except for so special cases. Like the man who raped my custor’s daughter and wife. I tried to give him a fast death, but maybe because it was cold, my hands were shaking too much. I kept shooting him in random places—like his balls—by "mistake".’
I thought about my life for a mont.
’Well, it wasn’t the perfect life, but at least I have no regrets. I’m sure that Mark was saved. I just hope he survives.’
When I started my job, I always considered that I might die anyti, so I made sure everything I owned would legally belong to Mark if I died.
Well, that’s if those things still matter in the apocalypse.
’Anyway, what should I do now? I’m sure I won’t stay like this forever.’
Just then, I felt a strong push.
I started panicking.
’Huh? What was that?’
After a mont, I finally felt the light and the cold air touching my skin.
A sharp pain hit , and I started crying.
’Waaa! Why is soone slapping !?’
’Wait, why am I even crying? I’m an adult!!’
I felt like there was a second person inside my head. It was a strange feeling I couldn’t describe.
Just then, I felt that I could finally open my eyes—And I regretted opening them instantly.
’Is... is that a TITAN!?’
Holding was a huge old woman. She had long green hair, white skin, beautiful green eyes, and... pointed ears?
Behind her was another woman who looked similar but much younger. Her face reflected pain, but despite it, she looked at happily.
They were saying sothing, but I couldn’t understand a single word.
"Tkhayl kalam omhat. La ttrgm "
I tried to see my surrounding.
’Oh my ! ’
I was amazed by what I saw.
I was in a big, wide room. The style was a mix of dieval and modern—there was electricity and all, but the furniture and the decor looked like sothing from a historical film.
The younger woman suddenly raised her hands, and a warm green light coiled around us.
The pain I was feeling disappeared instantly, and her expression softened.
’Waah, that feels so good. I want more of the light!’
’Shut up! Sothing wrong happening with . These can’t be my thoughts. And how is this woman producing green light from her hands!?’
I suddenly started feeling déjà vu.
A tight, dark place.
Huge people around .
A woman who makes light that stops pain.
Pointed ears.
dieval style.
Then I looked at my body and realized the problem.
’Oh, so they aren’t big... I’m just too small.’
Then I rembered exactly how I died—a truck was thrown at !
As a novels reader. Only one explaination appeared in my mind .
’Was the truck thing real? Did I reincarnate in another world?’
The truck didn’t hit on the road. I was sure sothing threw it! But a truck was still a truck .
’Fuck that. I’ve seen too many dark novels and played many Souls gas.’
So people may be dreaming about reincarnation. But i wasn’t one of them.
What if I reincarnated into a dood novel where most of the humanity would die ? What if I reincarnated into a ga where I play as the victim ?
There were just many possibilities.
I had to know if this was really the world of a novel, a ga, or just a random world.
It may even be the sa world but in the future—an apocalypse had started, after all. My current situation was weird already, so I had to expect anything.
I had to know anything that could help —like the world’s na, the power system, or even a famous character’s na.
’ I’ll try to learn the world’s language from this wom—I an, my mother sohow and try to gather any information about this world. There are also those fucking childish thoughts that appear randomly in my mind. Am I possessed, or is it the opposite? ’
I felt a little hungry. I didn’t know what I was supposed to eat now.
Then the older woman handed to my mother.
She looked at warmly, but I saw a hint of sadness in her eyes that disappeared imdiately.
She started unbuttoning her shirt.
’Oh, don’t tell .’
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