Somewhere between science and myth, there exists a theory—buried in lost journals and dismissed by modern researchers—that our world isn't singular. That reality isn't fixed.
Ancient philosophers spoke in riddles, and certain physicists whispered of Inverted Realities—twin dimensions layered upon each other, where the same people live out different fates. In one, a man is a beggar; in the other, a king. One weeps alone, while his mirror dances in joy.
Most dismissed it as fantasy.
But this story isn't about the theory.It's about the boy who unknowingly became its proof—Gon Hayashi.The only one who has ever seen both sides of the same life.
In District 11, the air was heavy with pollution and decay. Flickering neon signs fought for life amidst the crumbling buildings. Gon Hayashi, a 17-year-old with torn shoes and calloused hands, dragged himself home after a twelve-hour shift.
His schoolbag was ripped. His uniform, stained with oil from the ramen shop.
But clutched in his hand was the most important thing—his mother's medicine.
"Gon!" a soft voice called from within the dim apartment. "Did you eat?"
"I'm fine, Mom," he said with a tired smile, setting the bag down beside his mother's futon. "I brought your pills."
Yuki Hayashi, his mother, coughed weakly. Her skin was pale, her frame fragile. She tried to sit up, but Gon gently pushed her back down.
His father, Hotaru Hayashi, sat nearby, trying to hide the despair in his eyes. Jobless and ashamed, he often stared at his hands like they were useless.
Yet despite the struggle, love filled the cracks in their broken home.
They had very little.
But Gon still believed they had everything that mattered.
On the other side of the city, a very different Gon Hayashi adjusted his cufflinks in front of a towering mirror. A high-end wristwatch gleamed on his wrist. His expression was blank. Almost robotic.
He was the CEO of Hayashi Dynamics, a billion-dollar tech empire built not on inheritance—but vengeance.
Unlike most who were born into wealth, this Gon clawed his way to the top.
His biological parents—rich, powerful, and corrupt—had used him as a pawn in financial scams during his childhood. When he was 12, they framed him for a cybercrime. When he refused to cooperate, they tried to have him silenced.
He never forgot.
At 14, he ran away. By 18, he'd built a company from nothing. By 20, he'd become a corporate juggernaut.
And then, he made his move.
He handed over all the proof. And his parents—once respected elites—were dragged away in handcuffs, screaming his name. They had betrayed him.
He made sure the world knew it.
But in winning, something else shattered inside him.
He stopped trusting people.Stopped smiling.Stopped caring.
"Sir, your schedule for today…" his assistant began.
He ignored her. Walked past polished glass walls. Entered the elevator alone.
Luxury meant nothing when you had no one to share it with.
His penthouse was filled with silent servants, smart tech, and art he didn't care about. His meals were planned. His workouts monitored. His enemies crushed.
And yet… he felt like the poorest man alive.
He opened the door to his room and stared into the mirror.
"Everything," he muttered. "And nothing."
Midnight.
In both worlds, the Gons lay down—tired, broken in different ways.
One on a paper-thin futon. The other on a temperature-controlled mattress.
Both whispered the same wish.
"I wish I could be someone else… just for a day."
A strange rumble filled the night.The walls didn't shake—but the world did.A frequency passed through the air, bending light and space.Time held its breath.
Then: blackness.
Morning.
Poor Gon sat up to find himself surrounded by silk sheets and chrome walls. His jaw dropped. The room looked like it belonged in a movie. When he reached the mirror, his heart froze.
It was him. Same face. Same body.But… not his world.
"Young master Gon," a voice called from beyond the door. "Your bath is drawn."
He stumbled back, chest heaving.
What kind of dream was this?
Meanwhile, rich Gon awoke on a thin mattress in a room that smelled of steamed rice and detergent. He frowned.
"Gon?" a gentle voice said.He turned—and froze.
A woman, pale but smiling. Her hand on his forehead.
"Are you okay, sweetie?"
He stared. "Who... are you?"
"I'm Yuki. Your mom, remember?"
She coughed, then grinned warmly.
"We were worried. You had a bad fever last night."
Hotaru entered next, holding a bowl of porridge. "Easy there, kid. Take your time."
He didn't respond. Couldn't.
This—this wasn't a dream. It was something else.
Yet as they looked at him with pure, unconditional love, something inside him cracked.
He had never been called "sweetie" before. Never had porridge made just for him. Never been loved without reason or motive.
He didn't know whether to cry or scream.
So he just nodded.
And for the first time in years—he let someone else take care of him.
One week passed.
The rich Gon in the slums learned how to ride a rusted bicycle, wash clothes by hand, and sleep without air conditioning. But in return, he learned what it meant to be human. What it meant to laugh at nothing. To protect someone not for business—but for love.
He started walking a neighbor's dog. Helped kids with homework. He even fixed a leaking pipe in the hallway.
He was... changing.
Meanwhile, the poor Gon—now in the rich world—struggled at first. He didn't know how to behave at meetings. Messed up in front of investors. Embarrassed himself.
But he learned. Fast.
He watched tutorials. Took notes. Read late into the night.
In a week, he was already making decisions better than the old board.
Not because he was smarter—but because he understood value.He'd lived with nothing.So he treated people like they mattered.
And people noticed.
Then, it happened.
Midnight.
Both Gons fell asleep.
But they didn't switch back.
They woke up in the same dream.An endless black void.
And across from each stood... himself.
Identical face. Identical age.But different eyes.Different aura.
They stared.
And then, in perfect unison, whispered the same word:
"You…"
NOTE
This novel have post on pocket novel and webnovel both place by Unkonw Blank the novel write
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