Rain sat in silence, staring at the red numbers bleeding across the monitor.-23.8%-34.2%-41.5%
Each crash in value felt like a knife drawn slowly across his chest — not because of the money, but the inevitability. His life's work — 30 years of sweat, precision, restraint — was being bled out in front of him like a cornered animal.
On the desk before him sat a single manila envelope. Inside were offers from Vortex International, a ruthless American conglomerate that had swallowed three Japanese biotech firms this year alone. Their target now? RainCorp Biotech — and more specifically, Project Nyx, the crown jewel Rain had spent half his life refining.
Rain had said no. Firmly. Quietly. Respectfully.
Apparently, Vortex didn't take kindly to "no."
Flashbacks flashed like bullets:
Friends he'd trusted resigning en masse.
Investors pulling out overnight.
Coordinated media slander campaigns.
Government inspections. False allegations.
His lawyers were overwhelmed. His CFO betrayed him. His technology was suddenly being "independently rediscovered" by competitors.
"They didn't kill me," Rain muttered, voice low and dry, "they erased me."
It had been 33 years since he last tasted alcohol.He had promised his mother on her deathbed, after a car crash killed his younger sister — a crash caused by a drunk driver.
Rain had never broken that promise. Until now.
The whiskey burned like acid. He didn't even care.
He finished the bottle, staggered back into his office chair, and laughed for the first time in weeks. It was a bitter, hollow sound.
"I was smart… I was careful… and it still wasn't enough.""This world only respects monsters."
✦
He awoke to a world of white silk sheets, soft morning light, and the gentle chirping of birds. A ceiling he didn't recognize. A body… much smaller.
Rain blinked.
Everything was wrong.
His hands — soft. Young. His reflection in the mirror — teenaged. Japanese. Handsome in an aristocratic way. The scent of wealth lingered in the air: fresh cologne, fine polish, imported wood.
A knock came on the door.
"Young Master Rain, breakfast is ready. Your parents are waiting."
Reincarnated.There was no panic. Just a sharp silence, a mental shift.
Rain had faced billion-dollar lawsuits without blinking. This? This was strange, but he was used to strange. He observed. Calculated.
Within a week, he had mapped out the new world.Within a month, he knew his family was filthy rich — politicians, powerbrokers, pharmaceutical empires.Within three, he blended in so well even his new parents joked he was "born to rule."
And for the first time in years… he almost felt peace.
Until it came.
The night of his fifteenth birthday. Moon high. House quiet.
And then — blood. Screams. Fire.
A devil — cloaked in shadows, horns glinting like obsidian. A contract killer, sent by a rival family or perhaps a test by higher forces.
Rain remembered it all. His father shielding him. His mother crying out. The butler disintegrated by black flames.
And then — salvation. Blue light. Wings. Fallen Angels.
They arrived like wraiths. One moment the devil was there, the next he was ash and dust. Rain was saved.
Later he learned the truth. His family had funded a secret fallen angel research faction — a splinter group known as The Black Vault. In exchange for financing forbidden studies, they had earned a silent guardian pact.
"They watched from the shadows," Rain whispered, "but never interfered. Until now."
The devil's death was not the end.
It was the beginning.
In the weeks that followed, Rain began to dig.
He paid off a black-market hacker to access Vatican archives.
He bribed a Japanese monk with ancient relics.
He read stories. Investigated local disappearances. Found whispers of angels. Devils. Dragons.
The world was layered.What humans saw was a lie.And Rain — reborn, resourced, and wrathful — would tear that veil apart.
Not for justice.
Not for revenge.
But for power.
He stood on the rooftop one evening, watching the city below.
"In my last life, I lost everything because I played by human rules."
"This time…"
"…I'll play by none."