January.The rain lashed the rooftops like a whip striking the back of a cornered beast. Narrow alleys were drowned in darkness, streetlights flickering as if gasping for their last breath.I was running. Fire burned in my chest, my lungs tearing apart from lack of air.Ahead— a shadow. A man. Staggering, but not stopping. Through the curtain of rain, I still saw him clearly: filthy, reeking, strands of wet hair clinging to his face.
My name is Kim Ji-Deon, and I am a killer.Thirteen lives. No mistakes. No innocents. Every one of them was a rapist, a murderer—scum who slipped through prison bars and court loopholes.Each murder I planned for weeks, calculated every step. I was surgical in my precision.
Until that night.Until that one mistake.
I was almost on him when he suddenly turned, grabbed a stone from the ground, and slammed it into my temple.Darkness.I collapsed face-first into the mud, rain choking my mouth and nose—I was suffocating. Dirty water mixed with blood soaked my collar. My limbs went limp, my body shutting down.
He laughed.Choked on his own cough, but still laughed.Breathing heavily, swaying, he turned his eyes to the girl behind us.
-...Dae-Soo? - I whispered, not believing she was really there.
My classmate.What the hell was she doing here - in this hell?
She stood frozen, paralyzed by fear, staring at me. Rain soaked her clothes, hair clinging to her face.Then he—the filthy bastard—noticed her. His eyes lit with sickening fire.
-Well, well... pretty thing... - he rasped, slowly unzipping his pants.
-No... no... - she whispered, trembling, backing away.
He lunged, tackled her to the mud, and grabbed her arms.She screamed, but no one came.This man—Yaro Si, 35 years old. Twice convicted of rape. Out again.
-Please! Stop! Don't do this! Someone — help me!-
Her voice shattered my skull like a hammer.I didn't think. I woke up.
With the last of my strength, I grabbed the same stone he used on me - and drove it into his skull.
Once.His body jerked.Twice.He staggered, choking.Three times.Blood splattered my face.Four. Five. Six.
I smashed the rock into his skull again and again, rage building like a storm.Soon his face was pulp, my hands dripping crimson. The rain no longer washed away the blood—it only highlighted it.
My breath was ragged. The stone slipped from my hand. I collapsed onto my back. Above me—the sky. Gray, endless, drowning in rain.
I heard Dae-Soo screaming, calling out to me, running closer... but I could no longer answer.My skull was cracked. The pain, once fire, now felt like warm fog. Strangely… comforting.
On this cold, merciless night…I felt peace.
I opened my eyes.
The light stabbed my pupils like white-hot iron, and I screamed — from pain, from terror, from sheer confusion. My chest heaved, my heart hammering so violently it felt like it would burst through my ribs.
My hands clawed at the bedsheets on their own, desperate for something solid to grasp. My body broke into such a sudden sweat that when the droplets met the cold air, they rose in wisps of steam.
I couldn't breathe. An invisible serpent coiled around my lungs. I… I was supposed to be dead, wasn't I?
Gasping, I forced myself upright, scanning the room.
It was… ordinary. High vaulted ceilings, heavy curtains with golden tassels, furniture worn and sparse.
This isn't a hospital. Not a morgue. Where the hell am I?
-I died… right? - I whispered, a chill slithering down my spine.
Then the door slammed open.
I flinched.
Strangers rushed in - people I didn't know, yet somehow knew too well.
My parents.
- Kim Hyeol?! - the woman shrieked. She lunged at me, crushing me in an embrace so tight it felt like fear—like she'd never let go again.
-My boy… I thought you'd never wake up… - Her voice trembled, eyes brimming with tears.
I froze. I couldn't move. My body felt numb, my emotions a void. Only terror. Only chaos.
Because she'd called me by name.
Because my heart ached with the certainty that these were my parents — But my mind, my memory, knew the truth:
My parents died six years ago.And these faces… weren't theirs.
The man approached the bed, checking my pulse, my pupils, the flow of something — magical meridians?
-You… awakened. - His voice was quiet, almost reverent. -You actually did it, son… Just like you dreamed. - A faint smile touched his lips.
His words hit me like both a revelation and a death sentence.
-He awakened? - My mother — no, the woman — repeated, staring at me in shock. Then — it happened.
A flash of pain.
My head exploded with memories.
Images flashed before my eyes at the speed of sound—my killings, precise and calculated; the screams of rapists begging for mercy; Dae-Su, standing in the mud, tears streaming down her nearly violated face, and my own, drenched in rain and blood...
And then — memories that weren't mine.
A school. A dungeon. People with supernatural abilities. Bullying. Pain. Suffering.
A fusion.
I screamed — hoarse, feral, with a pain beyond words: - GET OUT! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!
A surge of unknown power erupted from my body like pure desperation. The force wave sent my parents crashing to the floor. The room trembled. The curtains ignited with an eerie blue light, the walls shuddering. I stood there, barefoot on the bed, veins pulsing violently along my neck and arms.
My father—no, the man—exhaled sharply, gave me one last unreadable look, then turned and left without a word. The woman—my mother—scrambled up from the floor, tears of fear streaking her face, and fled the room, glancing back at me not with love, but with fear. Silence fell like a tombstone.
Then — Kim Ji-Deon's consciousness plunged into an ink-black void.
Before him, as if reflected in a nightmare's mirror, stood a trembling figure — face twisted in terror.
-Who… are you? -the boy rasped, his voice fraying like a thread clinging to reality. -I… I killed myself…
Ji-Deon's cold gaze speared through him. He took a step forward, and in the dim haze, the stranger's face came into focus. No — a familiar face.
-So you're Kim Hyeol,- Ji-Deon said, his voice flat, almost mechanical. - Funny. I died too. And yet—here I am.
Hyeol's eyes widened.
-I… I saw your memories. You—you're a murderer!-
-And you're no better. Just another rotten piece of trash like me, - Ji-Deon spat, each word dripping with icy venom.
He advanced slowly. Hyeol stumbled back, collapsing onto the void's floor, scrambling away in panic. When Ji-Deon loomed too close, Hyeol curled into a fetal ball, arms shielding his face.
- I don't want to merge with you, - Ji-Deon muttered, staring down at him like a judge passing sentence.
At that moment, Hyeol peeked through his fingers—and his heart seized.
The face above him was identical to those who had tormented him in school: black hair, dark eyes like bottomless pits.
Ji-Deon crouched, tilting his head, and whispered:
-From now on… this body is mine.-
The world shuddered. Cracks split the void like shattered glass. The darkness dissolved and then, with a sickening thud, Kim Ji-Deon's consciousness slammed back into reality.
He awoke in a cramped, peeling room. Two beds — one barely holding a mattress. Mold crept across the ceiling; the wallpaper curled like dead skin. This place was ten times worse than the apartment he'd had in his past life. Even the air felt dusty and exhausted.
He stood, stretched, and stepped into the hallway. A crumpled note lay on the wooden kitchen table—hurried but familiar handwriting:
-Son, you can skip school today. Mom's on night shift — won't be back till morning. Please don't use your awakened power until evening, no matter how it manifests. Leftover sushi in the fridge. Heat it up. Or make ramen if you want. We'll hit the fast-food place tonight. — Dad.-
Ji-Deon froze. His throat tightened around something warm, foreign — almost forgotten. For the first time in years, he smiled without realizing it.
The fridge was nearly empty. A few boxes, some rice, the promised sushi. But it didn't matter.
Their home now: two bedrooms (parents + shared with an older sister), a tiny kitchen with chipped tiles, an outdoor toilet like most families in Seoul's slums.
Yet despite the poverty, the cold, the peeling walls for the first time in years, Kim Ji-Deon felt alive.
He sat at the table where his new mother probably worked dawn to dusk, and realized he wasn't alone anymore. That faint, warm sensation… acceptance.
In his past life, his parents died at fourteen a drunk taxi driver's fault. His soul had frozen like an unheated house. But now? Even in this poorer world, he had a family.
He microwaved the sushi, ate in silence, savoring the mundane warmth.
Then his smartphone. Face ID unlocked it with his new face, new name, new life. Strange… yet already his.
News headlines flickered across the screen, reflected in his black eyes:
BREAKING: Awakened Population Spikes (+8.2% YoY)
[Ministry of Supernatural Affairs warns of uncontrolled D/E-class surges within 5 years.]
Dungeon Cleared in Gangnam — At What Cost?
[Rank-B hunter Lee Joo-Yeong (26) died during D-rank portal purge. Investigation ongoing.]
OPINION: Are Awakened Children Blessings or Weapons?
[Turning teens into soldiers is a crime.] — Prof. Kwon Hae-Jun
Guild Rankings Shakeup: Dark Blade Enters Top 5
[Former niche guild now rivals "Blue Moon" in national standings.]
Incheon Student Awakens During Bullying Incident
[Rare flame-type manifestation leaves 1 critical, 3 severely burned. Hunter Association "Alpha" dispatched.]
He scrolled, absorbing the brutal truth:
This world had superpowers. Dungeons. Guilds. The strong ruled; the weak vanished.
And now — he was part of it.
Ji-Deon set the phone down. The house fell silent again, save for the echo of his heartbeat.
He clenched his fist.
- In this life… I won't let anyone take my family from me again.