Chapter 2- a new life
The double doors creaked open, sunlight spilling across the marble floor like warm gold.
And in she came.
The Duchess. Sylvia White.
Her gown swept the floor in violet silk, each fold catching the light. Her hair, like melted amethyst, framed her face in soft curls. Crimson eyes, sharp and bright, locked onto him.
"…Mother," Lionel said, bowing slightly.
Perfect. Gorgeous. And I'm definitely adopted. Universe, thanks for reminding me I peaked in genetics and terrible timing.
"My son… you've returned to me," she said, voice trembling. "I… I was so worried. You've been… missing. Two weeks gone after that… that pond incident. I feared the worst."
Returned? Lady, I didn't even know I left. Two weeks? Really? Universe, you could have at least sent a message.
A sudden, sharp pain hit his skull. Memories rushed in: orphanage halls, lonely meals on chipped plates, nights staring at ceilings he didn't belong under. Faces blurred. Breath came shallow. A lonely child drifting from orphanage to orphanage, barely seen, barely cared for. Jobs, errands, survival… just existing.
And then her. Sylvia White. The Duchess who had reached out and pulled him from that emptiness. She called him her son, gave him warmth, gave him a home.
He gasped, sweat clinging to his skin as the pain faded, leaving him trembling but upright.
"Lionel…" she said, reaching for him.
The name froze him. Every universe, it was Lionel again.
Really? Lionel again? Fate ran out of creativity? Discount brand, huh?
He bowed politely. "Mother."
Inside, his mind spun. Past me would've died from shame. Welcome to bargain-bin villainy, Lionel. Your performance? Abysmal.
Sylvia embraced him. "You are safe now. I will never let you be taken from me again. Two weeks… I didn't know if you'd wake. My heart…"
He stiffened, then let a grin creep across his face. Safe, huh? Looks like I'm going to have to fight fate itself. And maybe look fabulous while I do it.
He glanced at the mirror: silver hair shining like moonlight, crimson eyes bright, pale skin flawless.
Damn… if I weren't me, I'd kiss me. Past Lionel? You died in a hospital bed, coughing blood, regretting every wasted moment. Now? A huge bed, a mother who could crush armies, and a face worth painting. Universe, well done. Seriously, take a bow.
"…Great. I finally get a face worth keeping alive. Guess I don't get to die ugly this time."
He straightened, crimson eyes glittering. I've been given a second chance. I'll live on my terms. Not theirs. Not fate's. Mine. And if anyone tries to stop me, I'll smirk in their face until they cry.
Sylvia stepped back. "You've grown… so strong, Lionel. Even after being unconscious for two weeks… I feared it might leave… consequences."
He raised an eyebrow. But internally "Strong? Lady, I've been dead and back and it hasn't been five minutes. But if you're complimenting my face, I'll allow it."
Look at me. Red eyes, silver hair, flawless skin… ready to challenge destiny itself. Past Lionel? You died empty. Now? Power, presence, luxury. Fate, you are cruel and hilarious at the same time.
She brushed a strand of hair from his face. "You must rest. Regain your health before lessons start again , or if you want i could cancel them"
He waved her off with flair. Rest? I don't do rest anymore. But I do need to see how much I can wreck this world before breakfast. And maybe make a few noble brats cry while I'm at it. But really he just said "okay mother I'll rest"
Memories came in fragments, then formed a full picture.
This wasn't just his body. This was a character.
Lionel White—the only son of Duchess Sylvia White. Born sickly, frail, desperate for attention. Spoiled, entitled, loud. A brat wrapped in silk and arrogance, so insecure he burned with jealousy.
Especially toward him.
The Velmore heir. Son of the rival Dukedom. Prodigy at everything. Golden child. Loved by nobles, adored by commoners.the cliche main character obviously.
And Lionel White? Not the rival. Not the hero. The villainous extra. A stepping stone. The brat who threw tantrums, picked fights he couldn't win, and died in obscurity. Pathetic.
Lionel barked a bitter laugh. So I died coughing blood in a hospital, only to reincarnate as this guy? Knockoff villain flattened by the plot. Upgrade? Sure. Prestige? None. I'm basically the tutorial boss nobody remembers. Stellar luck.
And he remembered what came after.
When Lionel White died, Sylvia White didn't bow her head. She burned the Academy. Dragged noble brats who mocked her son by their hair. Demanded vengeance. And when the Academy resisted, she tore down their halls with her magic.
The other Dukes couldn't allow it. Together, they crushed her rebellion. Sylvia White—the Violet Duchess, Crimson-Eyed Lioness of Eldora—was executed for loving her son too much.
His grin twisted darkly. Even in death, I managed to screw up. Died like trash, dragged my mother down with me. Bravo, Lionel. Past me? A disappointment. Present me? Fabulous. Slightly murderous. Definitely fabulous.
He turned to the maid, kneeling nearby. Hands trembling.
"You," he said, voice sharp. "What day is it?"
The maid blinked. "M-My Lord, twelfth day of the Summer Moon, year 678 of the Imperial Calendar. Your awakening ceremony is in a week."
678 Imperial Calendar. Not that it matters—by 710, the human continent burns. Great War. Dwarves, elves, beastmen, demons… all rolling in to crush humanity while we squabble over exams and titles. Past me? Enjoy your week before talent tests. Then the world dies. I'll be fabulous anyway.
Lionel chuckled low. Plot train leaving the station. Day I prove useless, start career as glorified punching bag. Lovely , Universe, thanks for the comedy.
He ran fingers through silver hair, crimson eyes in the mirror. Lips curled into a smirk. Not this time. If I'm the villainous extra, I'll rewrite the script. When fate rolls credits—hah!—I'll hold the pen.
Then—
DING.
A sharp metallic bell echoed in his skull. Breath caught.
A cold, mechanical voice followed, without gender:
> [Infinite Harem and Evolution System Activated.]
Lionel blinked, then laughed, sharp and echoing.
Oh, now this is getting stupid. Cancer in one life, cannon fodder in the next, and now a pervert robot living in my head. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
But beneath the laughter, his crimson eyes burned.
Because stupid or not, this was power.
His gaze returned to the mirror, crimson eyes meeting crimson eyes, silver hair falling like a halo around his pale face.
And Lionel's grin sharpened.
This life was already a joke.
And he intended to be the one laughing at the punchline .