In a dimly lit room, dust lay thick in every corner, untouched and forgotten. The air was stale, heavy with neglect. In the darkest corner of the room, a boy named Sylas sat curled against the wall, his teeth clenched tightly as a brutal headache tore through his mind.
This pain came every month.
And every month, it grew worse.
His entire body trembled as if his very soul were being ripped apart. The agony spread from his head down to his limbs, burrowing into his bones, twisting his nerves, and crushing his chest. It felt as though something deep within him was splitting—no, tearing—as if he were never meant to contain what resided inside.
Yet, somehow, Sylas endured.
He had been suffering like this since birth.
Whenever the headache finally subsided, fragments of memories would surface in his mind—memories of a world he had never seen, places he had never walked, and experiences he had never lived. Faces he did not recognize. Voices that did not belong to anyone in this world.
For nine years, he had endured this torment.
Today was his ninth birthday.
But instead of relief or celebration, he was met with the most unbearable pain he had ever experienced. Each year, the agony intensified as his body grew, but today it reached a terrifying peak. It felt as though millions of needles were piercing his brain at once. His head throbbed violently, his thoughts splintering as if his mind were being shredded into pieces.
Sylas screamed silently, his voice trapped in his throat.
His vision blurred.
His body swayed as the pain overwhelmed him completely. For a fleeting moment, he felt certain—this is it… I'm going to die.
And then—
Darkness.
The pain stopped.
Sylas collapsed from the corner onto the thin mattress beside him, his body falling limply as consciousness abandoned him.
Five hours later, his consciousness slowly returned.
Sylas groaned softly and sat up on the mattress, his head still throbbing faintly. But something was different. The familiar chaos of fragmented memories did not scatter this time.
Instead, they resurfaced together.
And then—
They merged.
His breathing grew shallow as countless memories flooded his mind—not fragments anymore, but a complete life.
A previous life.
He finally understood.
He had been reincarnated into this world.
In his past life, he had lived in another world entirely. A modern world. He had been a successful businessman—sharp-minded, calculating, and highly intelligent. He knew countless schemes and tricks, understood human nature deeply, and excelled at using people to his advantage.
But in the end, all that intelligence had failed him.
He had been betrayed.
A close friend—someone he trusted more than anyone else—had stabbed him in the back and caused his death. The memory of that betrayal sent a cold shiver through Sylas's body.
Yet now, it seemed that fate—or perhaps God—had given him a second chance.
As his past memories settled, memories of his current life slowly surfaced.
When he was born into this world, both of his parents had died, leaving him an orphan from the very beginning. When his headaches first began—when he was only four months old—he cried endlessly and was taken to a hospital. The doctors, however, could find nothing wrong with him.
After experiencing the pain several more times, Sylas gradually isolated himself.
Even as a child, he rarely spoke. His mind worked unnaturally fast, and his memory was exceptional—he remembered every event, every word, every expression. For someone so young, he was frighteningly intelligent.
He lived in an orphanage located in District D-12 on the continent of Terravita.
Sylas ignored every child who tried to approach him. As a result, he had no friends. Over time, the others stopped trying.
His appearance was below average. His height was ordinary for his age, his body thin and slightly malnourished. His skin was tan, roughened by neglect. However, one thing stood out unmistakably—
His eyes.
The color of his pupils was a striking pure blue, as clear and deep as ocean water.
Sylas had never stepped outside the orphanage. He knew nothing about the outside world—its people, its systems, or its dangers. But one thing was now certain:
This was not the world he came from.
In his previous life, he had been deeply interested in literature and languages. He had learned several languages and possessed a basic understanding of many more. Yet he had never encountered this language before. He had also never heard of a continent called Terravita.
This confirmed it beyond doubt.
This was a completely different world.
Sylas clenched his fists, his blue eyes sharp despite his frail body.
If he wanted to survive this world—
He would have to learn everything from the beginning.
And this time…
He would never allow himself to be betrayed again.