Chapter 1
A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the classroom as the teacher delivered the grim news. "Class... it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that Wansu, from Class B-1, has passed away. He was involved in a tragic road accident this morning." The teacher gestured toward a vacant desk. "That seat will remain empty from this day forward."
In the back, a group of bullies exchanged whispers, their faces devoid of any remorse. "Good riddance," one sneered, leaning toward his friends. "That ugly freak finally left the world on his own. Saved us the trouble of sending him to the afterlife ourselves and going to jail for it."
His friend grinned, a devilish spark in his eyes. "You're right. He was so hideous, no one could stand looking at him anyway. Guess our 'teasing' was just too much for his weak heart."
Suddenly, the rhythmic sound of tears hitting a notebook broke the silence. Vanika, the only girl who sat next to Wansu, was trembling, her tears soaking her notes. She was the only soul in the entire room who felt the weight of his absence.
One of the bullies leaned in, whispering harshly in her ear, "Why waste tears on that eyesore? Get a grip."
The teacher approached Vanika, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. He turned to the rest of the class, his voice cold with disappointment. "You all should be ashamed. I see smiling faces while only one student here mourns a lost life. How can your hearts be so made of stone?"
Unable to take it anymore, Vanika stood up and rushed out of the room without a word. The teacher, calling her name, followed close behind. Back in the classroom, a boy stood up and shouted, "Well, since the eyesore is gone for good, who's up for a party?" The room erupted in cheers, celebrating the death of their classmate.
Outside at the school gate, Vanika stood sobbing until the teacher caught up to her. "The world is running out of good people, Vanika," he said sadly. "And you are one of the few left."
Vanika turned to him, her eyes red. "He was so young... and I know those three bullies are the reason behind this. They never treated him like a human. Wansu bore their cruelty in silence. I wish I could have helped him."
"We have no proof, Vanika," the teacher sighed. "But if we find even a shred of evidence that their bullying led to his death, they will pay."
"You know what his only mistake was, Teacher?" Vanika said, her voice cracking. "He wasn't 'beautiful' by their standards. But in my eyes, he was the most beautiful person I knew. He never raised his voice, never hurt anyone. That was his sin—being too kind for this cruel world. I'm going to his parents' house to pay my respects, and I swear... I will get justice for Wansu."
Proud of her resolve, the teacher accompanied her. At Wansu's home, the atmosphere was hollow. His mother sat in a catatonic state, as if the light of her life had been extinguished. Vanika knelt beside her. "Aunty... Wansu will always live in our hearts. I know he is in Paradise now."
Meanwhile, in a sprawling, ancient forest littered with the aftermath of a brutal massacre, a young man's eyes flew open. He gasped, looking around at the sea of corpses. It looked like a war zone. This man was the Commander of an elite legion, fallen in battle—but the soul that now inhabited his body was Wansu's.
Wansu felt the weight of a heavy shield against his arm. His new body was riddled with deep, agonizing wounds. Panic surged through him. Where am I? Who killed these people? And why am I in the body of a grown man? I was only sixteen...
Fragments of his past life flashed before his eyes.
He remembered walking to school, intentionally taking the long way to avoid the bullies. He remembered looking at his reflection in the glass of a traffic signal. Is there no place for an 'ugly' man in society? he had wondered. If I were handsome, would they still hurt me? He had smiled sadly at his reflection. I am as God made me. He had stepped onto the zebra crossing as the light turned red. Then, a sudden screech of tires, a flash of metal, and then—nothingness.
Back in the forest, Wansu touched his face. He felt the scratchy stubble of a beard. "A beard? How?" he muttered.
The pain from his wounds became unbearable. He struggled to unstrap the heavy armor, but his strength failed him. He collapsed into unconsciousness.
When he woke again, his arms were bound above his head. He was being held captive. In front of him stood a crowd of warriors armed with primitive, jagged weapons. Wansu was lost, a boy in a commander's shell. "Let me go! Why am I tied up?"
A rival commander stepped forward, laughing mockingly. "Oh, look! The most powerful and beautiful commander in the world, Vekon Barhul, is afraid of death?"
He turned to his soldiers. "The crown jewel of the Beauty World—the commander of the enemy forces—is finally at our mercy. Once he is dead, our King will become the most beautiful man in existence!"
An archer spoke up, puzzled. "Commander, I hit his leg with a poisoned arrow. He should be dead. How is he still breathing?"
"This is Vekon Barhul," the rival leader sneered, drawing his sword. "A simple poison can only weaken him; it cannot kill him. But my blade will finish the job. Prepare to die, Vekon!"
Wansu listened, his heart racing. Beauty World? Vekon Barhul? None of it made sense. "Please! I'm not who you think I am! Just let me go!"
"Everyone says that when facing the blade," the commander laughed, raising his sword high.
Wansu squeezed his eyes shut, his heart hammering against his ribs. Am I really going to die again? So soon?