Fair play doesn't pertain in bargaining,
what matters there is leverage.
.....
Two people were watching the scene unfold like it was some kind of courtroom drama.
One was a smirking kid, unfazed and almost entertained.
The other one was the real Lynn who stood devastated, watching the scene before him like a punch to the gut.
The kid didn't drop his smirk, even now.
"Hey, Lynn. What're you so sad about? You don't have to feel bad about what he said, right?"
"Don't have to feel bad?"
Lynn snapped, his voice cracking. "That's my father, you damn kid."
He took a step forward, fists clenched. "You wouldn't understand a damn thing."
"Ohh, harsh," the kid replied, unfazed. "Sorry I touched a nerve.
But we're just watching it, right?
We can do literally nothing about your dad's mouth,unless our friend on the other side decides to step in."
"I understand your sentiments,Mr. Real Lynn" the kid said, still smirking.
"But me,who has the memory of how a real parenting feels like, won't be shaken by the some half-assed empty words like the ones your father just spewed."
He leaned back, arms crossed.
"Besides, you're the one who said you needed to find out who was truly genuine to you from the beginning. Remember?"
Lynn let out a bitter breath.
"I guess I'm the one to blame... The fact that I'm just trapped in the mind of someone who's supposed to be me.
it's a clear sign that fate isn't done screwing with me yet."
"Can you quit the self-trash talk?
The whole point of us watching this live drama is to figure out exactly how this 'fate' thing keeps messing with you."
"Huh… what? Say that again…?"
Lynn blinked.
He was more shocked than he cared to admit.
The kid gave a dramatic sigh.
"Oh God… Even if you're someone who's lived two lives, you're just a kid in the end, I guess.
You have no real-life experiences of getting your ass handed to you with just lip work on hourly basis."
He grinned, patting Lynn on the back in a mockingly sympathetic way.
"Relax. The one taking verbal hits on your behalf is pretty good at handling this kind of situation, so don't worry too much, kid."
Lynn stiffened at the gesture, clearly disturbed by the kid's roundabout way of talking.
"Can you stop with the cryptic speech and just say things clearly for once?
How am I supposed to know whether that guy is capable or not."
The kid snorted, amused by Lynn's outburst.
"Clearly for once? Sure.
Here it is,your old man's words sting because deep down, you're still hoping he's wrong about you.
It's not in your hands anymore,
so just let it be.
You need to learn the universal fact that you can't control everything,Lynn
Basically it's impossible to change someone's perception of you,forcefully."
He leaned in, smirk widening.
"But don't worry.Denial's a stage of progress too, Mr. Real Lynn."
Then he flopped back, hands behind his head like he was watching a sitcom.
"Now hush.The show's getting to the juicy part."
Lynn's jaw clenched as he stared at the scene unfolding his father. And the other Lynn… standing there, silent, unaware of the weight of each word. Unaware of what they truly meant.
Lynn's thoughts itched in the back of his mind.
"That's not how you answer him…
Don't just stand there. Say something.
Push back. Anything."
But he stayed quiet. There was no point. He wasn't the one in control,not anymore. He was just a shadow watching someone else wear his skin.
The kid glanced at him, eyes sharper now.
"You're getting fidgety."
Lynn didn't look at him.
"I'm not desperate" he muttered.
"I know I'm dead. I'm just… tired of watching someone else get it all wrong."
The kid raised an eyebrow.
"Then stop reacting and start observing. Watch him, really watch him. Maybe then you'll get what your so-called fate is trying to accomplish."
Lynn exhaled, low and controlled, but the tension never left his shoulders.
He didn't reply.
He just kept watching.
....
I stood still in the middle of the Blake family's hall, awkwardly planted like a misplaced piece of furniture. The walls were tall, the silence taller.
All eyes were on me or at least, they had been before they started pretending they weren't.
Directly in front of me stood Dawn Blake.
The father of this body.
And what a lovely, emotionally unavailable specimen of fatherhood he was.
Strangely, I felt a twinge of gratitude toward him. Not because he was warm or caring,he clearly wasn't.
But because his neglect had somehow cleared the stage for me to step into this life. If he'd paid even a little more attention to his son, I wouldn't be here, hijacking someone else's body and family drama.
So… thanks, I guess?
Still, whether this bizarre reality was a dream, a simulation, or the universe's worst joke,I didn't care. I wasn't here to solve philosophical mysteries.
I wanted peace. My peace.
And that required settling some unfinished business.
I scanned the room. Lore was here Lynn's sister. She sat stiffly in a corner chair, eyes rimmed red like she'd either been crying or lost a boxing match with her mascara.
She glanced up. We locked eyes.
She looked away.
Right. Probably hates me.
The other people in the room blurred together: cautious glances, hushed whispers. Like a court waiting to see if the accused would crack.
I didn't care about any of them.
Their opinions, their fates none of it mattered. But I had made a promise to the real Lynn, somewhere in that strange, fragmented space where we crossed paths. I would do less damage than necessary.
Because, even if it doesn't last, having people who care even if poorly—l is still better than walking through life invisible.
When you're truly alone, truly forgotten that's when you vanish from the world entirely. I know that too well. My last life taught me that lesson with brutal clarity.
I took a deep breath and finally turned my full attention to the man who still hadn't faced me,Dawn Blake. He stood with his back to me, arms crossed, posture like a weathered statue.
Alright then.
Time to light this match.
"Hey… Dad."
The word felt strange in my mouth.
Like trying to chew a rock.
"Hear me out or you might regret it later."
The room twitched. Someone in the back gasped. The air snapped from tense silence to sharp discomfort. Even the walls seemed to flinch.
Dawn didn't turn around.
"Regret?" he muttered, voice like gravel. "I've been regretting things since the moment I laid eyes on you, son."
Oof. Okay.
"Cool. Same warm vibes as always, I see," I replied. "Listen I don't know what our relationship used to be like, or if we ever had one. I'm not going to pretend to remember something I don't. But I'll call you 'father'... not because you are, but because you still call me son. That seems fair."
That made him turn.
He looked at me then.Like he was trying to find the ghost of the boy he once knew inside my eyes.
Sorry, old man. That kid left the building.
"I don't know anyone in this room,"
I continued. "Not their names. Not their stories. And frankly, not their opinion of me. But I care about where I stand. And I want that to be clear."
Lore flinched.Her hand curled into a fist.
"I don't remember the mistakes i made. But I have a feeling I've already been punished for them," I said.
"Being called a killer… it disturbs me. And whether it's true or not,I want to know the truth. If it turns out I am the villain in this story, I'll remove myself from your lives. No drama.
No goodbye. But if it turns out otherwise…"
Dawn scoffed and cut me off.
"Otherwise.....?
You're sounding awfully bold for someone who's clearly had their brains scrambled. Maybe I should've given you that divine smack in the head a long time ago."
Laughter erupted from some of the room. The type of laugh that people give when they're not sure if something's actually funny, but they want to be on the winning team.
I let the laughter pass.
Dawn meant his words. He wasn't joking.
His presence was like standing near a sleeping bear too dangerous to prod, but too important to ignore.
I met his stare with just honesty.
"I'm not the son you wanted,I get that.But I'm the one you've got now."
He didn't say anything. Just stared.
Lore looked like she wanted to say something but couldn't.
"It's true," Dawn said, his voice hollowed by years of bitterness,
"I wanted my third child to rise above the rest to become the pinnacle of the Blake name. But that dream…"
He exhaled sharply.
"That dream devoured everything."
He didn't look at me. He wasn't talking to me. He was talking to the ghost of someone else.
"Because of your birth, your mother ,my wife was ruined. Her body broke, and now she lies comatose in a corner of this house, forgotten by time. And yet, I waited. I hoped. I believed the gods might have given me a prodigy."
He finally turned his gaze toward me cold, unrecognizing.
"But you? You're not a gift. You're a burden I never wanted, but was forced to carry. And I regret it with every breath."
I swallowed hard, even though I already knew the ending.
"So," I whispered, "you cast the punishment spell… to put me down gently. A silent execution."
He nodded without shame.
"Yes. No one wants a child who burns his path in sin and returns only to beg for forgiveness he never earned."
"Did I ever ask for that?"
I don't think the real Lynn would do that.
Dawn didn't blink.
"No. And that silence was enough.
I made your fate mine to decide painless, clean. Your mother would've stood beside you, even in this state... even now."
He paused.
"But not me. I serve this family's name. Its honor. Not the shattered remains of someone I once called son."
He stepped forward. His voice lowered, sharp as glass.
"I want a son who claims his choices. Who breathes the Blake name with purpose. Who carves it into legacy. Not an empty shell without mana, without memory, without meaning."
He didn't know. He couldn't.
This body may have carried Lynn's name, Lynn's blood but it wasn't him. Not truly, anymore.
And yet… his words struck like they were meant for me.
"So here's your last grace," he said, almost a whisper.
"You are banished. You are nothing.
If your mother wakes up, I'll tell her the child died the moment he was born."
I stood there, silent. Not as Lynn.
Not as myself.
Just something… caught in between.
And for a fleeting second, I prayed,hoped that the real Lynn… never hears what his father said.
"Lynn Blake, your ties to this family are severed," Dawn said, his voice flat, final. "So get the hell out of my sight."
He added, almost mockingly soft,
"Consider this a request from the man who raised you. If you can do one thing for me, then leave this house."
His words were meant to sound like a plea. But really, they were just a blade sharp, clean, and already buried.
How noble. A father casting away his son over accusations, without lifting a finger to search for the truth.
In a world like this, where magic could make fantasy real, fabricating evidence was child's play.
Illusions, false memories, rewritten auras… If you wanted to destroy someone, magic handed you the tools with a smile.
And even without magic, people forged lies just fine. But with it?
The possibilities were endless.
"Is this a joke?"
My voice was calm. Steady. But it echoed through the room like a quiet verdict.
There was no anger in me just a deep, cold disappointment.
They weren't even trying to think anymore. And I was done wasting energy on people who traded truth for convenience.
"Dad… no—Mr. Dawn Blake" I said,the words falling with a quiet precision. "Why can't you at least review the facts yourself? Audit the trial. See the truth with your own eyes before casting me aside?"
Dawn's face remained unchanged, but I didn't expect it to soften. After all, I wasn't the real Lynn.
Still, I couldn't help but try.
"You're condemning me based on accusations, without even making an attempt to confirm if any of it holds weight," I added, my voice calm, yet heavy with unspoken frustration.
No rush, no anger. Just the harsh reality of being someone else's alternative,a replacement that would never truly belong here.
"Is this how you dispense justice,
Mr. Blake? By cutting down your relations with no evidence?"
He didn't respond his silence, as always, colder than any word could be.
"Is this how you lead your family?
By casting out people without hearing the truth?"
I looked at him straight into the eyes of a man who, for all intents and purposes, wasn't my father. And in that moment, I wasn't sure if I even wanted him to be.
"If this is the standard you hold for fatherhood… then you're unfit for the role."
There was no magic in my words. No mana to give them weight or pressure. I was just a figure in the wrong place, using the only power I had left: the ability to speak the truth.
It wasn't about being angry. It was about the stark realization that no matter how I argued, no matter how much I wished I was more than an alternative self, the truth was still out of reach.
I wasn't here to beg or demand.
I wasn't here to fight for my place,I was just here to exist. The words were the last vestige of my identity, the only thing left in this world that felt like it belonged to me.
The room fell silent. The quiet was thick with everything unspoken. And for a moment, I just stood there calm, collected, and out of place,waiting for something that would never come.
Before Dawn could reply, another voice rang out, high and sharp like a cracked bell.
"Quiet."
Lore stepped forward, arms crossed like she owned the air in the room.
"Don't speak like you're some saint fallen from the heavens."
I turned slowly to face her, raising a brow.
And here comes the family spokesperson for unnecessary drama.
"Saint?" I said, deadpan. "Please. I barely qualify as a civilian at this point."
She didn't laugh. Of course not.
Lore wasn't built for laughter only judgments and high heels.
"Your presence is a stain on this family," she spat. "Can't you grasp that? Or did your memory loss come with a full personality wipe too?"
I gave her a polite smile. The kind that says, Bless your heart but in another universe, I would've drop-kicked you into a pond.
"Maybe," I replied, "but even without my memories, I've somehow managed to keep common sense. You might want to try it sometime might change your life."
Lore's nostrils flared. If glares could kill, I'd be six feet under and the dirt would be ironed flat.
Her face stiffened like she was trying to hold in a scream and a monologue at the same time.
"And since we're being honest," I said, adjusting my tone "if this is what having a sister feels like, then I think I'm better off pretending we were strangers in another life."
I paused, tilted my head thoughtfully.
"You keep acting like you know me.
Like I'm supposed to fit into a mold I never chose. I don't remember my past but maybe that's a gift."
I paused.
"Because if this is how he was treated, I doubt he'd want to come back."
Her lip curled in disgust.
"You're just a broken piece of nothing. You think words are enough to undo the damage you caused?"
I tilted my head slightly.
"Funny. I could ask you the same."
I stepped forward, just enough to let her see I wasn't backing down.
"You've thrown nothing but knives since I opened my eyes. Not one moment of doubt. Not one moment of grace. Not even curiosity. Just… venom."
Her silence was louder than her voice.
"So no, I don't remember you. And if this is what passes for sisterhood, then I thank the gods for sparing me that part of my memory."
I looked her over, eyes cold.
"You call me a stain. A mistake. But at least I'm trying to understand what's going on. Meanwhile, you're just echoing whatever's easiest to hate."
Then, flatly:
"You're not afraid I'll ruin this family. You're afraid I'll prove I don't need it."
Lore didn't answer. She couldn't.
I'd carved through every accusation she threw with nothing but words and calm.
The room felt heavier now. The silence was suffocating but it wasn't mine to carry anymore.
I turned back to Dawn. The man who'd raised me though not really me.
Still, I stood up straight, because this wasn't for me anymore.
This was closure.
"Mr. Blake," I said, with a steadiness that felt foreign and familiar all at once.
"I'll ask you one last time."
My voice softened not weak, but honest.
"Will you look at the truth yourself?
Not through others. Not through magic. Just you. Me. The facts."
"if you still choose to cast me out after that at least I'll know it was truly your decision."
The hall held its breath.
One moment. One chance.
Not for redemption.
Just for recognition.
The air was heavy, unmoving.
Even Lore lips still curled from the burn of my word,didn't speak.
No one did.
It was like the house itself was listening, unsure of what its master would say.
Dawn didn't look at me immediately. His eyes wandered, like he was searching the walls for a better answer than the one sitting in front of him.
But there was none.
Finally, he exhaled. A long, drawn-out breath.
Then he spoke.
"Clarity…" he repeated softly.
His voice didn't rise, but it hit like a closing gate.
"You want me to look with my own eyes. But what would that change, boy?"
He raised his eyes to me, cold and clear.
"You weren't,worth it.
The words landed clean, merciless and final.
"You ask me to see the truth?" he continued.
"Here's the truth, Lynn. Or whoever you are now."
"I don't care if you're innocent. I don't care if you've changed. What matters is what you bring to this family. And what you bring now… is nothing."
He stepped forward, slow and deliberate.
"You say you're not asking for mercy. That's good."
"Because I have none to give."
I stood still. Let the cold settle in my bones.
I didn't flinch.
He leaned in, almost like he was giving me a secret.
"There's no place for you in this house, not because of what you did but because of what you've become."
He straightened his coat, then pointed to the door.
"Leave. That's all the clarity you'll get from me."
I didn't move yet. Just stared.
At him.
At Lore.
At the house that had already buried me alive.
Then I nodded.
No dramatic words. No more arguments.
"Fine.but you see....daddy....
You don't need to throw me out or anything,
I... QUITTT..."