Since the moment humanity began thinking beyond food and survival, the first spark of the most important question was ignited:
"Why are we here?"
Not "how," not "when," but "why?"
A question most people ignore, yet it has always been there—
Behind the noise of life, behind the glow of screens and the ping of notifications.
One question, knocking on the walls of the mind whenever the noise fades:
What is the meaning of existence?
Religions, philosophies, science, personal beliefs… all tried to answer it.
Some offered comforting answers,
Some said, "There is no answer at all,"
Others claimed, "We're not meant to know."
Despite the differences, they all agreed on one thing:
Fear of the unknown.
Fear of nothingness.
Fear of eternal silence.
Fear of not being.
Humans have never liked the unknown.
That's why they always needed stories.
Heaven, Valhalla, Paradise, Eden…
Hell, Niflheim, Helheim, lakes of fire, cursed valleys…
We tell stories so we don't fear.
So we can give death a shape, even if it's horrifying.
But there's a third theory…
Stranger, and closer to fiction than comfort:
Reincarnation.
To be born again.
To return to life, but in a different form.
Maybe in a new human body…
Or maybe… as a rat.
This idea first appeared in Hinduism,
Then slipped into East Asian cultures,
And finally stuck in the minds of novelists and anime writers.
Its rules are simple:
Do good, be reborn with honor.
Do evil, be reborn as punishment.
But it comforts no one,
Because no one who dies comes back to confirm it.
As for me… I thought I was thinking outside the box.
I didn't believe, nor did I reject.
I was just… waiting.
I believe the soul isn't an illusion, but energy.
And that this energy doesn't vanish—it transfers.
Think about it.
Is it really possible for all of this…
All these memories, feelings, reactions…
To just end, suddenly?
As if you never existed?
As if you were just a fleeting dream in a cosmic mind?
No. Impossible.
The body breaks.
The soul merely leaves.
It's like having a powerful engine in a junk car.
The engine doesn't stop—until the car crumbles on its own.
That's what I believe.
And that's what happened to me… I think.
I had an accident.
I don't know the details.
Maybe a truck, maybe a fall, maybe a sudden illness.
My memory is blurry—I don't even remember how.
I died.
Then I woke up.
At first, I thought it was a dream.
An overly luxurious room.
Purple curtains, a four-poster bed, servants standing like statues, a golden mirror on the wall.
It looked like a villain's room in a poorly written fantasy novel.
And more importantly…
This wasn't my body.
I was taller.
My voice deeper.
My hands… far too soft—it was disgusting.
I rose from the bed, trembling.
Walked to the mirror, and saw a face I didn't recognize—
But remembered.
This… this bastard from that novel.
The novel I read long ago and never finished.
A cliché on top of a cliché.
A noble academy.
A poor genius protagonist.
A spoiled bully villain.
A prophecy.
Bullying.
Training.
Love at first sight.
A festival battle.
Betrayal.
The hero's rise.
And the villain? (Me now.)
He meets his end in chapter 28.
Humiliation, then death.
This body… was his.
And this life?
Wasn't mine.
It's been a week, and I'm still in denial.
I suffer from constant insomnia.
I sleep only minutes at a time.
Everything is collapsing around me.
My mind refuses to accept it.
In novels, the protagonist adapts from day one.
He knows everything.
Steals the real hero's spotlight.
Creates his own legend.
Becomes a myth.
Me?
I'm just trying not to lose my mind.
This body?
Has nothing.
No skills.
No knowledge.
No strength.
Not even respect.
While the real hero trained…
This arrogant brat was harassing the maids.
If laziness had a form, this body would be its perfect embodiment.
And I don't have the genius of other novel protagonists.
I don't know where treasures are.
I don't remember the events in detail.
I'm stuck.
But…
Wait.
There's one thing most protagonists in these kinds of stories have in common—
The golden finger.
Or as it's usually called…
The System.
I yelled into the air, "System? Are you there? Answer me! Give me a mission, a window, anything!"
Silence.
"I know you can hear me! This isn't fair! I didn't ask for this!"
Silence.
"Show me my status! Give me a starter quest! Activate cheat power!"
Silence… then—
[System connected]
[Initializing…]
My breath stopped.
My mind froze.
My eyes stared into the void, as if seeing numbers materialize before me.
The System… had appeared.