Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

Reincarnation 1

{ White Void }

An old man appeared, standing still with his eyes closed and his face shielded by his arm. When he no longer felt the blinding light, he lowered his arm and carefully opened his eyes. To his surprise, he saw people staring at him with amused expressions.

Embarrassed, he attempted to glare menacingly at them, but it had no effect. Instead, they began to chuckle. It was then he realized something strange—he couldn't hear any sound other than his own breathing.

"This is weird. Looks like that anonymous bastard was telling the truth," Ivar mused, smirking with a hint of excitement. Ignoring the onlookers, he sat down, closed his eyes, and adopted a stoic expression.

More people began to appear—men and women, young and old, thin and fat, muscular and frail. The crowd grew larger until it reached about ninety-nine individuals.

"Teleportation, huh? Is this supernatural or some kind of advanced technology?" Ivar wondered. He quickly deduced that everyone had been brought here in the same manner. What puzzled him was how it was accomplished.

Several hours seemed to pass, and impatience started to gnaw at him. A small number of people shouted in frustration, though no sound came from them. Ivar scoffed at their futility. In his eyes, they were fools. Others, however, began communicating using sign language—an intelligent move, he thought, though ultimately pointless since none of them had any useful information.

Suddenly, the void began to vibrate violently, sending people staggering and tumbling in comical positions. Just as abruptly, the trembling stopped, and in the center of the void, a figure appeared—shrouded in complete darkness.

The darkness slowly dissipated, revealing the figure's bizarre appearance, which caused many gasps and uneasy gulps.

The man resembled a Jester. His outfit was adorned with various suit symbols across the front, back, and torso. Teardrops were painted on both of his cheeks, and his ears were decorated with heart-shaped earrings. His long, claw-like nails glimmered ominously, and his hair shimmered between neon blue, red, and pink.

"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. My apologies for taking so much of your time, and I applaud your patience," the Jester said, bowing flamboyantly with an exaggerated smirk plastered on his face.

"So it's him," Ivar thought as he recognized the Jester as the mysterious individual he had spoken to earlier.

The Jester's appearance unnerved most of the crowd, causing some to fidget anxiously or glare in annoyance. A few brave individuals, however, seemed to appraise him with interest. Noticing this, the Jester spread his arms theatrically, singling them out with a gleaming eye.

"I'll get straight to the point. I'm sure you've all noticed there are ninety-nine of you here, alive and well. The reason I chose this number is simple: you are all here to entertain me. And don't worry—you already agreed to this."

The Jester grinned widely, his tone both mocking and gleeful.

"While you're busy entertaining me, you have one mission. At least one of you must destroy a powerful individual who originated from your world and now resides in another. When you arrive, there will be one hundred people from your world already there—hence why I've chosen ninety-nine of you here."

His smile grew sinister.

"Oh, and don't even think about teaming up. If you try, I'll kill you myself. You're not friends—you're opponents. You'll have to kill each other. That's my rule, and I just made it up. There can only be one winner. Either you… or that person in the other world. If he wins, I'll grant him freedom to do as he pleases. I don't mind losing… but I really don't like it. So don't fail me!~"

The crowd froze in shock. The Jester's words sank in, and after a moment, many of them processed the twisted opportunity he was offering. Some were excited, others frightened.

One man finally spoke up. "Are we really supposed to fight in these bodies? Because if we are, we're definitely going to lose."

The Jester teleported in front of the man in an instant, his right index finger hovering above the man's forehead. The man stood frozen in fear as the Jester's nail pricked his skin, drawing blood.

"Did I give you permission to speak? I'll let this slide once, but in the next life, you'll lose a limb for eternity. Understood?"

The Jester teleported back to his previous spot, his demeanor suddenly cheerful again as though nothing had happened.

"What an idiot," mused a woman nearby, her face pale. She glared at the Jester, though she knew full well there was nothing she could do against him.

"As I was saying, you will not regret this opportunity. You'll be reincarnated into entirely new bodies, and I'll even let you choose your race and your location. Aren't I generous?"

The Jester's tone turned teasing.

"However, you won't be able to pick ridiculously powerful races. That wouldn't be fair. And you'll need to hurry—other people can claim the options you want. Isn't that exciting? Now, clap for my brilliant mind and this game I've devised!"

The crowd, feeling pressured, quickly started clapping, even if many of them were unnerved. Some even felt genuine gratitude for the opportunity.

"This is going to be bloody… I think I shat my pants," thought one of the men lazily as he glanced at the others.

"In exactly five minutes, you'll be given a system to choose your race and location. For now, you're free to communicate. I've lifted the silence barrier. Enjoy!"

With a creepy laugh that made many contestants shiver, the Jester conjured a card in his hand and tossed it to the ground. With a loud explosion and smoke billowing out, he vanished theatrically.

The crowd was left speechless, exchanging glances. Conversations began to erupt.

A massive man, towering at 6'8 with a muscular build, light skin, and a faded mohawk, approached a dark-skinned woman standing nearby. Her hazel eyes regarded him warily as she adjusted her ponytail, her waist-length black hair swaying slightly.

"Hey, what did you do before?" the man asked, his tone flirty but curious.

She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because there has to be something that connects all of us. The funny guy wouldn't choose weaklings, so I'm curious—what did you do?"

Surprised by his insight, the woman considered for a moment. "Why not? It's not like anyone will know me once we're in new bodies."

"An information broker. I used to be an assassin when I was younger. What about you?"

"An assassin, huh? Impressive. I used to be the CEO of a construction company. I handed it off to my nephew and started focusing on the gym. I mean, look at these guns."

He shamelessly flexed his massive biceps, grinning. Meanwhile, other contestants were forming groups, arguing, or having quieter conversations.

Ivar Lothbrok stood apart, talking to another elderly man who was noticeably thinner, his hair patchy with many bald spots.

"Why haven't you just shaved it all off? It looks awful."

"Oh, shut up. I was going to, but that damn Jester interrupted me."

Ivar chuckled, and the two fell silent, sharing an understanding that their past lives were irrelevant now. Bonding was pointless; soon, they would be forced to kill each other.

After four minutes, a barrier descended once again, silencing the crowd.

In front of Ivar, a glowing blue square appeared, flickering with a title that prompted him to say "Start system."

Mentally, he obeyed. "Start system."

A menu appeared before him, offering two options:

- Location or Race -