• Reincarnation 3
-Now you will have to stand by until my Lord makes an appearance to transport you and the rest to another world. Good luck, User 18.-
The light-blue, flickering system finally disappeared before Ivar's eyes, leaving him with one final message to stand by and wishing him luck.
'Luck, huh.'
Ivar scoffed at the notion of luck, a concept he abhorred. To him, luck was unpredictable and uncontrollable, yet undeniably important in life.
He had to admit that he was lucky to be born into a wealthy family, fortunate enough to be a descendant of the man he admired most. He was also lucky to be gifted with exceptional genetics that helped him excel in combat and survive countless battles, both in and out of the ring.
However, when luck favored others against him, Ivar despised it. He hated losing in situations where he was supposed to be invincible. One instance stood out in his mind: a veteran fighter, whom Ivar had confidently bet on, lost to an inexperienced opponent in an underground fight where there were virtually no rules. Anyone could die in the ring, and yet the inexperienced man survived.
Though misfortune rarely struck him, Ivar vividly remembered one devastating moment: the day his doctor informed him that he could never sire a son.
Still, Ivar acknowledged the role luck played, even if it wasn't always to his liking.
Eventually, it seemed that everyone in the void had made their choices and was now waiting for the one responsible for this entire ordeal—a wait that, surprisingly, none of them seemed to mind.
Suddenly, smoke filled the void, followed by a loud explosion. A Jester appeared, bowing theatrically as though he were a gentleman. It was as if time itself were reversing.
"Hello, hello! Did you miss me?"
Receiving no replies, the Jester feigned offense, dramatically clutching his chest as though stabbed.
"Ouch, that hurt. I mean, I did give you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Oh well. Anyway, once you're all gone, you should know that you'll all start at the same age. So, if you chose to be a Giant, you're an idiot. It's too late now!"
The Jester chuckled, clearly amused by the candidates' distressed expressions. To him, their reactions were priceless. Without further delay, the Jester teleported them away, waving his hand and pointing his index finger.
"Bye-bye!"
As they vanished, the Jester's voice echoed:
"Do not disappoint me! I have high expectations for you all. Entertain my customers!"
The former elderly man was quick to realize the strange situation he was in: he was now a fetus. The thought horrified him.
He loathed the helplessness of being stuck in a woman's womb, unable to move freely or do anything but wait. The sensation of confinement made him feel as though he were being strangled.
Worse still, the silence and boredom were driving him to madness. He had no one to talk to, nothing to do except dwell in his thoughts.
In desperation, he decided to meditate. Meditation had been a part of his life before—he used it to memorize combat styles or calm himself during emotional turmoil. However, it had been a long time since he'd last meditated.
He began recalling events from his previous life.
More than once, he mentally cringed at his past mistakes. One particularly embarrassing memory surfaced: his first day at a public school. Due to his noble upbringing, he had acted far too formally, earning him nothing but mockery and laughter from his classmates. Though he had retaliated against their ridicule, the humiliation still stung.
From that incident, he had learned a valuable lesson: never act too formal around people who weren't reserved. Ironically, he had to blackmail a fellow student into teaching him how to appear more casual.
As he meditated, nine months passed.
By the end of those months, the former adult had achieved incredible power through his meditative practice.
He discovered that he could now recall memories almost perfectly, even those he hadn't consciously remembered before. These vivid recollections filled him with nostalgia.
Additionally, he developed an extraordinary sense of awareness of his own body. He could feel his bones, heart, lungs, blood, and veins as if he were observing them in real-time. His knowledge of biology, coupled with his new abilities, allowed him to marvel at the intricate design of his anatomy.
Although he couldn't yet extend his perception outside his body due to some mysterious barrier, he could tell that it was only a matter of time before he broke through.
Despite this limitation, he remained fascinated by the miracle of human development—how a single sperm could create an entire, perfectly-formed body.
Whenever he pondered this, his thoughts turned to the entity known as "God." Though he had never prayed or placed faith in a deity, he had always believed in one.
So many mysteries remained unsolved by science: the vastness of the universe, the creation of Earth, and the delicate balance of its ecosystem.
Though meditation occupied much of his time, he also spent countless hours contemplating his future.
Would he be born into a peaceful era or a chaotic one? Would his new family be wealthy or impoverished? He couldn't deny that he enjoyed being spoiled in his previous life, and he desperately hoped not to be born poor.
'Sue me', he thought.
He also worried about his new name. "Ivar" had been a name he cherished, but he feared his new parents might give him something ridiculous. If they did, he vowed to change it at the first opportunity.
Despite these uncertainties, he eventually made up his mind about his purpose in this new life.
'I will become the strongest, without rivals. And this time, I'll build a family strong enough to take over the world.'
The child knew he had a mission: to entertain the Jester. But this didn't faze him. In his previous life, he had been an entertainer in the ring, fighting to excite the audience. Being an entertainer was second nature to him—a side mission, at best.
The other mission, however, loomed heavily over him. He was tasked with defeating the person who had been sent to this world before him. He wasn't sure if he could succeed, but he had to try.
The weight of these thoughts stressed him out. Suddenly, he felt suffocated, the walls of his mother's womb pressing tightly against him. He began moving frantically, realizing what was happening: he was about to be born.
Overwhelmed by the chill of the outside world, he felt a massive hand grab his feet and pull him out roughly. Panic surged through him.
'What the hell is going on? Are you trying to kill me and the lady? Aren't you supposed to deliver me gently?'
As blood covered his tiny body, a sharp cry tore from his throat—both from pain and indignation.
To his relief, a nurse quickly cradled him against her chest, humming softly to soothe him. Her warmth and gentle touch began to lull him to sleep.
As he drifted off, one final thought crossed his mind:
'New world, new me. Now that's a perfect quote for my situation!'