Chapter three- recording of the past.
Jamie wanted to click "no."
But he chose "yes."
Maybe it was his deepest desire—to find something worth living for.
[Thank you for choosing. Your content and trial will soon be downloaded and commence. Please stand by.]
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The words floated in front of his face, counting upward. Jamie saw only numbers and darkness.
But soon, the darkness shifted. The numbers faded into the background, zipping past like a broken film, glitching and rewinding to the start of a movie.
Jamie felt his life rewind, flashing before his eyes like a recording.
He saw himself as a baby, cradled by a cloaked figure, being dropped off at the orphanage. The scene changed quickly, fast-forwarding to Jamie as a young boy sitting at a desk.
The nun was teaching them formal English. The children around Jamie laughed and chatted, carefree as children tend to be. The boy next to Jamie got caught by the nun.
"Your lives are on the line here, and you dare laugh in my lesson? Not only do you mock my authority, but you do not take your life seriously."
The nun grabbed a ruler and dragged the boy forward. He cried, pleading for forgiveness. The nun didn't hesitate. She brought the ruler down on the child's arm like a whip.
Jamie flinched, feeling the sting as though it had struck him.
The scene fast-forwarded four years.
Reading was everything now. It was their education, their only way out of the orphanage—or so they believed. Every month, the children underwent assessments. Low scorers were punished and forced to study harder. The high scorers were presented to wealthy families as potential adoptees.
Jamie, like the others, dreamed of a family.
The scene changed again. Jamie and his friends were excited to see one of the orphans who had been adopted come back to visit. But when they met him, their excitement turned to horror.
The boy's eyes were hollow, emotionless—like a machine. Forced to read, forced to study, then sold off to the highest bidder. These orphans were treated like commodities, trained to become something more than just children. Slaves, soldiers, tools.
Was this the life Jamie wanted?
The scene shifted again. Jamie sat in the nun's office, his wrists red and raw, traces of blood visible. He wanted to cry, to shout, to express his rage.
"I'm disappointed in you, Jamie. You were one of my top students. High scores, excellent physical performance—you could've been the best. But now your grades are slipping."
Even in this memory, Jamie clenched his teeth. Reading had once been his escape, a way to flee from suffering. Now, it was his harsh reality.
"I understand, Mother," Jamie said.
"No, I don't think you do," the nun replied coldly. She clapped her hands, and the door behind Jamie opened.
It was his friend, Samuel.
"Sam… Wait, Mother, he had nothing to do with this."
"Quiet, Jamie!" The nun cut him off. "I don't want to hear another word from you. Samuel has the worst grades besides you. If I allow him to influence the others, especially you, I'll lose control of this orphanage. Samuel must be punished accordingly."
Jamie had seen this moment once before. He didn't want to relive it. But the Record Trials were making him experience it all over again.
Samuel stood silently, holding out his hands. The nun raised her punishment whip high into the air.
"Samuel, you've disgraced me. You've dragged Jamie down with you. For this, you will be whipped fifty times."
She swung the whip down—
The scene changed again. Jamie was now running through the alleys, clutching bread in his arms. Life as a street rat was hard, unforgiving. He kept running, kept escaping, until he reached his hideout. There, he ate his stolen food in peace.
The scenes continued to shift, showing Jamie moments from his life—normal moments, terrible moments, moments he didn't want to relive.
Then, the hospital scene appeared.
Jamie lay on a bed, the doctor beside him. He realized that the downloading process was almost complete.
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Jamie let out a breath. The record of his past life was finished. Some people enjoyed seeing their past and reliving memories—not to change them, but to feel that old sensation again. Nostalgia can be beautiful, but Jamie only saw trauma.
The urge to experience his best moments was overshadowed by the worst.
But that chapter was closed now. Memories, like a side mirror, are there to be glanced at—not stared at.
A new chapter was about to begin.
[Welcome, new reader. Transporting you into the perfect role.]