If someone had told me that death was not the end but a doorway to a new beginning, I would have laughed—or more likely, ignored them, buried as I was in my work. Yet, here I was, Ethan Carter, standing at the threshold of a world that defied everything I knew.
The revelation of the 'cheat' was both a liberation and a chain. Knowledge from my past life lingered in my mind like the aftertaste of strong coffee, bitter and persistent. It was a reservoir of potential, a wellspring of power that could uplift this medieval society—or doom it.
I had started small, with innovations that seemed benign: a water wheel, a pulley system, even a rudimentary form of crop rotation. The people hailed these as miracles, and I, their architect, became something of a local legend. But as their awe grew, so did my unease.
I was no stranger to the spotlight, having been groomed for leadership in my previous life. But this was different. Here, I was not just a leader; I was a pioneer, a prophet, a beacon of progress in a world that had never seen the likes of me.
With each passing day, my 'cheat' unveiled itself further, revealing inventions and ideas that could catapult this society centuries ahead. I could introduce them to electricity, to medicine, to machines that could plow their fields and light their nights. But at what cost?
I remembered the world I had left behind, a world where progress often came at the expense of peace, where innovation bred competition, and competition bred conflict. Was I ready to set this world on the same path?
As I wrestled with these thoughts, I found myself at a crossroads. One path led to a life of quiet obscurity, the life I had yearned for. The other to a destiny of greatness, a chance to be remembered as the man who changed the world.
But history is littered with the tales of men who reached too far, too fast. I had no desire to become a cautionary tale.
So, I made a decision. I would use my 'cheat,' but with caution, with restraint. I would not unleash the full force of my knowledge upon this world. Instead, I would guide it, nurture it, and help it grow at a pace it could withstand.
It was a fine line to walk, a balance between progress and preservation. But it was a line I was determined to tread. For in this new life, I was not just an office worker or an innovator. I was a guardian of a world that had given me a second chance.
And I would not squander it.