I entered that school through the scholarship student system for the physically talented. In other words, I entered because I was good at fighting.
That school teaches things from monster hunting to forein affairs. It was truly a well-versed school. Although, their monster hunting course is child's play compared to the real combat in the battlefield.
Anyways, is this truly real? Is this regression? Wait, no... recalling my memories from this life, there were slight differences between the two. Not big enough to call it a butterfly effect but small enough to make me come to the conclusion that this is not the past. For example, my first debut match in the octagon had a different fighter from both lives among the many other differences. So, did I inherit the memories of that life who died?
Questioning that, I felt my heat beating faster and faster, a raging fire settled in my heart and coursed through my veins as I felt my eyes sting slightly, as if something came into contact with it, causing me to wince. Opening my eyes again, my vision became clearer and sharper and the raging fire sat quietly, flickering once and again.
Anyways, I need to settle it right now. Am I me from my past life or did I just inherit his memories? Thinking deeply, considering that I immediately hugged Luna without second thought even though I had a relationship with her friend, it seems that I just inherited the memories of my past life. I don't feel anything at the mention of Raven, she's just a friend of my current girlfriend.
Besides this burning feeling of rage and anger, I don't feel anything from my past life, atleast, not at the mention of the name Raven, besides the name being repeated in my mind again and again, as if its a remnant thought that plagued me. I thought, because digging through my memories, it seemed that I truly loved her, even going on a rampage when she died unjustly.
Yep, I've concluded. I just inherited the memories and this rage from my past life. So right now, I am still the 17 year old me in this life. I thought, because of how weird it is to not feel something at the mention of someone you loved deeply being alive.
Looking at the mirror now, I am reminded of how youthfu I am, especially since I saw my memories from what you could say the future. I still looked handsome, but I looked quite stressed. Although that in its own had its charm. Oh, so I dyed my hair black in the future? Hmm, why? I asked, looking through my memories. To blend in? Guess I really did try anything to survive. I thought to myself.
Standing at 183 cm (about 6ft) tall, I had tanned skin and golden hair, I was often compared to how a wheat field would look like if it was human. My pupils dyed blood-red as if it was the sky during the setting sun. Huh, wait? I remember having the color black for my pupils? That's weird... Thinking that it was weird, I decided to go to a check-up at a doctor I was close with.
With all the thinking done, I kicked myself up from the bed and stood up. Getting ready for the day. Hmm? Looking around, I see no proper equipment in case shit hit the fans. Well, I guess this is a given. I'm inside the walls right now afterall. But still, I should atleast have the bare minimum. I thought as I made my way out after showering and preparing myself. Dressed in an all-black outfit with a hoodie on and black leather boots, plain and simple.
Getting my phone to check up on the news, I saw a rather interesting article.
[Wyvern subjugation on going.
The military has decided that they are going to subdue a wyvern plaguing the vicinity of XX city in XX province. The plan include...]
Hmm, this also happened in my past life. It ended in failure because they failed to predict the existence of another wyvern, the researchers said that it was mating season for them. I always had the habit of checking up on news, it seems I had this habit in my past life as well.
Going out of the elevator of the basement floor, I see a burly and fully bearded brown haired man, dressed in a suit and tie that barely contains his bulging muscle coming out of the other elevator.
"Hey, where are you going right now? And what's up with your eyes?" A deep voice echoed, something you'd expect from a man that huge.
"Nothing, their just contacts. Anyways, just give me the keys manager." This big man here is my manager and my foster father, Hans Trowel. A 31 years old, huge man standing at 196 cm (about 6' 5") with hands the size of a football. A muscular behemoth to say the least.
"Bu -"
"Just give it to me." I said in authoritative tone, a tone you'd hear from a leader of a military squad. After hearing me with that tone, he conceded and gave me the key, it was the key for a black G60.
After he gave me the key, I rushed to the car and started it. Leaving him behind. Now all alone, Hans was left wondering... "But when did you learn how to drive?"
...
Whistle
"Wait, I feel like I'm forgetting something? Hans? No, I left him on purpose." Thinking that I turned my head, phone, wallet, keys. I have everything? "Wait, wallet? I keep my cards there... oh my license. I don't have a license yet..." I said to myself, I just turned 18 this 12th of May afterall. Anyways, it's not like I'll get caught.
...
"Heyo. I'm here for a check-up, Dr. Robert." I said slightly peeking at the door. He's a doctor I've known since I was a child, he was in charge of my health since the start of my career as a fighter.
"Why are you here?" A middle-aged man with a clean-shaven face said behind a computer.
"I called for a check-up, something's weird with my eyes." I said to him.
"Then you should have looked for an opthalmologist, not for me."
"Come on, just take a look." I said pleadingly as I sit down right across him.
"Fine, let's get you some check-ups."
...
2 hours later.
"Nothings wrong with you." He said confidently.
"Then why is my eye like this?" I said to him while stretching my eye-lids out with my hands.
"Hmm, it seems be red-shade syndrome. It does nothing harmful to your body, in fact, it might even benefit you as it boost vitality and whatnot." He said, flipping through a clip board with a lot of papers in it.
"Can a doctor really speak this nonchalantly to a worried patient?" I asked him in a teasing manner.
"But I do find it weird. Normally, red-shade syndrome is what you get when you kill monsters up-close. It can be passed on genetically though... Has your ancestors been killing monsters?" He said, hands in his chin in varying tones.
"Have they? I don't know." I said in reply, hands on my chin and in varying tones as well.
"You brat, don't tease your elders!!" Robert said calmly, almost throwing his clipboard at me.
"Anyways, since nothing is wrong. I'll get going now. I have somewhere to go." I said to him in a hurried manner, standing up and rushing to the door.
"Hey, where's your manager." He said, "He's not here despite you calling in for a check-up?" He continued.
"Oh you mean Hans? I left him, I drove here afterall." After I said that, I hurriedly went out of his office and into the parking lot, driving away for my next destination.
"Hmm, that kid. When did he learn how to drive?" Robert said in contemplation, as he went about scrolling through patient records in his computer once again.
...
[Wyvern: B-class monster
Description: Often describe as a flying tank. With their thick hides that can deflect most calibers and its ability to fly, anti-aircraft artillery is advised to be able to inflict damage to such a monster. With its sharp claws and ability to spew out acid, along with its stinger that can pierce metal plates with ease. It is a dangerous beast. They are solitary beast and would ignore humans because they are not worthy prey unless provoked.
Notes: Highly dangerous, do not provoke.]