[This is…]
The world felt so slippery to Number 23. Unable to open his eyes, he could only make sense of his world through the odd sensations slowly but gradually permeating his brain. Everything was sticky and slimy, as if he were wrapped in goo. The world he perceived as cold at his death had become a comforting warmth he never thought he would experience.
Voices, most of them unclear and muffled, whispered into Number 23's ears. It felt like waking up from a dream; everyone called him with the most tender of voices.
The touch, the smells, the taste… Everything was new to Number 23. The warmth that enveloped him very quickly turned into a greater one as the sticky goo that stuck to his entire body was being wiped away through the touch of another. And when the final bit of slime was wiped from his face, Number 23 opened his eyes.
The bright lights from the ceiling were too much of a shock for Number 23 to handle, and unaware of his state, the cold, ruthless Transcendent unwittingly did something he had never done for decades.
Number 23…
Cried.
Voices of all sorts echoed around Number 23. Unaware of the peals of laughter and why it was happening, he felt his body moving around. Like a football, he moved from one place to the next, and he was utterly powerless to stop it. The only thing that he could do was rely on his instincts to keep crying. Fortunately, after a few minutes, the movement came to a halt.
At that moment, Number 23 was wrapped in a new warmth. However, this wasn't the same slimy and distasteful warmth he had experienced. Instead, it was an indescribable warmth that the cold Transcendent had never felt in his life before.
As if he were desperate to figure out the identity of this mysterious warmth, Number 23 struggled to open his eyes. The light was still too bright for him to handle, but he was slowly adjusting to it. Bit by bit, his crying stopped, and his eyes finally opened.
A beautiful lady.
That was the first thing that Number 23 saw. She was sweating heavily, and her face was drained due to exhaustion. Yet, the woman wore the most radiant smile Number 23 had ever seen. She rested her palms on his cheeks and leaned in for a kiss. Words started to come out of her mouth, but Number 23 couldn't understand them.
But that didn't matter.
As the world became clearer and Number 23's mind sobered up, he finally understood his situation.
[It seems like… I've reincarnated.]
❖❖❖
"I was wrong, I didn't reincarnate…"
Ten years have passed since Number 23 died at the hands of the Thousand Transcendent Alliance. Initially, he'd thought that since waking up from certain death, he had reincarnated into a new body and was given a new lease on life. However, after observing his surroundings for a few years, it became painfully apparent that this wasn't Earth.
In this world, everyone was given supernatural gifts. There wasn't a single human being that couldn't use magic or some superhuman ability that was impossible for non-Trancendents back on Earth. While the technology here wasn't primitive, it was completely different from what was available back on Earth.
Magic stones were powering light bulbs; the architecture seemed ripped out from the Renaissance era, with castles and citadels erected at every corner. While some areas were underdeveloped in the eyes of modern humans on Earth, many technological marvels exceeded Earth's technology by a land mile.
For instance, a magical dimension bag that could store up to a hundred kilograms of items, portable toilets that rivalled the best on Earth, self-flying carriages that could traverse treacherous journeys by themselves... the list was endless.
Number 23 had come to a different planet with a different reality. And it was something that the former Transcendent could cope with.
Alas, everything he'd seen was too painfully familiar to him.
He especially remembered the large crest that hung on top of the gigantic gates he was looking at—a golden Dragon holding a majestic silver sword. It was a design that he could never forget, a design that had burned into his memory ever since he reincarnated into this world.
"The Solaris Crest… I've transmigrated into [Bright], huh?"
It was an unexpected development. At the end of his life, Number 23 remembered silently praying to see the ending of [Bright]. But who would have thought that his wish would have come true?
Once again, Number 23 looked at the Solaris Crest and heaved a large sigh.
The Solaris House was a big part of [Bright]'s story. It was the protagonist's family house, and it played a significant role in the first few books of the story. It wasn't just the Solaris House; the characters that Number 23 read also came to life. The Solaris House's Patriarch, the youngsters compete with the protagonist and even the maids serving him. They were all real people in this world, and ever since transmigrating, Number 23 had confirmed their identities several times.
It wasn't a dream, but real life.
And he wasn't the protagonist of this story…
But an extra.
"Amon! Why are you sitting here in a daze?"
The young boy snapped out of his stupor and followed the voice that called him. Blinking his deep golden eyes, the boy watched as a beautiful lady in her thirties sauntered towards him with a pearly white smile. She had rich brown hair with hazel, cat-like eyes. Dressed in a formal fur dress with a cut that highlighted her neckline, the woman walked with grace and poise, fitting her position as a highborn noble lady.
"Mother, I was just watching the gates."
"You've been doing that a fair bit recently… Is there a reason why?"
"Nothing much," the boy shook his head. "It just calms my mind."
"Hoho, ten years old, and you speak like a forty-year-old!"
The woman chuckled and hid her smile behind a handkerchief. She blinked twice before bending down to wipe the one bead of sweat off her son's forehead. Once she was satisfied, the noblewoman began stroking the young boy's head like a precious diamond and continued:
"You are turning ten in a week! Is there anything you want?"
"Something… I want?"
Amon looked confused by the question.
"Of course! It's my boy's tenth birthday; I'll buy you anything!"
"Why would you give me something even though I've done nothing?"
Number 23, a man-made killer who had done everything that his government had ordered him to do, could not comprehend the concept of gifts. Why was he being rewarded for doing nothing? Heck, why was he even being awarded? The former Transcendent had no idea.
"Hah… We have this conversation every year…"
The woman laughed merrily at her son's funny words. She asked this question yearly, and her son replied the same way. Perhaps it was due to her motherly love filter, but everything this son said was adorable and lovable.
"You didn't do nothing! Ten years ago, you came to me safely and healthily. That's the biggest gift you've given me! So, to compensate, I will give you a gift every year!"
"..."
The same reply, the same response.
Number 23 couldn't comprehend the woman's words, but his chest would feel warm each time she said it. It was something he didn't understand. After years of purging his emotions, the former Transcendent felt his lost humanity slowly being rebuilt in this new world.
Not as Number 23, the ruthless and deadliest Transcendent the world has ever known.
But as Amon Solaris. A mere extra in this tale.
"Haha, you can think about it and let me know! For now, let's go to the dining room. Come on, Amon! Your father is waiting for you!"
Amon looked up at his mother's smile. It was ever so radiant and bright. Amon wondered if, one day, he could reciprocate that smile. Suppose he could smile from the bottom of his heart.
A wry, smaller smile crept up the boy's lips as he reached for his mother's hand. Shaking his head, Amon emptied his mind of those useless thoughts and replied with the best smile he could muster at the moment:
"Thank you, mother."
❖❖❖
"Amon, you're turning ten soon."
Amon was munching on his steak when a hoarse voice was directed in his way. Looking up, he saw a middle-aged man staring right at him. The man had a full head of black hair and a well-trimmed beard. His wrinkles were beginning to show, and his squarish face plus brown tan made the man's appearance somewhat leathery by nature. However, the one attribute that stood out the most about that forty-year-old man wasn't his overbearing frame or intimidating face… But his majestic golden eyes seemed to look directly at the world's truth.
"Have you decided on your career path?"
"Not yet, father."
Amon gave an emotionless answer, as always, when this question arose.
"Mmmm, you're young, so you don't see the urgency of your situation." Amon's father sighed. "While I am a Guardian Knight, I don't want to pressure you to become a Knight. However, as with all professions, the earlier you begin, the better. If you wish to go down the path of administration, that is fine as well."
"... Understood."
The world of [Bright] was very different from Earth, at least for those born into the Solaris House. There wasn't a mandatory education system, and children did not need to attend schools in the Solaris House. Children would decide on their profession based on their ideals and talents from a young age. Once they have chosen, their parents will sponsor their dreams by sending them to specialised schools to train them in their respective professions.
There was a school dedicated to magic studies. Prospective, talented magicians would gather here to hone their skills and become spectacular mages who would serve the Solaris House well. There was a school for healers and barrier arts. A school dedicated to training the next generation of doctors and protectors that would become the backbone of the Solaris House. A school of herbalists, a school of inventors, a school of gadget development…
There was even a school of administration: the pen and the sword. One couldn't do without the other. While the Solaris House was primarily a Knight Household, they couldn't have survived since the Age of Dragons without the help of their talented administrators.
Diplomats, politicians, accountants, lawyers, strategists… The list of prestigious professions that emerged from the school of administration was endless. If the Knights were the sword of the Solaris House, the administrators were the skeleton.
But of course, the most prestigious and well-known school was undoubtedly…
The Knight's Academy.
"My, my! There's no need to rush! You still have two more years to think about it!"
Amon's mother joined in the conversation with a gentle clap and smile.
"Maya, you're spoiling Amon," the muscular man frowned and shook his head. "Twelve years old is the cut-off point where one can join a school, but everyone joins much earlier. We're even sending Arya to the Knight's Academy this year!"
"It's okay, Daddy! I will protect Amon if he needs it!"
A youthful voice bellowed out from Amon's side, forcing him to tilt his head down.
A small girl barely reaching his shoulder in height beamed in joy as she placed both her hands on Amon's lap. Her golden eyes sparkled with the resplendence of the Big Dipper, and her chubby cheeks were puffed like a loaf of freshly baked bread. Her shoulder-length black hair was identical to Amon's and his father's, but it was far silkier and smoother, making it look like the girl was wearing a pure black helmet.
But the most adorable part of the young girl… was her ignorance of her surroundings. Even the cold-hearted former killing machine couldn't help but laugh.
"Arya, you have a stain on your mouth."
"Eughhh! Really? Where?!"
"Don't worry, I got it."
Amon took his tablecloth and gently wiped the stain cleanly away. Arya purred like a kitten as she raised her chin defencelessly. It was hard to imagine this little girl boasting that she would protect Amon moments before.
"Thank chuu!"
"No problem," Amon smiled. "Finish your food. I'll bring you out for a post-dinner walk."
"Really?! Hehe, you're the best!!!"
Arya quickly latched onto her brother's left arm and nuzzled her nose into his elbow. Quick on the uptake, Amon raised his right hand and rested it on his sister's round head. In truth, he wished for his sister to finish her meal to escape this awkward situation quickly. Alas, Amon's father wasn't going to let the matter slide.
"Hmmm, since you're good at handling children, perhaps childcare would be a good path for you."
"Aaron!!!"
Amon's mother snapped back at her husband for pressing the matter. Usually, the burly man was weak to his beloved wife's holler, but he refused to step down this time.
"Maya! This is important! We're proud members of the Solaris House! We can't let our descendants rot away as freeloaders."
"But…"
"Enough!"
Amon's father put his foot down, signalling the end of the debate. Sensing the change, Amon's mother shook her head but didn't retort this time. She worriedly looked at her precious son while her husband had the last word.
"I'll expect an answer from you next week on your birthday, Amon. Even if you don't have any ambition, at least tell me one of your interests. I'll do my best to enrol you by month's end."
"... Understood."
The warm family dinner ended on a cold note, with Amon leading his sister out to the garden for a post-dinner walk. From the corner of his eyes, Amon could see his father folding his arms in contemplation while his mother started scolding from the side. But that wasn't Amon's problem anymore.