The crack of wood against stone. The unmistakable thud of a boot slamming into my ribs.
Pain surged through me. Cold, brutal. It hit harder than the darkness that surrounded me. I gasped, my chest heaving as the world spun into focus.
Where am I?
My body felt... wrong. I could still feel the raw sensation of being kicked in the ribs, but it was a different pain. Not the kind that came from years of training, nor the sting of betrayal. No, this was something else. Something unfamiliar.
A boot pressed into my side again, and a voice rumbled, low and threatening. "Get up, you worthless bastard."
I blinked, struggling to sit up, my arms heavy, my head throbbing. The room was dim, barely lit by a flickering oil lamp. The air smelled of old food, sweat, and the sour tang of damp wood.
For a moment, I thought I was back there—the cold, metallic scent of blood, the screams as I was butchered. Betrayed. My heart raced at the memory. The feeling of my life slipping away in the hands of those I trusted.
No.
I clenched my fists, biting down the pain. This wasn't that place. This wasn't the last moment of my death.
"Get the hell up!" The boot kicked harder, snapping me out of my thoughts.
This wasn't me. This wasn't the me I remembered—the one who had been a genius, the one who had owned empires. No. This body—this was different and so was the familiarity that came with it. I could feel it in my bones, in the weakness of my hands, in the tender, unfamiliar pain of my muscles.
I glanced down at my hands. They were pale, rough, and weak—nothing like they used to be. These hands... they weren't mine. This wasn't my body.
I pushed myself to sit up fully, sweat stinging my eyes. My chest felt hollow, like there was something inside trying to claw its way out.
Fragments of memories began to flood my mind, flickering like shattered glass. An orphanage. A kind woman's soft voice, her gentle touch. And then... My father. A name. A beast tamer, the greatest among them all.
Beasts.
I froze.
The pieces began to fall together, but it didn't make sense. My father was dead—killed by the very beasts he controlled. But this... this was a different world. A world I had never known.
I closed my eyes and tried to center myself. The pain in my ribs was still there, but it was nothing compared to the confusion racing through my mind.
I was reborn.
This was my second chance. The body I now inhabited belonged to an orphan boy—sold off by an orphanage his dying mother left him in. He was nothing more than a slave, an insignificant tool in the hands of a cruel restaurant owner.
I had been betrayed in my past life, brought low by those I trusted, killed in the most brutal way possible. But now? Now I was back. And I wasn't going to let this life slip away like the last one had.
"Don't just sit there!" The man barked again, his voice laced with disgust. "Move, or I'll beat you harder."
I turned to face the man. He stood over me, his features twisted into a permanent sneer. Sweat glistened on his broad face, and his ragged tunic clung to his bulky frame. He was the owner of this miserable excuse for a restaurant. And he was my master, my tormentor. The one who made my life a waking hell.
I gritted my teeth and stood, my legs wobbling beneath me. The world still swam around me, but the burning fury inside only grew stronger. I wasn't going to let this weak body hold me back. Not again.
The restaurant was a decrepit, filthy place, tucked away in a small village that barely mattered. It was the kind of town travelers passed through on their way to bigger places. A nowhere town, a dead-end stop, just a footnote in the world.
I didn't belong here. I didn't belong in this body.
But the thrill of being able build bigger empires and learn from my mistakes to avoid getting betrayed was too much for me to consider whiling away in self-pity.
I started to move toward the kitchen, my steps slow but deliberate, the weight of my new reality sinking in. My thoughts buzzed. Beast tamers. The beasts.
I needed to understand this world. I needed to understand why I was here.
And most importantly, I needed to survive.
The master spat on the ground and grabbed a rag from the corner. "Clean the tables, brat. Don't make me say it twice."
I nodded, though it felt like my body was on autopilot. My hands reached for the dirty cloth, wiping down a table absentmindedly. My mind was elsewhere, trying to piece together the fragmented memories, trying to make sense of the power I now had inside me.
I had been reborn into this pitiful life, this pitiful body, but the power... It was still there. I could feel it.
And it would rise again.
---
The bell above the door jingled, announcing a new arrival. A man, dressed in a heavy cloak, walked in. His eyes scanned the room, and for some reason, I felt a strange, inexplicable pull toward him.
I didn't know why, but something about him felt... important. Dangerous, even. He didn't belong here, just like I didn't.
He sat down at a corner table, his movements calm and measured. I caught a glimpse of his eyes as he lifted his hood slightly—a pair of cold, calculating eyes that seemed to pierce through everything.
I wiped down the table slowly, trying not to make it obvious that I was watching him. I didn't trust him. There was something off about the way he carried himself. But for the first time since waking up in this body, I felt something stir in me—something that was more than just a thirst for revenge.
Curiosity.
I couldn't explain it, but I knew one thing.
Things were changing. And whatever had brought me back, whatever force had chosen me, it wasn't going to let me stay weak for long.
This world, this miserable place... I would make it mine.
And no one, not even the beast tamers, would stop me.
---
The man's eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, and then he looked away. I wasn't sure if he saw through me, or if I was just another servant to him.
But it didn't matter.
I had no time to waste.
I had a destiny to fulfill.