"How can this be?!" Jack stared at his mother, his heart pounding as shock coursed through him.
He had checked once, then twice, yet the truth remained the same.
The bloodline flowing through her veins was different from his.
A pit formed in his stomach as he expanded his divine sense, scanning his father and two sisters.
The result was identical. They weren't related to him—not by blood.
Jack clenched his fists, his breath unsteady. There was only one possible explanation.
"Ding!" Without hesitation, he froze time itself, silencing the world around him.
His trembling legs gave out, and he collapsed into a dining chair, forcing himself to stay still.
If he let his emotions run wild, if he lost control even for a second, he could shatter this entire world with a mere thought.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down.
Only once his mind was steady did he trace the past, unraveling the truth hidden in the flow of time.
And there it was.
A careless nurse—one brief, thoughtless mistake—had swapped two newborns at birth.
Jack's expression darkened. He felt an odd mix of relief and frustration. The pieces finally fit together.
"Damn," he muttered, rubbing his temple.
"No wonder I look so hideous compared to the rest of my family." His voice was laced with bitterness.
"I'm really not their son."
His fingers tightened around the edge of the table, a deep rage stirring within him.
He wanted to find that nurse, make her suffer, make her regret the day she ever laid hands on him.
But then what?
Would punishing her change anything? Would it rewrite the past?
No.
Jack let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. Revenge was pointless.
His real parents were out there somewhere, living lives they never knew had been altered.
And the family who had raised him—the people who had loved him as their own—they were still here.
So the real question was…
What should he do now?
"I wonder what happened to my real parents," Jack mused, his voice quiet as he activated his divine sense once more, tracing the threads of history.
The answer came to him almost instantly.
His mother had died in childbirth.
Jack felt a strange pang in his chest, an emotion he couldn't quite place.
He had never met this woman, never even known of her existence until now, yet the thought of her dying alone in some cold hospital room, never getting the chance to hold her child, stirred something deep within him.
And his father?
Jack's jaw tightened as he followed the past further.
His so-called real father was nothing more than a coward—an irresponsible man who, upon learning about the pregnancy, had fled without a trace, never to be seen again.
Jack scoffed.
"Figures," he muttered.
"The bastard ran off the moment things got tough."
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips.
"No wonder I turned into a dumb drunk in my past life."
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the frozen world around him.
He had lived for 69 years, accomplishing nothing of worth.
Failure after failure, mistake after mistake—his entire existence had been a miserable joke.
And now, seeing where he had come from, it all made sense.
He was born from misfortune, raised in the wrong family, carrying the burden of a fate that was never truly his.
Jack exhaled slowly, pushing those thoughts aside. He wasn't done yet.
There was still one more question lingering in his mind.
"What happened to Mom's real child?"
His divine sense surged forward, unraveling the truth in mere moments.
The girl who was meant to be here in his place had been adopted into a wealthy family.
She had lived a privileged life, surrounded by love and security.
Her parents adored her, provided for her, and ensured she never wanted for anything.
She had never known struggle, never tasted the bitterness of poverty or failure.
Jack let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"At least she's okay," he murmured.
Relief settled in his chest, but it did little to ease the lingering sense of disbelief.
His mind struggled to fully accept the absurdity of it all.
"So things like this really do happen," he muttered, rubbing his temples.
"I thought baby swaps were just overused drama cliches."
Yet here he was—living proof that reality could be just as ridiculous as fiction.
Jack clenched his fists. Fate had toyed with him once again, just as it always had.
The cruel irony of his situation left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Fuck," he growled, cursing the nurse who had made the mistake all those years ago.
A single careless act had changed the course of his entire life.
And now, he had to decide what to do next.
"Should I revive my real mom?" Jack mused aloud, staring at the frozen world around him.
The power to do so was already in his hands.
No, it was beyond that—he had reached a level where he could create entire multiverses from mere imagination and breathe life into them.
Compared to such a feat, bringing back a single person from the dead was nothing.
For a brief moment, the idea tempted him. It would be so easy.
A mere thought, and she would be standing before him, alive once more.
But then, Jack exhaled and shook his head.
"No. Let the dead rest in peace," he decided.
With his divine sense, he had already traced her soul's journey.
She had long since passed through the cycle of reincarnation and was now thriving in another universe.
Unlike in her past life, this time she had been granted extraordinary luck—born into wealth, surrounded by love, and blessed with the halo of a protagonist.
Jack found some comfort in that. At least, in this life, she was truly happy.
Still, he had to be sure.
Click!
With a flick of his fingers, the fabric of reality shifted, and a humanoid shadow materialized before him, kneeling the moment it took form.
"Thank you for granting me life, Master," the entity intoned, its voice an eerie whisper.
"No need for thanks. I have a task for you."
Jack waved his hand, and the air beside him shimmered, revealing an image of an exceptionally beautiful young woman—his mother in her new life.
She was breathtaking, with long golden hair cascading down her back, flawless porcelain skin, and a figure that could make goddesses envious.
She exuded an aura of grace and charm, the kind that made it impossible to believe she had once been just an ordinary woman in a different world.
"Protect this woman at all costs," Jack ordered, his voice firm.
"But never let her know of your presence. She must never realize you exist."
The shadow bowed even lower, pressing its forehead to the ground.
"I hear and obey, Master."
Without another word, it dissolved into the void, vanishing from sight.
Jack leaned back, satisfied.
"That should be enough. Mom will be safe and happy."
His gaze shifted beyond the frozen world before him, his divine sense stretching into the vast, endless multiverse.
Countless realms unfolded before him, each brimming with life, power, and unimaginable wonders.
And within these realms resided the so-called apex beings—true immortals who had conquered death, entities who had transcended mortality, beings revered as gods across countless dimensions.
Yet, as Jack observed them, an undeniable truth settled in his mind.
They were nothing.
Even if all the true immortals of the multiverse banded together, even if they used every forbidden technique and unleashed their full might, they wouldn't even scratch him.
He had surpassed them all.
The realization sparked curiosity.
"Should I test it?" Jack murmured, tapping his fingers against the table.
He scanned the multiverse for a worthy target—an evil true immortal, one who had committed countless atrocities, enslaved entire planets, and wreaked havoc across dimensions without remorse.
Jack found one in an instant.
"Let's see…"
He focused on the being's existence and willed it to end.
Poof!
The true immortal exploded in a burst of blood mist. No resistance. No last words.
Not even a lingering soul fragment remained. He had been erased from reality itself.
Jack smirked. "Yup. I'm OP indeed."
The sheer ease of it all amused him.
People always talked about struggle, about how hardship built character, about how one needed to endure suffering to become strong.
But to Jack, those were just empty words.
The ones who preached such nonsense had probably never experienced true suffering.
They didn't know what it was like to be powerless, to be at the mercy of a cruel and uncaring world.
Strength wasn't just a tool—it was the only thing that truly mattered.
And now, Jack had more than enough of it.
"Now, I can finally correct the mistakes of the past and live a happy life," Jack said, his voice tinged with a mix of relief and determination.
He looked up at his mom, who stood frozen in time.
Jack's gaze unconsciously drifted over her figure.
She was dressed casually, but the years had been kind to her, and her presence carried a maturity that was impossible to ignore.
His eyes lingered for a moment too long, and he felt a sudden, unwelcome stirring within him.
His breath hitched, and his eyes widened in shock at his body's reaction.
"Fuck me!" he cursed out loud, his face flushing with embarrassment and shame.