In the midst of ruins, a young man soon opened his eyes.
His sight was still blurred from the dust and smoke in the air.
He felt pain from his body but no visible injuries could be seen.
"Fuck... where the hell am I?"
He pushed himself up but his hands were still trembling against the uneven ground.
The surroundings were unfamiliar to him.
Huge building made up of metal and the smell of burning flesh and metals.
"Is this hell?"
He gasped as his head felt painful. He clutched his head, trying to prevent it from splitting apart.
"Fuck! What the hell are these memories?"
Memories of faces he didn't recognize. Places that he didn't know at all.
The excruciating pain lasted for five minutes before subsiding.
"Shit… What the hell were those memories?"
They weren't his own memories and he didn't know whose memories were those.
He glanced around one more time and strangely enough, he knew where he was.
He tried to check if it was a dream by pinching his cheek.
But after feeling the pain from it, he realized that this was not a dream.
He also knew what was currently going on from his new memories.
There was only one thing that could happen to him aside from dreaming or waking up in hell.
"Did I just reincarnate into another world?
---
He glanced around to see stable debris and when he found one, he sat down.
He was still struggling to process what was currently happening to him.
He never knew that reincarnation could even happen in his life.
In this world, his current identity was Zain, a normal human with no power.
But his real identity was entirely something else. Far from his current one.
He was the Heavenly Demon, the feared and unmatched ruler of the Heavenly Demon Sect.
But in the end, he still died after being surrounded and killed by the so-called righteous sects who feared his power.
And somehow, he was here. "Tch. I never thought I'd get reincarnated... not to the same world but another one?"
He flexed his fingers, inspecting his new body. It was weak and not trained.
"At least I didn't end up as a damn baby. But seriously, this body? Of all choices, why give me one of the worst cultivation physiques imaginable?"
Zain sighed. It wasn't just his body, but the world itself was also different.
This world was the future of his previous world. But instead of cultivators, there was something else.
Superhumans. Heroes. Villains.
The path of cultivation had been abandoned and replaced by supernatural abilities.
The ones who had these powers were called superheroes and also villains.
This wreckage was the result of the battle between a hero and a villain.
BOOM!
Another explosion appeared not far from him, shaking the ground beneath him.
"Fuck, they're still fighting."
His current body was far too weak to handle this. He needed to escape fast.
"If I remember correctly, my house isn't that far from here."
Gritting his teeth, Zain pushed himself up and forced his leg to run.
He needed to leave this place as fast as possible before he got caught in their fight and killed.
---
Zain arrived at his home, recognizing the familiar and unfamiliar surroundings.
He suddenly recalled the life of this body's original owner, deepening his frown.
It wasn't a good life. Instead, it was a miserable one.
A drunkard father who spent his nights drowning in alcohol and unleashed his frustrations on his family.
A mother who had already passed away.
An older sister, burdened with responsibilities, worked tirelessly just to keep them fed.
And himself, just another wheel in this tragic cycle, struggling to make ends meet.
Another realization also struck him.
"The place I worked at... it was in the middle of that battlefield."
It was gone. Completely destroyed in the battle between hero and villain. And if that was where he had been at the time—
"That must be how this body's owner died."
But here he was. Alive. No visible wounds, as if he had never been injured.
"Why?"
He suddenly reached into his pocket and found something.
He pulled it out and realized that it was a pocket knife.
A smirk soon appeared on his face.
"The boy who owned this body before—he was weak. Afraid. Powerless. But I am not him."
He clenched the knife, looking at his own face in its blade.
"I am the Heavenly Demon."
---
Zain entered the house and his older sister wasn't home yet.
He could smell the alcohol and sweat from the doorway.
He could also hear the sound that his father made in the living room. A groggy and drunken mumble.
Zain's grip around the knife was tightened as he walked forward.
Inside, his father was slumped on the couch, passing out.
An empty bottle rolled on the floor beside him.
His shirt was stained, his face was unshaven and his breath was reeked of alcohol.
He could even smell it from a distance.
Zain's body trembled because of instinctive fear of the original body's emotions.
A deep, ingrained terror that had been beaten into him over the years.
But Zain? He only smirked, ignoring that fear aside like it was nothing.
Not anymore.
He walked silently, stopping on the side of his sleeping father.
He aimed his knife directly at the top of his bastard father's head.
"Father, it's time to become useful... and that's by dying."
He thrust the knife down.
But before it could land, a hand shot up.
Zain was surprised as he saw his father catch the blade mid-air.
His father glanced at the knife, realizing what was happening.
Frowning, he tightened his grip.
CRACK.
The metal crumpled like cheap plastic in his grip.
Zain's breath hitched. "What the fuck!"
His father then hit him in the face before getting up.
"You fucking brat! Are you trying to kill me? Your own father?!"
Zain coughed a bit before wiping the blood from his mouth.
He glared at his father and frowned. "Damn it… To think this bastard actually had some kind of superpower."
It was his mistake. He had never realized it before.
His father sneered down at him, rolling his shoulders.
"Hah! Thought you could stab me? Stupid brat, you're dumber than I thought."
He laughed hard.
"Did you forget whose blood runs through your veins?"
Zain frowned, pushing himself up slowly.
"Yeah... and unfortunately, I was cursed with having your blood."
His father's eye twitched.
"Oh? Got a sharp tongue now, do you? Guess I really haven't been teaching you enough."
He cracked his knuckles, smirking. "Looks like I gotta fix that."
Zain scoffed, shaking off the lingering pain. "Fix what? Your pathetic excuse of a parenting style?"
He raised his middle finger. "Come on then, you fucker. Let's see what kind of lesson you're giving me."
His father frowned as he heard it.
"You really don't know when to shut your mouth, you fucking bastard!"
His bastard father quickly rushed toward him with his fist.
Zain frowned in an instant. "Shit!"