The moment his body hit the pavement, Johan knew it was over. Not because of the pain—there wasn't any. Just a strange stillness. Like the world paused around him, the sound of the honking car, the scream of the child he'd pushed out of the way, the frantic steps of strangers running toward him. Everything slowed.
Darkness came fast. But before it consumed him, something impossible happened.
"You shouldn't be here," a voice said—not with pity, but amusement. "Still… since you are, let's see what you do with it."
When Johan opened his eyes again, he was staring up at a wooden ceiling, old and cracked but warm in the morning light. Birds chirped softly outside. The air was fresh—unnaturally so. He blinked and sat up.
His body felt wrong. Lighter. Smaller. Younger.
There was a mirror leaning against the far wall. He stumbled toward it and stared.
It was him—but not. Younger, maybe ten years old, with sharper cheekbones, black hair just slightly longer than he remembered, and eyes that held a strange silver hue in the sunlight.
He wasn't in Seoul anymore. This was… somewhere else entirely.
The days passed slowly.
He learned the village was small, tucked between mountain ranges and forests so dense they swallowed light. The people wore old-style kimonos. There was no electricity. No phones. No cars. Just silence, broken by the occasional crow or fox cry in the distance.
Johan didn't ask too many questions. He watched. Listened. Learned.
The old man who had taken him in—Genzo—was a retired swordsmith. He said Johan was found unconscious by the riverbank with nothing but a bloodstained haori and strange markings along his back.
Johan didn't remember arriving. But he remembered dying.
And then, one night, it returned.
A low chime echoed in his mind, followed by a voice—cold, mechanical, yet somehow intimate.
[System Activation Complete.]
[Welcome, Johan Seong.]
[Starter Gift Pack Available. Open now?]
He froze.
This wasn't a dream. This wasn't some delusion. This was real.
"…Open it," he whispered.
[Opening Gift Pack…]
Ability Gained: Devour(Absorb target's physical traits, bloodline, techniques, and power without consequence.)
Bloodline Acquired: Primordial Fusion(Allows seamless integration of all bloodlines without rejection.)
Function Unlocked: Quest Log
Function Locked: World Travel
Johan's hands trembled.
"…This isn't just a second chance," he muttered. "It's a test."
That same week, the village was attacked.
It happened during a festival night—paper lanterns still glowing in the dark, laughter in the streets, children dancing around bonfires.
The demon came silently. A blur of motion, blood, and screams.
By the time Johan reached the scene, half the villagers were already dead.
And yet... something inside him was calm. Too calm.
He stepped into the chaos, eyes focused on the monster ahead—eight feet tall, black scales, a long tongue flicking between jagged teeth. Its claws gleamed in the firelight.
It turned toward him and laughed. "Another child to eat?"
Johan didn't respond.
He walked forward.
The air changed.
And then he moved.
He didn't remember drawing the blade Genzo had gifted him weeks before. Didn't remember stepping between the demon's strikes.
But when the beast lunged, Johan ducked low, turned the blade, and—cut.
Clean.
Straight through the neck.
The demon's head rolled to the ground, eyes wide in disbelief.
And as the body began to burn into ash, Johan's vision blurred.
A wave of heat rushed into his chest.
[Devour Activated.]
[Target: Oni-Class Demon (Poison Affinity)][Abilities Absorbed: Enhanced Regeneration, Toxic Blood Mist, Acidic Saliva]
He gasped, staggering back.
His veins pulsed with new strength.
The villagers called him a miracle.
The old man cried tears of joy.
Johan said nothing.
He sat alone in the field where the demon had died, staring at the scorched earth.
A new voice echoed in his mind—soft, tired, but familiar.
"There are worse things than death, boy," it said. "And sometimes, getting a second life means you'll have to watch others lose theirs."
Johan clenched his fists.
"Then I'll make sure they don't."