Chapter 1: Light at the End of Darkness
The sound of fists. Mocking laughter. The salty taste of his own blood at the corner of his lips. Gevran had grown used to pain. Every day at school was a weaponless battle. And he always lost.
His father was just a factory worker—frail, with breath that reeked of chemicals. His mother? No one knew for sure, but everyone called her a prostitute. Gevran didn't care about the world's labels. All he knew was that in their house, they had one usable chair, one broken stove, and one hope: to survive another day.
School was no better. Gang kids who thought they were special because their parents held low-ranking offices always found reasons to torment him. That day, it was because he accidentally stepped on someone's new shoes. They pushed him from the third-floor staircase.
Gevran's body went limp, collapsing in the middle of the school courtyard. His breath was ragged, his worn uniform soaked in blood. The laughter of the gang faded, replaced by a strange rumble. The sky seemed to crack—and from above, a white-golden light descended and enveloped his body.
In an instant, the world fell silent.
"Gevran," a soft yet powerful voice echoed in his mind.
From the light, a faint figure emerged—not human, but pure divine energy that wrapped his heart in warmth.
"You lived well, though the world gave you nothing. Now, I ask: if you were given a new life, what would you do?"
With the last of his strength, Gevran looked toward the light and answered without hesitation:
> "If I were given a decent life… I'd spend it fighting bullying and defending those who struggle."
Silence. Then, the light grew brighter.
"Your answer… is sincere. Your desire isn't to take revenge, but to protect. Then, receive this new life. Your path won't be easy, but a great destiny awaits you."
Suddenly, the world around Gevran shattered like glass. His body was pulled into a vortex of light, his soul drawn by a force beyond human understanding. Sounds disappeared, pain vanished, and then—
"Hhhh—!"
Gevran awoke.
Cold winter air greeted him. He was no longer the scrawny boy from a poor family. In front of him stood a large mirror with a golden frame. Reflected back at him was a fifteen-year-old boy in silk pajamas, with neatly combed hair and the same face… only fresher, healthier, and stronger.
Outside the room, children's voices could be heard:
> "Oppa! We're having abalone soup for breakfast!"
Gevran stood up slowly. Around him, a luxurious room unfolded—teakwood walls, imported carpet, and a view of Seoul city through the window.
"Where… am I?" he whispered.
Then, the bedroom door opened.
A little girl with a sweet smile ran in and hugged him.
"Oppa, Kaeyan missed you! Let's go out today, okay?"
And that's when he realized.
He had been reborn… as the eldest son of the richest family in South Korea.
Gevran looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was jet black and perfectly styled, his eyes sharp and full of life, his body no longer thin and battered. His hands were smooth—no calluses from labor, no bruises from beatings. It all felt so real… and yet like a dream.
> "Oppa, come on! Papa will be mad if we're late again!"
Kaeyan tugged his hand. The little girl was full of energy, wearing a fluffy jacket. Her face resembled Gevran's—as if she were truly his little sister.
Still slightly unsteady, Gevran followed Kaeyan down a wide, elegant spiral staircase. The walls were lined with paintings, the ceiling high, and the air was filled with the scent of gourmet food.
In the dining room, a middle-aged man sat reading a newspaper. His gaze was sharp, his presence commanding. Beside him sat a graceful woman with a warm smile and an air of leadership. On the table were over a dozen Korean dishes, including abalone, galbi, and fresh fruit.
"Gevran, you're finally up," the man said without looking up.
"Tomorrow we start the campaign interviews for the mayoral election. I expect you to act like the proud eldest son."
Gevran swallowed hard. So… this was his new father? Jido, mayoral candidate of Seoul—rumored to be aiming for the presidency? And the woman beside him… Yi-ana, his new mother, the Head of the Korean Women Farmers' Organization?
Before he could respond, Kasang—his youngest brother—burst in and sat down, excitedly digging into his soup.
"Gevran oppa, play robots with me later, okay?"
This… all felt like another world.
But his memories remained intact—his old father coming home tired and smelling of oil, his mother trying to smile through swollen eyes every night, and a body that never escaped bruises and cuts.
Gevran gripped his spoon tightly.
> "I won't waste this life."
---
After breakfast, a limousine picked Gevran up for school—an elite international academy in Seoul. The driver called him "Young Master," and the teachers welcomed him like nobility.
But as he passed through the school gates, his eyes caught sight of a student being cornered and shoved by a group of other kids.
The boy looked terrified. He apologized for accidentally brushing against one of their sports cars.
Gevran's hand clenched into a fist.
This was his first moment. And without hesitation, he stepped forward.
> "Stop right now," he said, calm but firm.
"That car… now belongs to him."
All the students turned. Including the bullied boy—his eyes wide in disbelief.
Gevran turned to him.
> "What's your name?"
> "…Han Jimin…" he answered quietly.
Gevran gave a small smile.
> "From today, you're my friend."
Gevran walked away from the school gates with firm steps, followed by dozens of stunned gazes. Han Jimin stood frozen, unable to believe someone so bold had stood up for him.
The bullies, once arrogant, now fell silent. No one dared to challenge the eldest son of the Korindro Group—the sole heir of a conglomerate with massive influence in South Korea's business and political worlds.
Inside the car, the driver glanced at Gevran through the rearview mirror.
> "Would Young Master like to go straight home or stop by your father's headquarters?"
Gevran was silent for a moment. His eyes gazed out the window—Seoul in 2005, bustling, cold, and full of possibility.
His left hand clenched. He still remembered his old father's last warm, rough grip. His mother's tearful apology for not being able to protect him. The final blow that brought him here.
> "Home," he replied calmly.
"I need to start writing down my plans today."
The driver only nodded. Behind the young man's calm demeanor was an aura unlike any he had ever seen—not just the heir of a wealthy family, but someone who had come carrying something… immense.
As the car sped through Seoul's traffic, Gevran looked down at his hand.
A new body. A new life. But his heart and mission remained unchanged.
> "Just wait. I'll make this world different."
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