What is failure?
Is it falling in love with the wrong person?
Investing all your money in a bad coin?
Or is it waking up with a hangover so strong it feels like your soul left your body?
For me?
I don't know about failure.
I've never tasted it.
I was always perfect, at least from a human point of view.
Otherwise who really is even absolute perfect, right?
I always had good grades, flawless skin and even the youngest self-made billionaire in the country.
And yet, people talk about "learning from failure" like it's some sacred ritual.
Just pure bullshit.
The only failure I knew was when my phone battery died at 2% during a long flight. That was tragic. I had to talk to an actual breathing human.
But real failure? That kind of heartbreaking, dignity-shattering and gut-wrenching moment?
I didn't have one.
At least, not until I died.
But we'll get there but first, let's rewind a bit. Back to when my life was still painfully perfect.
__
My father died when I was sixteen.
He left me one piece of advice before he passed.
"Son," he said, blood pooling at the corners of his lips, "never sleep with a married woman."
It was sound advice, except he said this after being stabbed by a jealous husband.
Apparently, Dad had a thing for other people's wives.
I wasn't sure if that made him a man of passion or a complete idiot.
Probably both.
He died in the hospital bed with that stupid grin still on his face. One final smirk like he had no regrets.
My mom? She died way earlier. When I was six.
She had a beautiful smile, a gentle voice and warm eyes.
And just like that, she was gone.
No drama. No affairs. Just a weak heart and a cruel twist of fate.
I waited for her at the door every evening, hoping she would come back… but she never did.
After that, I was alone.
But I didn't cry about it. Or maybe I did. But who remembers really?
I decided early on—if life was going to be bitch, I'd just be better than life.
So I worked harder and smarter.
And by twenty-four, I had made history.
A legacy.
Founder of MythCore Studios.
Creator of "Legacy: Rewritten" — the highest-grossing RPG in the world.
A game that redefined fantasy gaming, built by yours truly.
Critics called it 'brilliant' and players called it 'addictive'.
I was featured in every business magazine with my jawline angled just right.
People called me a genius.
A prodigy.
An asshole.
All true.
__
The room around me smelled like last night's perfume and expensive regret.
Golden sunlight was spilling across a silk blanket.
Beside me lay a woman. Naked, beautiful and still asleep.
Oh. Right.
Last night's "networking event."
She had approached me at the bar, laughing too loud at my jokes. I pretended to care about her startup idea.
One thing led to another. And here we are.
I sat up, rubbing my temples.
Fucking headache.
But it wasn't from guilt—just the hangover.
I glanced at her. She had a tattoo on her back. Something poetic. Probably French. I didn't care enough to read it.
Her name? Irrelevant.
I slipped out of bed, walking across the marble floor and pulled on my shirt.
__
Outside, my two bodyguards stood waiting like statues. One had sunglasses. The other had a face like he'd never laughed in his life.
My secretary, Jiyun, greeted me with a bow.
"Good morning, CEO Rael."
"Hmm," I muttered, slipping into the car.
"Should I handle the woman in the apartment?" she asked, tablet in hand and her tone dry.
"Yeah," I said. "Give her the usual gift bag. Add an envelope."
"Black or gold card?"
"Gold. She wasn't that amazing."
Jiyun didn't laugh. She never did.
"Yes, sir."
I liked Jiyun. She was sharp, quick and completely unaffected by me. If I got hit by a meteor, she would probably check her calendar before calling an emergency.
She passed me my schedule.
"Speech at the Future Leaders High School at ten. Lunch with the Minister of Technology at twelve. Interview with Global TV at four."
"Any time for a nap?" I asked.
"No."
"Cruel."
"You asked me to be efficient."
It was indeed true. I did.
__
The school was just another elite private academy for rich kids and geniuses.
I didn't particularly care for kids, but I had a schedule to keep and I enjoyed hearing myself talk more than I hated teenagers.
Also, I was so fucking bored.
If I had my way, I would rather curl up in my penthouse and check the new map I added in my game.
But nope.
I was here, in a stiff suit, giving a speech to high schoolers who probably didn't care.
I walked up to the stage to polite and robotic applause.
Fixed my cuffs and adjusted the mic with a smirk.
"Good morning, future CEOs, presidents and salarymen. I'm here to talk about success. Spoiler alert: it's more fun than failure."
Some chuckled. Most didn't. Standard.
I continued anyway with my polished, witty and arrogant speech.
It was enough to keep them listening, charming enough not to get booed off stage.
That's balance.
By the end of it, they were clapping harder. Maybe because they liked it. Maybe because it was finally over.
I stepped off stage.
That's when a man approached.
He wore a faded gray jacket and glasses that looked like they belonged to someone else.
He had a thin face and weary eyes.
He gave me a shallow nod.
"Mr. Rael Do you have a moment?"
Probably a teacher. He looked like one. He had that tired and underpaid aura.
"Sure," I said. "Make it fast."
He led me some distance away from the crowd.
My bodyguards followed, casually alert.
Then it happened.
He lunged.
The knife came from his sleeve.
My bodyguards moved quicker.
A scuffle. Elbow to the face.
The man hit the ground, his knife slipping away.
"Seriously?" I said, brushing imaginary dust from my blazer. "You try to kill me after the Q&A session?"
The man glared up at me, his lip bleeding.
"You slept with my wife," he hissed.
I blinked.
"I'm sorry—what?"
"You think you're untouchable? That you can just ruin people's lives?"
"Hold on," I raised a brow. "I have a rule, actually, I don't sleep with married women. I ask them beforehand."
Unless…
Someone had lied.
Well wouldn't be the first.
The man laughed. Quietly and bitterly.
"I already lost everything I held dear."
"I watched her delete every photo of us the night after she met you. You erased me with one smile."
His eyes weren't angry anymore. They were broken. Shattered in a way that made the air around him feel cold.
Then he smiled.
It wasn't a happy smile. It was the kind you see on a man who's already jumped off the cliff and is just enjoying the fall.
"I won't leave you in peace either."
I narrowed my eyes. "So what? You take me with you and we call it even?"
He chuckled and pulled his shirt down.
"Surprise, surprise, motherfucker."
I saw it.
For a half second, my brain refused to register.
Red light. Blinking. Strapped to his chest.
Holy shit. I need to run.
The guards shouted.
I turned and tried to run.
"Fuck—"
BOOM.
Silence.
Darkness.
Nothing.
And that's how my life ended fellas…or that should have happened.