"Bro, it's really gotten this expensive?"
A slim brown-haired boy complained about the rising prices. A blond-haired boy tapped him on the shoulder.
"Let's just grab something to eat."
The blond boy looked more muscular than the brown-haired one — and older.
Then an announcement came on, heard by everyone in the supermarket.
"We're closing in 15 minutes. Please hurry."
The announcement ended, and the brown-haired boy ran off through the cold supermarket.
"Mike, wait..."
The brown-haired boy opened a drawer. He stuck his hand inside and felt the cold. He pulled out a medium-sized pizza with cheese and everything else on it.
"What do you think, Leon?"
The blond boy just nodded with a sigh.
"If you keep this up, you'll have to actually move around and stop staying in your room all the time, Mike."
"Yeah yeah, Leon..."
The brothers kept bickering as they left the store.
Mike stepped onto the street, saying something to Leon, which distracted him from seeing the approaching car.
Mike was already halfway across the street when he turned to look at Leon one last time.
"Mikeee!"
Mike turned his head forward and felt the warmth of the car's headlights.
No chance to dodge.
The car hit him directly.
A loud impact — Mike was dragged under the car.
Darkness. Just black.
But was that the end?
A flash of red. Then a blinding white light.
Mike felt like he was falling — and then he woke up.
Mike opened his eyes.
"Leon... where am I?"
He heard loud clanging sounds — metal, perhaps.
Mike opened his eyes again. No light. Only shadows.
"W-what the..."
A mine. Many people. Many of them bloody, hanging onto chains, wrists shackled.
Slaves?
They were hacking away at ore with pickaxes, groaning in pain.
Mike stood up. His legs were shaking as he looked around. Slowly, his vision became clearer.
He saw a massive mine. Apparently, Mike was deep inside it.
He spotted five men dressed in black. Each had a whip and a sword at their hip. Their expressions were cold and angry — cold like the air in the mine.
Mike turned his gaze to a pickaxe lying nearby.
He stepped forward and picked it up.
But that's when he saw it — he was chained too.
His hands were wounded and bloody.
"Am I... also a slave? Wait, what even happened? I was..."
Suddenly, one of the five men stood next to Mike.
"You. Work now."
The whip cracked through the air.
It made a sound Mike would not soon forget.
The man raised the whip again — this time, it struck Mike's back.
The lash tore open his skin.
"Arghh!"
Mike fell to his knees.
"And now work, or you'll get three more."
The man walked away.
"Trash."
Mike didn't understand any of this.
He was a slave now? Not dead?
That could only mean one thing.
Rebirth — as a slave.
Great.
Blood dripped from Mike's back. He felt a strange warmth there.
As Mike stood up, he picked up the pickaxe again. It hurt to grip it.
"Hey, you. I haven't seen you before. Did they catch you recently?"
A muscular slave spoke to Mike. He was pale, as if he hadn't seen sunlight in ages.
"Yeah... I'm actually new here."
"Good. Lightblood, devilblood, or a hybrid? What are you?"
Mike couldn't follow what the slave meant.
"How can I tell?"
"Hold out your palm."
Mike did so. It burned.
He looked and saw a symbol in the center of his hand — a scar, branded into his skin.
"W-what is that..."
"Huh... I've never seen a mark like that," the muscular slave said.
It was the symbol of a hybrid — but altered.
Then the muscular slave leaned closer and spoke quietly.
"We're planning to fight back. Whether we win or not, we're done working. In fact, it's happening now. Since we have the pickaxes..."
Mike froze.
A loud scream echoed.
A slave — skinny, eyes sunken and tired — was on the ground, being whipped.
The slave next to Mike spoke again.
"It's starting."
The first slaves rushed past Mike, who was forced to move with them because of the chain.
The first group of slaves stabbed one of the men in black clothing. They stole his equipment — his sword — and shouted one word over and over.
"Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!"
They pulled Mike deeper into the mine.
There stood three more men dressed in black, swords drawn.
"So, you want freedom, do you?"
One of the men swung his sword down, slicing into the leg of a small, skinny slave.
A scream of pain echoed through the mine. The man pulled the sword from the slave's leg as blood dripped from both the blade and the wound.
"This will happen to the rest of you too."
But the slaves didn't back down. In fact, they looked even more determined.
They charged forward. The stones of the mine shook.
In the next moment — metal clashing.
Pickaxes against swords.
Mike was splattered with blood.
He wiped his face with his hand, smearing the warm liquid away.
Gripping the pickaxe in both hands, Mike stepped forward and joined the fight.
He struck a guard in the back with the pickaxe, which stunned him, leaving him vulnerable.
Three slaves immediately jumped on him, each holding a pickaxe in one hand.
That was the end of that guard.
Mike turned to the muscular slave from earlier.
"A-are there more guards? And... where even are we?"
"Did you hit your head or something? Come on, let's go."
A few slaves had survived and were running down the mine tunnels, all of them armed with blood-stained pickaxes.
There — a light.
The exit.
"Stop!"
Fifteen guards stood blocking the way, all dressed in black armor from head to toe.
But the slaves had made their choice.
Freedom.
They all charged at the guards.
Mike was knocked to the ground, blood pouring over him.
He felt a heavy boot strike the back of his head.
Everything went black.
The last thing Mike heard was:
"Not him. He's a triple hybrid — extremely rare. He'll sell for a high price."
What was happening here? And why?
Why was I reborn into this world?
Mike opened his eyes and saw a wooden ceiling.
He jolted upright and looked around. On the wall were paintings — and a door.
Then a man dressed in white entered the room.
"Good, hybrid. Thanks to my energy, you survived. You were stabbed in the stomach."
Had Mike not even noticed?
"Magic?"
"Yes, magic."
The doctor opened his hand, and a green orb hovered above his palm before vanishing.
"You must be confused. You should rest. But not here.
You came from the mine.
You're being sold to the royal family. Usually worse than the mines, for someone like you.
A triple hybrid..."
"WHAT THE HELL?"
Three guards entered the room. They grabbed Mike and carried him into a caravan, throwing him in with three other slaves.
One of them was the muscular slave — though now he was missing an eye. The other two were asleep.
"We're being sold," the muscular one said.
"Ah, you're wondering what happened to my eye?"
"...It happened during the escape attempt."
The man grinned. He looked a bit older — mid-twenties.
Mike lay down as best he could.
"Rest now?"
As Mike closed his eyes, he found himself somewhere else.
It was hot — so hot that his skin began to feel like it was melting.
"Where am I?"
"You're with me. That's all that matters."
"You only need to know two things about me."
A voice spoke.
Mike saw only lava around him. But through the lava, he made out two horns.
"Good. I am a demon.
And I have a deal for you.
But first — you are a triple-blood.
Lightblood. Devilblood. Dragonblood."
Dragonblood — extremely rare.
"And I want revenge on the Demon King in your world.
He banished me here — to Hell.
I know, mortal — you're not from this world.
But that's enough explanation for now.
I will give you power.
Magic — shadow magic.
My own legendary weapon — the Dark Sword.
And your forgotten life back.
Kill three great souls for me, so I can leave this Hell.
Make your decision before midnight."
Mike felt a slap across his face.
"Wake up, bastard. We're here."