The streets were full of life.
High school students rushed toward their schools, bags slung over their shoulders, voices loud and careless. Workers moved with tired urgency, coffee in hand, eyes already dulled by routine. Vendors shouted, traffic blared, and the city moved the way it always did fast, indifferent, alive.
Among them walked a man dressed in black.
His pace was hurried, but his eyes were slower, heavier. They looked like they had endured far more than they should have eyes worn down by being ignored, ordered around, and looked past.
"Fuck… I hate this," he muttered under his breath.
Who do they think they are? Ordering me around just because they're 'superior'?
Stupid bitches. Acting like loyal dogs in front of the boss and turning around to bark at me.
His jaw clenched as he approached the road crossing. The signal was about to change. He stepped forward, impatient, wanting nothing more than to get away from the noise, the people, the feeling of being small.
Then
A scream.
A bus came charging down the road at full speed.
Too fast.
Out of control.
Someone was thrown aside like a rag doll. Another body hit the asphalt with a sickening sound. Blood splattered across the street.
His breath caught.
The bus was already too close.
"Fuck fuck !"
Is this really the end?
The impact came before the thought could finish.
His body was lifted off the ground, pain exploding through him as if every bone shattered at once. The world spun violently. The bus didn't stop it slammed into another person before finally crashing into a building with a deafening roar.
Darkness crept in around the edges of his vision.
"Shit… it hurts… it hurts like hell…"
His body lay twisted on the street. Bones broken. Blood spread beneath him, warm and sticky.
Am I really dying like this?
Because of those people who looked down on me?
Was I really just fodder to them?
"I… can't breathe…"
People gathered quickly.
Some shouted.
Some stared.
Some lifted their phones and started recording.
Flashes went off.
"Someone call an ambulance!" a voice yelled.
"Oh god… did he die?" someone whispered.
"He he's breathing, I think," a girl said, unsure.
"Are you stupid?" another voice snapped. "Look at his eyes. There's no life left in them."
They were right.
But they didn't know what the dead knew.
"Huh…?"
His consciousness drifted.
There was no pain anymore.
No body.
He was fallin endlessly through a void that had no size, no direction, no sound. Time meant nothing there. Space meant nothing.
Then it stopped.
A massive black hole appeared before him, silent and absolute.
He didn't have time to react.
It devoured him whole.
Elcard Demon Realm
The Wilderness
His soul tore through something unseen.
A barrier shattered.
And thenn
Pain returned.
Sharp. Immediate. Suffocating.
"H ...huh…?"
His eyes snapped open.
Blood.
The ground beneath him was soaked in it.
My blood.
"I… I can't breathe… am I dying again?"
His chest barely moved. Every breath felt like it was tearing him apart. His body was broken far worse than the accident.
Not crushed by a bus.
But torn apart by something else.
Something had killed him here.
Fragments of memories surged into his mind, foreign yet vivid.
Azael.
That was this body's name.
This place the wilderness of the Demon Realm, Elcard.
Understanding hit him like a hammer.
"Wait… so you're telling me…" his thoughts raced, panicked.
"I died… and reincarnated… into a demon's body?"
Not just any demon.
The memories were cruelly clear.
Azael had no bloodline.
No backing.
No protection.
In Elcard, bloodline and level were everything.
And Azael was
"Level… 3?"
The realization nearly broke him.
"I'm dying the moment I'm reborn…"
His breathing grew weaker. Vision blurred.
Isn't there something?
Don't people get a system when they reincarnate?
"System!" he shouted inside his head.
"Status! Window!"
Nothing.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
His breath began to fail entirely.
Then
A panel appeared.
Not light , not good,not blue.
But covered in blood.
SYSTEM DETECTED
Host identified.
Binding in progress…
Binding successful.
Welcome to the Memory Trade System, Host.
Hope ignited inside him.
"Finally…!"
"What. what is this? Save me first! I'm dying!"
SYSTEM
Memories can be traded for power.
The more precious the memory, the greater the reward.
Do you wish to initiate a memory trade?
Disbelief flooded him.
I'm dying and it's asking for a trade?
But he didn't hesitate.
He understood this world now.
And he understood one thing clearlyb
Weakness meant death.
"System," he thought, forcing clarity through the pain.
"I'll sell my memories."
Specifically
"My two years of childhood memories… from Earth."
SYSTEM CONFIRMATION
Consent detected.
Memory extraction in progress…
Extraction successful.
Reward granted.
Level increased by 50.
The blood around his body trembled.
Power surged through broken flesh.
Bones began to mend.
Breath returned.
And somewhere deep within
Something fundamental changed.
He had lost something he doesn't remember