And here, I could hear the voices of so-called readers, beings I suspected to exist on a higher plane.
Gods, perhaps.
At the very least, no ordinary being could manipulate lives and observe them purely for entertainment.
All of these "readers" unanimously supported one person: Han Seo-Jun, the punk who killed me while I was weakened.
I once believed every action I took, every word I spoke, and every belief I held was my own choice.
But after spending so long here, doubt crept in.
Was it really true?
I watched Han Seo-Jun's entire life alongside those readers.
Born to an explorer father and a commoner mother, raised in warmth and love.
He lost his father in a dungeon at age twelve, then resolved to become an explorer to search for him.
Yet even in loss, his father left behind enormous wealth, ensuring his path was smooth from the very beginning.
I watched him use his awakened clone skill to raid dungeons.
Every clone gained real combat experience and loot, feeding that knowledge directly back to his real body.
When his clones trained in martial arts, his real body learned effortlessly.
How could such an absurd ability exist?
Unlike me, who risked my life every single day, this so-called MC barely faced true danger.
Opportunities fell into his lap, rare loot, secret arts, divine artifacts, heavenly pets, overpowered skills.
Was this a joke?
Han Seo-Jun was spoon-fed by these gods themselves, while countless people like me fought tooth and nail just to survive at his age.
And the question that tormented me most,
Why him?
Why was he chosen by the gods?
Why not me?
Why not others far more capable than him?
I died to a sheltered child protected by divine favoritism.
Rage boiled in my chest as I watched the readers rejoice over my death.
I saw my secret manual for body reconstruction, my hard-earned reward, fall into his hands.
And I could do nothing.
I had accepted my death before.
Now, I wanted to tear that brat apart.
This wasn't just unfair to me, it was unfair to everyone.
If people like us had been given those opportunities, we would have crushed him without effort.
I couldn't accept it.
By the judgment of these gods, I hadn't died because I was weak, but because of plot?
Was I wrong?
Were my beliefs wrong?
"Haha… I'm looking forward to seeing how Han Seo-Jun improves with body reconstruction."
"At least that guy dropped something valuable for the MC…"
Hearing those remarks, I crushed my doubts.
No.
My beliefs weren't wrong.
The ones at fault were these motherfucking gods.
They twisted my childhood, warped my personality, cast me as a villain for their plot, and used me to strengthen Han Seo-Jun.
Yes, I lost because I was weaker.
But the truly strong one was not Han Seo-Jun.
It was them.
Just thinking about how they toyed with my life ignited endless rage.
Villain? Murderer? Beast deserving death?
If I had the power, I would kill every last one of them.
I didn't care if their levels were a thousand, ten thousand, or a million.
If I were reborn, I would climb until I crushed them with my bare hands.
My vision blurred,
And a new scene appeared.
An abusive couple. A crying child.
My childhood.
The drunkard father who forced his son to sell drugs for alcohol.
The mother who looked away as her child was beaten.
"I told you to buy Veeran brand, not this trash!"
The slap came instantly.
The voice was extremely vivid, so much so that the vision began to feel as if I were truly there, being beaten.
"Augh…!"
The sheer force sent me flying from where I had been standing to the floor.
A startled gasp escaped my mouth, not because of the sudden attack, but because of the pain.
I felt it.
Pain?
I stared at my surroundings in disbelief.
What the hell?!
No, this wasn't the void.
What the hell was going on?
How could I feel pain?
Looking around, I noticed lifelike details everywherethe TV, the sofa, the furniture, the crappy house, the damaged floor.
A black-haired woman sat on the sofa, watching a drama on TV without even bothering to look back.
"Oi, what the hell are you looking around for? I'm talking to you!"
As I tried to stand up, the angry man kicked me again, knocking me back to the floor.
"AUHG…!"
Another painful grunt escaped my mouth as the kick slammed into my stomach.
Coughing and gasping for air, I looked up at the man, black hair, brown eyes, staring back at me with intense rage.
He stepped toward me again, stomping heavily, clearly about to strike once more.
'What the hell is going on?! Why does this feel so real?!'
Was this a new way to torture me?
First, this space showed me how Han Seo-Jun lived happily compared to me, and now it was forcing me to relive my own life, when I was beaten helplessly.
Intense rage filled my eyes as I shouted without realizing it.
"Fuck this vision… Fuck everything… Fuck you all…"
Hearing my outburst, the man froze for a moment before grinning menacingly.
"What the hell did you just say?"
Clenching his fist, he threw a punch straight toward my face.
This was the moment I hated the most in my life, the time when I was a child, beaten daily by my jerk parents for no fucking reason.
I hated that feeling more than anything: powerlessness.
I clenched my fists.
Familiar energy surged from my body.
The heavy sensation vanished instantly, replaced by a warm current flowing through me.
"If only I had power at this moment of my life… I would've fucking killed you all…"
Those words came from the deepest part of my heart.
I slightly dodged the man's punch and threw a counterattack toward his chest.
Even though I was a child in this vision, I still possessed all my memories and combat experience.
There was no way I would take a hit from such a clumsy punch.
Because of the height difference, I couldn't reach his face or head, I could only strike his chest.
My punch landed cleanly.
Crunch.
A sound I knew all too well, the sound of muscles tearing and bones crushing.
A smirk formed on my lips as a deeply satisfying sensation spread through my body.
****