We humans all live our lives in different ways. We strive to live the best lives and survive in the best way possible. But why do people have to live like this? What purpose drives them to put in so much effort to face and conquer this thing we call life? If someone were to ask such questions, everyone would provide answers in their own ways or dismiss it as a ridiculous and baseless question.
In truth, those who put their all into living a meaningless life seem rather amusing to me. They claim they live for their family, their loved ones, and their friends with baseless lies to justify their existence. They give it various names and labels, but in reality, everyone is striving to survive for their own ego. If I were to say this out loud, most people, especially those claiming to put in their utmost effort for their loved ones, would vehemently disagree. But those very people are merely striving for their own satisfaction under the guise of caring for others. Ultimately, humans only know how to act in a way that brings comfort and happiness to their own minds. No matter how much one denies it, the end result always boils down to a sense of inner satisfaction, whether good or bad. That is why people strive to elevate their lives as much as possible. Some are even swept away by fleeting moments of happiness and temporary pleasures.
When you consider everything, all our efforts are essentially for ourselves. The truth can be bitter. It can't simply be dismissed by refusing to believe it. You can't escape the truth, no matter how you try to rationalize it with various perspectives. Right now, everything you're striving for is ultimately for yourself and no one else. Even when you claim to work hard for the happiness of your loved ones, deep down, it's about making yourself content. In other words, it's all for you. Their happiness gives you the satisfaction you desire, so you work hard to ensure their happiness as a way to bring peace to yourself.
Even claiming that you would sacrifice your life for someone you love — leaving your own life as less important — can be viewed as irrational or absurd. Think about the protagonists from those stories who say, "I'll save everyone. I'll protect everyone." Don't their actions seem laughably misguided? Heroes willing to sacrifice for everyone? In truth, such people should be called self-deceivers, those blind to their own ego but wanting to be saviors of others. They live as so-called "protagonists of the greater good." Compared to them, I have more respect for people who accept their ego and live solely for themselves. They'll do anything for their own benefit, love only themselves, and stay cold-hearted yet resilient. In stories, such people are usually the villains. But honestly, they deserve more admiration than the so-called noble heroes who claim they'd sacrifice everything for others.
Of course, as with everything else, human flaws exist in all roles. No matter how emotionless or selfish a villain may appear, those who overestimate themselves to the point they can't see their own weaknesses ultimately fall under the heroes' strength in the end. Likewise, so-called protagonists often fall victim to the flaws of their loved ones and succumb to the schemes of villains. The only difference is that, in every story, no matter how powerful the villains are, they always lose to the heroes in the end. No matter how beaten down and weak the protagonist is, they rise and triumph in the final act. Regardless of how predictable it is, people still gravitate toward such stories. Why, I wonder, do people love these types of stories so much?
Regardless of all this, I'm not siding with the villains either. I'm on nobody's side. Like I said before, I'm someone who simply lives for myself. I can't be controlled by anyone or anything, nor will I submit to any force trying to control me. I live for myself, not seeking to harm others unless they bring trouble my way—in which case, I'll go to any extent to destroy everything relating to them if it satisfies me.
You ask why I've turned out this way? It's because, ever since I was a child, I was raised on those pointless hero stories.
When I was just a newborn baby, my biological parents—whose faces I don't even know—tried to kill me. Shortly after I was born, they threw me into a river, hoping to get rid of me. But things didn't go as they had planned. Instead of drowning, I floated along the current and ended up stuck in a fishing net aboard a fisherman's boat. I screamed and cried for survival. The boat's owners, a husband and wife, found me and adopted me. To me, they were nothing short of gods. Without children of their own, they treated me well and loved me as if I were their own son.
My adoptive mother used to tell me bedtime stories every night about noble heroes who sacrificed for the greater good. Back then, I adored those stories. When I turned five, my adoptive mother became pregnant. Having struggled with infertility for so long, she and her husband were overjoyed. I, too, was thrilled at the thought of finally having a playmate after being alone for all those years.
But my happiness was short-lived. My adoptive mother gave birth to a son, and soon after that, everything changed. The kind, gentle woman who used to read me bedtime stories started to neglect me. My adoptive father, who once cared deeply for me, began to treat me harshly and unkindly. They no longer had any place in their lives to care about me; their attention was solely on their biological child. Slowly, they began to abuse me. Whenever I didn't do the chores I was tasked with perfectly, I was beaten countless times. Though they still fed me, it felt like they kept me alive only to treat me like a slave.
It was like my entire world crumbled. Was it because I wasn't their real child? Had God—the very deity they seemed to believe in—abandoned me too? Over time, I wasn't just a member of their family but rather an extra pair of hands meant to handle their rough labor. From that moment on, I lost all faith in people and, more than that, in anything resembling God. I began to hate those ridiculous hero stories that claimed self-sacrifice brought happiness. I began to despise the idea of noble heroes altogether.
Despite this, I never fought back. Even though they abused me, I simply endured their torment, silently shedding tears but never responding. I didn't want to owe them anything. For five years, I worked tirelessly for them, paying off an invisible debt that seemed to keep me chained to them. Even when I turned ten, I kept working and endured every bit of suffering, believing that, someday, my debt would be repaid. But apparently, all my efforts weren't enough.
My adoptive father sold me off to human traffickers through smugglers he knew. That wasn't part of the deal I had imagined for repaying my so-called debt. It was the height of cruelty. That very night, before I could be handed over to the traffickers, I used a kitchen knife, which I had always quietly kept an eye on, to stab my adoptive father in the neck and kill him. It wasn't hard to do at all. After years of silently enduring abuse, they had let their guard down, assuming I couldn't stand up for myself. Killing him was surprisingly easy. Even though it was my first time killing someone, I felt no fear or hesitation. In my mind, I was simply reclaiming what was owed to me.
I wanted to kill my adoptive mother as well, but she was lucky and escaped. Not because I pitied her, but because I worried that their biological son would end up like me—alone and struggling to survive with no one to care for him. It wasn't compassion, but I didn't want anyone else to endure what I had gone through. After all, he hadn't done anything to harm me; he was just an innocent child who understood nothing.
As I stood there watching him cry beside his mother, I sighed heavily. My adoptive mother, on the other hand, screamed hysterically as she looked at her husband's blood-soaked body lying in a pool of red. But I had just cleared my debt.
I searched my adoptive father's pockets and found his phone lying there. I unlocked it and dialed a number. Once someone picked up on the other end, I slowly spoke:
"Alright... You can come and take me now. Just make sure you bring the money you promised."
__________________________
In the darkness, a bright red eye was staring at me. Where am I now? According to my memory, I had fallen from a high building and died. At that moment, suddenly, I heard a voice coming from the thing staring at me, "Human, you are a cursed evil being chosen by me."
"But why should I be an evil being?" I asked. "I will explain it to you now. You are my chosen one. I am the Immortal Lord Darwin. I can help you be reborn into a new life. In this world, you will gain the success, fame, and power that everyone desires..." These words made my heart race and filled me with excitement.
"Are you really telling the truth? Don't try to deceive me with lies," I said.
The voice from the red eye grew stronger, and then it shouted loudly, "Ha ha ha, listen to me carefully! Before you reach the gates of death, I've already pulled your soul out and saved you. As I said, I will give you another chance in a different world. But as a price, once you are reborn, you will need to save that world."
"Save the world? What kind of world? Like a hero in a story?" I asked. "That's much more than a simple tale."
"Yes, you will need to save that world from everything," the voice answered. "Your enemies there are the rebels and sinners. You will need to face them and protect the believers. This is the price you must pay."
Without any further hesitation, I accepted, "Alright. I accept. I will receive the power to fight for you."
Suddenly, it felt as if something sharp was piercing through my body, as if countless needles were being driven into me. The pain was unbearable, but slowly, I began to feel power building up, as if it was growing inside me. My pain eventually faded, and soon, my body was glowing with bright red light, and I felt an overwhelming surge of power, one I had longed for. I couldn't contain my joy and excitement and let out a huge yell.
"Very well. From now on, you will be known as Harvet ChrisLatham, the legendary savior," the voice declared. "Your purification begins now."
I was pulled into an endless dark abyss. Then, a soft light appeared in the distance, and I focused on it. Slowly, the light grew bigger and clearer. "Congratulations, Lord Chris. A new heir has been born. May the ChrisLatham family endure forever," a voice praised from afar.
At that moment, Alfred burst through the door of a room and ran toward me. Before him, on a bed wrapped in red cloth, was a smiling woman holding a baby. He looked at the baby carefully and said, "This child... it looks just like me. Look closely, this is the heir who will carry on my legacy."
Lady Lavender did not speak but simply rocked the baby gently to sleep.
Everything felt so surreal. I wanted to escape, to live a life free from death and rebirth, a life without suffering. Could such a life be possible? While thinking, I realized that I was severely wounded and dying. But I wanted to be free from this cycle. Would I get my freedom or would the inevitable death come to me? Would I face vengeance for the pain I caused?
In the end, it was death that came for me, and I followed it into its embrace.
After what felt like an eternity, I found myself gasping for air. When I opened my eyes, I saw myself in a place I had never been before. Was I dead? Where was I? I tried to stand up but my legs were too weak, and I stumbled. After several attempts, I managed to walk, albeit unsteadily. Looking down, I noticed that my body had transformed, looking like that of a child, barely 12 years old. The place I found myself in was filled with filth and destruction, and as I looked around, I saw dead bodies and strange, terrifying creatures.
"What is this place?" I muttered. My voice echoed in the empty space, and I could hear the sound of my own breath loudly in the silence. I decided to leave this place and explore outside. As I walked down the desolate road, I encountered more horrifying sights, including the head of a giant creature. Its bloodied body was scattered across the road, and I pulled something out from inside it. To my surprise, it was a large weapon, something I could use to protect myself.
As I walked through this destroyed city, I came across an enormous body of water. Nearby, a child's body lay in the blood-soaked water, and the sight struck me deeply. I looked into the water, and it dawned on me that my own reflection was that of a different person. I realized
"So, this is another world where I've been reborn"