After careful observation, she was shocked to discover that the corpse belonged to the reincarnation of an ancient pharaoh from a thousand years ago. Because of his greed and cruelty in his previous life, he was born into a poor family in this life. In order to support his family, he had to endure the exploitation of his boss and lived a life of hardship, completely unaware that in a former lifetime he had been a man who controlled the fates of countless others.
A surge of intense guilt enveloped Serapha, wrapping around her like a suffocating shroud. She realized that the man she had just killed was, in fact, an innocent victim. Though he carried the sins of his past life, in this life he had already suffered greatly, repaying his karmic debt in his own way.
This was her first time taking a life—of someone who had not actively harmed her.
Yet she could not deny the truth: part of her power had indeed returned to her! It was the very blood that had been forcibly taken from her when she was imprisoned in a past life, and now, like a long-lost child returning home, it had flowed back into her body. She felt an unprecedented sense of exhilaration, as if every pore of her being was rejoicing in unison.
But at the same time, a powerful sense of guilt clung to her relentlessly. This guilt was like a heavy chain, binding her soul and leaving her unable to breathe. She struggled painfully between the thrill of regaining her strength and the crushing weight of remorse, enduring several sleepless nights.
A voice as gentle as a nightingale said softly,
"Even if he has not committed evil in this life, his true nature is like an unyielding stone—impossible to change. What you did was only precautionary. Look, isn't your body feeling much better now?"
But another voice thundered like a great bell, rebuking her sternly,
"His deeds in this life did not warrant death!"
Finally, after days of inner torment, she made a difficult decision...
Rome, Italy
Serapha stood outside the Colosseum, gazing at the bustling tourists, savoring a gelato as she squinted against the sunlight.
A short, chubby tour guide was sweating profusely, scurrying about like an ant on a hot stove as he apologized profusely to a blonde woman carrying an LV bag. She was a VIP who had booked a private tour, and the guide, trying to squeeze in an extra client earlier, had ended up running late by several minutes. How ironic—the emperor and servant from a past life had completely swapped places in this one.
In the past, he had proudly showcased beasts and men in the Colosseum for entertainment. Now, he made a living by presenting this very arena to tourists, carefully tending to their whims, fearful of receiving a bad review.
Serapha's lips curled into a faint smile, but suddenly, memories from long ago surged through her mind like a rising tide—clanging chains, roaring flames, and the man collapsing in the center of the arena.
She felt as if she had returned to that day, burning everything to ashes like a phoenix reborn, watching those greedy nobles struggle like trapped beasts. A strange thrill and power rose within her heart.
Striking down her enemies—how intoxicatingly satisfying it was.
When she came back to her senses, the crowd around her was already in an uproar. An ambulance sped toward the scene, and the tour guide was being carried away on a stretcher. Meanwhile, several reporters had surrounded the blonde woman, bombarding her with questions. The woman sobbed, her face filled with fear, and trembled as she spoke:
"I... I don't know what happened... He just suddenly collapsed, like that... "
At Serapha's feet, the gelato had already melted into a sticky puddle. Alarmed, she hurriedly left the scene.