Riku Amagami stared at the ceiling of his penthouse office, the city lights of Tokyo glittering beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. His hand twirled a fountain pen between two fingers as a screen in front of him displayed a flawless presentation—the latest quarterly profit of his software empire had shattered projections by nearly 200%. Again.
"Estimated Net Worth: ¥72.6 billion," the headline read.
"Seventy-two point six," Riku muttered, leaning back into the chair. He blinked. His body was sculpted from gym work and private trainers. His suit was custom-made Italian silk. His IQ measured in the upper echelons of recorded human history. At just 25 years old, he had everything he was told to chase: wealth, respect, power, even fame.
And yet…
*I feel nothing.*
The silence was deafening. Not because it was loud—but because it never changed. There were no challenges left. No rivals. No reason.
In his free time, he picked apart chess grandmasters like amateurs. He'd climbed Everest at 22. He'd written a bestselling book at 19, automated his businesses at 23, and ghosted every romantic partner who couldn't keep up intellectually.
He was rich, tall, strong, and brilliant.
And utterly empty.
His phone buzzed. He ignored it.
"You're needed at PrimeTech Investments in 30 minutes, sir," his AI assistant chirped.
"Fine," he sighed.
He rose, slipping his jacket over his shoulders. The hallway outside his office gleamed with glass and steel, sterile and cold. People greeted him with a mixture of awe and intimidation, but he barely registered them.
The private elevator opened with a soft *ding*. He stepped in and pressed the top floor, where the investment firm's sky lounge awaited. The doors slid closed.
Then—
*KRAK-KRAK-KRAK—SNAP!*
A sound like metal screaming.
Then silence.
Then—
Falling.
The floor vanished beneath him. His body slammed into the elevator wall as gravity tore him downward. His thoughts scattered. His heart punched against his ribs.
So this is it…
(Images flashed) his lonely penthouse, empty awards, countless unopened messages. No friends. No true rivals. No regrets, really—only one haunting truth.
He had never been alive.
Then—
Impact.
And everything went black.