I am Jiron. Twenty-one years old — nothing more. In this world I lived as a failure: short, wearing busted glasses, looking like a model student whose trousers barely reach his ankles — three fingers short, if you counted. I hated myself then, and I still do. All I could do was study, hoping to get into the prestigious Seoul University.
Yes, I was Korean. Then I wasn't. Why? Because my father's sins were revealed. He was a wanted criminal — charged with twenty-four counts of fraud, murder and theft. My mother fled the house with her lover. I? I was stripped of my citizenship. One moment I had a nationality; the next I was a human without belonging — all thanks to the bastard who once said he'd be proud of me. The damned fool.
When hope died, I didn't do what tragic heroes do in books. Suicide? I was more cowardly than a mouse. Alcohol? Never touched it. I begged in the streets, waiting for a miracle. The stupidest part? I still hoped my life would improve in a world full of monsters and gates — childish dreams of becoming an adventurer.
Then came the incident that should have ended me. But fate had other plans: I reincarnated. This time I received a magnificent body — better features, a face I was ashamed to even imagine — and, unbelievably, a System. Yes, a System, the kind I'd secretly obsessed over in every adventure tale. That System became my edge.
I lived, fought, made friends, joined a guild, climbed the ranks, grew rich, and became beloved by both adventurers and common folk. I had a perfect life — or so I thought. My System displayed my stats: strong, fast, sword and dagger mastery. Nothing could touch my beautiful life... until my birthday — June 27th.
On that day, the forbidden artifact I had seized from a dark-gate raid — my proudest achievement — was used against me.
«YOU BASTARDS! WHY?» spat blood onto the floor.
They gave no real answer. Jayun Jo, with that damn smile, said coldly, : « You were always disposable. Used when useful, discarded when not. That's how life works » Then his ornate spear plunged through my skull.
I remember the sickening realization: after everything — after my rebirth, after the System — I was thrown away. What difference was there between my lives? Failure followed me regardless.
Did I give up? Of course not. As I slipped toward death I saw a System prompt.
[Use Unique Item?]
The Unique Item had been a mysterious reward after defeating a high-level beast. It had no description — only the name: [Unique Item]. For the last time, I accepted.
[Unique Item 'Save Point' used successfully!]
[User restored to life with special additional effect!]
[Time Rewind]
[Upon reaching the final point, the Unique Item 'Save Point' returned the user to the past — specifically to the starting moment of the first journey — while preserving the user's previous journey data. Skills, attributes and weapons were not included in the effect.]
Time rewound. I was given another chance. Not reincarnation this time, but a reset — perhaps even better. There was no guarantee I'd get an exceptional body again. But I had something clearer than fame or wealth: revenge — against everyone who made me suffer in both lives.
I rose from my thin mattress and walked to the window of my small, shabby apartment. A wild rock band poster hung by the fridge. I drew the blinds aside and let sunlight hit my face — a face that had hardened.
"Alright," murmured, looking at the city below. "I'll start over. From zero. No — from below zero. And you know what? I like that."