"Agh..." A pained moan escaped my lips as three bullets tore through my legs. I collapsed, blood pooling around me, staring up at the man who'd just shot me—William.
We'd been more than friends. Brothers. Partners in every crime imaginable. Together, we'd buried countless bodies, toppled organizations, and built a reputation as the most feared criminals alive.
But in the end, he betrayed me—just like my own family had.
I'd only recently discovered the truth: William was a government agent. For seven long years, he'd played the loyal partner, gathering every scrap of evidence against me. The moment he had enough, he decided to end it.
"Ethan," his voice rumbled, heavy and final, "this is what you get for playing with so many lives."
A twisted grin spread across my face. "What an irony. Look who's—"
**BANG.**
Another shot. This one slammed into my abdomen. Blood sprayed like a fountain. "AGHHH!" The pain was blinding. My vision blurred, life slipping away.
Faces from my past swam before me—the people I'd killed. They laughed, screamed that I deserved worse, that this wasn't enough suffering.
I'd gained money, power, fame, women... and an ocean of hatred. Enemies everywhere.
One last time, I focused on William. Sharp jaw, eyes shadowed under the brim of his hat, long brown coat matching his trousers. I couldn't even remember the color of his shirt—teal? White? Didn't matter now.
**BANG.**
The final bullet punched through my forehead. Pain exploded... then nothing.
Darkness.
"Hey!"
"—told you to come tomorrow. Why are you—"
"—making fun of us?"
Voices cut through the void. Two of them, sharp and annoyed, with a crowd murmuring behind.
I was dead. So why could I still hear?
Slowly, I opened my eyes.
I was outside, sprawled on the ground in front of a massive metal gate. Two guards in shining plate armor stood watch, metal spears gripped in their hands. They towered over me.
My gaze locked on the gate—polished steel gleaming in the sunlight, beautiful and intimidating.
One guard pressed the tip of his spear to my throat. "Come back tomorrow. Got it?" His voice was deep, commanding, no room for argument.
I glanced at him, then the other guard, then down at the crumpled paper in my hand. I hadn't even read it yet.
But I knew one thing: if I didn't move, these guys would kill me without hesitation.
I turned away from the gate. Behind me stretched a vast kingdom—cobblestone walls rising high, disappearing into the distance. A single grand entrance. And right under my feet, a wooden bridge arched over a wide moat.
I stepped onto the bridge. On the other side, the streets buzzed with life. Kids darted around, men pushed carts loaded with goods, vendors hawked flowers, bread, tools—everyday stuff. Commoners in simple tunics and trousers, some barefoot, some in worn boots. Women in long dresses or skirts.
I looked down at myself. White t-shirt, dark blue—almost violet—trousers, expensive-looking leather boots. A beat-up wooden sword hung at my waist.
Confusion hit hard. I'd died. I was supposed to be gone—eternal nothing. Not... this.
"Is this the afterlife?" I muttered.
No answer came.
A kid slammed into me, clutching a short wooden sword. Same clothes as mine, except barefoot. He grinned up at me. "You goddamn piece of crap—can't you watch where you're going?"
He was the one who'd run into me.
Like any sensible adult, I kicked him square in the temple. He dropped, moaning.
Suddenly, every eye in the street turned our way.
A fat man with a thick mustache and bald head pushed forward, butcher's knife in hand. "What the hell are you doing, brat?"
I thought he was yelling at the kid—until his glare locked on me.
"He bumped into me first," I said calmly, "then started mouthing off."
The butcher barked a laugh. "A thief like you deserves worse than words."
Thief?
I just got here.
I took a step back. "Wait... this isn't the afterlife?"
His angry expression faltered, replaced by confusion. He lowered the knife slightly. "You finally lose your mind or something?"
The kid scrambled up, wiping dirt off his butt. "This is the Rose Kingdom, you bastard!"
He charged, swinging his wooden sword wildly.
Instinct took over. I drew my own sword and flicked it once—casual, effortless. His weapon flew into the moat. He hit the ground again, a fresh bruise blooming on his cheek.
The butcher roared, face purple with rage. "You're dead, kid! How dare you touch my son!"
He lunged, knife raised.
This world might be new... but some things never change.
Fight or die.
I tightened my grip on the wooden sword.
The butcher was only two steps away when he swung his cleaver in a wide, brutal arc. I took a quick step back, the blade whistling past my chest.
I'd trained in martial arts for years—knew pure manipulation wouldn't keep me alive forever. Close-quarters fights like this? I'd handled dozens. Muscle memory kicked in... but this body didn't respond like the old one. Slower. Weaker. Sluggish.
Still, when his swing missed and he paused for a split second—muscles coiling for the next strike—I lunged forward. My wooden sword cracked across his face with everything I had. The cheap wood shattered on impact, splinters flying everywhere. He staggered, roaring in pain, blood trickling from his split lip and cheek.
He recovered fast. Another swing came—faster, angrier. This time, if I hesitated even a heartbeat, that cleaver would split me from shoulder to hip.
I twisted left and jumped sideways. The blade sliced air right beside my ear—close enough to feel the wind. By a hair's breadth.
He stomped forward, boots pounding the cobblestones, eyes wild with fury.
Then two deep, authoritative voices boomed from behind him.
"Stop right there!"
"How dare you cause a commotion in the kingdom?!"
"Do you both have a death wish?!"
The butcher froze. His massive frame started trembling. He turned slowly toward the voices, dropped to his knees, and slammed his forehead to the ground.
"It wasn't my fault!" he pleaded, voice cracking. "This bastard hit my so—"
"Enough!" one guard snarled. "Before we cut both your heads off, get out of our sight—now!"
It was the same two armored guards from the gate. Their spears gleamed, and the crowd parted instantly. No one argued with them.
The butcher scrambled up, grabbed his whimpering kid by the collar, and bolted into the alley without another word.
I didn't stick around to thank them. I turned and walked away—calm on the outside, mind racing on the inside. This body was trash. Slow. Fragile. I'd need to fix that fast if I wanted to survive here.
My luck, though? Still garbage.
I bumped straight into a woman.
She was stunning—curves that hit like a punch: full, heavy breasts straining against her simple dress, wide hips swaying naturally as she steadied herself. Long dark hair framed a sharp, beautiful face. For a second, my old instincts flared—power, desire, possession. Even in this weak shell, the hunger was still there.
She looked down at me, eyes narrowing. "Watch where you're going, boy."
Her voice was smooth, confident... and a little amused.
I met her gaze, a faint smirk tugging at my lips.
This world just got a lot more interesting.
Author's Note: The novel is going to have around 1100-1300 avg words per chapter and this is just a prototype. I am writing this to collect audience so that I can write a proper fantasy novel with atleast a bit of audience to give me motivation. But that doesn't mean I am not going to finish this smut or degrade it's writing quality. I will deliver the finest piece of smut in my capability. Thank you.