Chapter 1
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I was a slave
When I was less than three years old my parents sold me to a slave trader.
I don’t hold any grudges…
···No to correct this I don’t even remember my parents’ faces·
I was sold when I was barely able to speak. How can I remember my parents’ faces?
The only sight I clearly remember was following the slave dealer while sucking my fingers and thumb.
Young slaves sold quite well·
It was popular with order takers but did you say it was sold well for human testing?
Or did you say that the temple’s greedy pigs sell well because children have tastes?
Anyway it sold very well.
I was sold to one of them…
I think it was said that the slave trader was an ‘unlucky bastard’ but no matter how much I think about it I give a small counter-argument that it would be better to have been sold to a wizard than to cater to the obscene desires of old people.
10 years since I became a slave to a spellcasting wizard.
Out of the hundred slaves who were sold I became one of the three survivors or one of the three test subjects.
The wizard’s experiment was to extract monster cells and transplant them into the human body with the goal of strengthening the human body.
And it was taken for granted in the laboratory that children who could not adapt or endure the cells would explode or become something neither human nor monster and fall into an incinerator.
At that time I was weak but I had a good will.
Will to live·
I had that…
Even at a young age where I didn’t really know what death was I longed for survival and desperately endured the experiment beginning to achieve the results the wizard wanted.
The wizard was delighted as two of the monsters a human dog and a man-eater demonstrated their ability to adapt to the genes of the two monsters.
…and the wizard tried to dissect me…
Pow!
“···uh?”
Is it possible for a person’s head to explode that easily?
It was my first murder…
A slave cannot originally kill its master but when it turns out that it has no will to attack I realized at that time that the slave imprint does not move and I just reflexively struggled and hit it without any killing intent and the wizard died.
It is truly the result of a miracle of coincidence and luck.
···Should we say that this is the result of the wizard’s mistakes being added together?
After all I am a man-eater so I have the genes of a troll…
Is it normal to start by pointing a knife at a child who has the power of a monster rather than that of a child?
It is natural for wizards to be looked down upon as spellcasters.
Everyone is a race of brains…
Anyway when my master died I automatically became free and tried to leave the laboratory.
“Look is there something interesting here?”
“···ah·”
Unfortunately I couldn’t get out…
I should have been a little more quick but unfortunately on the day that an organization that supported the wizard visited the wizard died and I was caught.
“Hey choose a choice. Do you want to follow me? Or do you want to die right here?”
“···I’ll follow you·”
“You’re smart…”
Organization that supports wizards
They were none other than an assassination organization called [Black Moon]…
Age thirteen
I became an assassin…
* * *
The assassination group wanted strong soldiers.
A powerful soldier with the abilities of a monster and excellent assassination skills.
I heard that it was to overthrow a certain kingdom.
Now that I think about how assassins and the like are trying to overthrow the kingdom I feel like the world is in such a bad place…
Well I was able to survive because I was useful and I was raised as an assassin and for the first time I lived like a human…
Although he was subjected to inhumane acts such as eating poison or being tortured every day to increase his tolerance to poison…
For the first time I was able to understand what it means to be ‘human’ just by eating decent food and having a place to sleep.
Therefore there was no resentment toward the assassination organization.
It took about 5 years of painstaking work to develop me into a professional assassin.
“Prepare for the mission…”
“All right·”
“No. 9 and No. 10 will move together… No. 8 you take care of it…”
“···Yes·”
At that time my name was number 8.
In other words it meant that there were 7 more people above me and it was also natural…
Are the assassin organizations not so stupid that they only trusted one wizard to overthrow the kingdom?
There were quite a few sponsored spellcasters and there were quite a few people in the organization with unusual physical abilities or mysterious abilities like me.
For reference No. 9 and No. 10 were the ones who survived the experiment along with me.
The relationship was very bad…
Perhaps due to the nature of the organization it is a structure that does not allow us to get along well but they did not seem to like the fact that I was younger than them and was in a higher number.
···They are childish guys·
But maybe it was because they were childish…
“Die No. 8!”
“If it weren’t for you…!”
No. 9 and No. 10 who had a very strong sense of inferiority attacked me and I also ran into them to survive.
It was quite a battle but I had the upper hand…
These guys had to know…
“If you want to raise your number you should have worked harder than me.”
Phew!
“Wow!”
“Oh how…”
“Why do I have a high number? I hope I become smarter in my next life.”
Anyway the reason my number is high is because I’m definitely stronger than them…
Those guys were clearly idiots who didn’t even know why…
“Whoa but what should I do with this?”
I succeeded in killing them all but I wasn’t very happy…
On the contrary if I am happy about murder when it is so meaningless and bitter it will be proof that I am a crazy person from then on.
However the feeling that came after the bitterness was actually worry.
They were talented people who were raised with great care by an organization but they were killed like this…
I was very worried that the organization might try to kill me.
But fortunately…
“reel?”
When I returned to the organization it had collapsed miserably.
As the plan to overthrow the kingdom was discovered the kingdom’s army marched out and began wiping out all the assassination organizations.
It was hard to believe at first…
Because we know that the power of the organization is quite strong…
Therefore I looked around and investigated all the places I knew including the organization’s safe house but all of them were incinerated as if they had been burned and conclusively…
“···You’re going great until those gentlemen go.”
When I saw the organization’s instructors and executives hanging on poles with their heads cut off I became convinced…
Oh the organization is ruined…
At the time I was 18 years old and I was finally truly free.
* * *
2 years after that…
I moved to a foreign country for a second life and lived hard for a new start but if there is one thing I have definitely learned during this time it is that the world is heartless and much harsher than when I was in an organization.
Is this the way the world is?
“You look like a dog…”
Life was so difficult that I always used the vulgar swear words I first learned.
Starting with making money maintaining relationships finding a job etc.
In the end I tried many different jobs but in the end what I learned was cutting so I had no choice but to choose the job I was best at.
“The youngest is too slow…”
“Yes I’m leaving now!”
I became a mercenary…
To be exact he is the youngest member of a small to medium-sized mercenary group.
“Where did you come from and what did you do?”
“I just wandered around the back alleys…”
“okay? “The steps are just like that of an assassin…”
“Me?”
“···Isn’t that okay? “I’m sorry. I must have been mistaken.”
“Ah why apologize? Haha.”
···Ghost-like noblemen··
I thought these mercenaries were just passing through their lives but they are quite perceptive and have a good sense of humor.
Well I guess this is why I live off of fried rice…
From then on I tried to give up the attitude of an assassin…
You have abandoned your gait or habits.
Of course I left behind what I needed…
Because skills and necessary habits had to be useful at all times…
For 4 years I worked as a mercenary escaped being the youngest traveled to several battlefields and lived off swords.
Pow!
“Wow!”
“You damn bastards!!”
This guy’s life is really…
The mercenary group was hit with a stone by the client’s bastard.
I was hit hard on the head by a stone and fell down my vision just blurring.
‘···I have to pretend to be dead…’
Actually it wasn’t this bad…
Anyway what kind of body is this?
Will I die if I get hit by a few stones?
‘You can’t win this…’
Even if we assume that all hidden skills and numbers are revealed it is impossible for a small number of people to defeat well-trained soldiers.
Therefore it would have been best to pretend to be dead and bide my time and I believed in my strong regenerative power and strong body and endured the slings and kicks of military boots.
Don’t ask if it’s okay when everyone else is dying…
I endured so many strange looks every time I picked up soap but they only looked at me a lot as long as I didn’t kill them with my hands.
The moment when the back of my head started pounding with a certain degree of self-justification…
‘···Oh I want to drink cola…’
I recalled a memory I had forgotten…
It was not a memory from this life but a ‘memory from a past life.’
At the age of 24 I realized that I was a reincarnation.
‘···Aren’t there any reincarnation perks?’
Unfortunately after surviving I tried calling the status window in various ways for about five hours but nothing came up.
“···You look like a dog·”
If it’s going to be like this don’t even remember it…
* * *
When the mercenary group was annihilated and I the survivor informed of the client’s betrayal the mercenary union immediately took revenge.
No matter how heartless mercenaries are they are called butchers who will do anything for money. However the absolute rule of the mercenary industry is that the request must be carried out with certainty and that if the client hits him in the back he will never leave it alone.
Since he committed betrayal to save a few pennies there was only bloody revenge.
Due to a mercenary gathering the territory ruled by the client was completely devastated and everything was plundered and stolen.
In particular the client’s blood relatives were sold into slavery or committed suicide.
He must have decided that he couldn’t endure life as a slave…
‘···I need to retire…’
Is it because I awakened memories of my past life?
I ended up feeling a bit repulsed by the cruel processes such as plunder that I had tried so hard to ignore in the past.
It was a minor rejection and not something I couldn’t overcome but I had an intuition that the moment this rejection disappeared my humanity would wear out.
It must be something called subtle sensitivity…
“Let’s just be civil servants…”
After deciding to retire I started studying.
It was easy to become a soldier in a certain territory as long as you could read…
But is it because I saw the territory being trampled by a mercenary union?
I tried to become a soldier for a kingdom that would never fail…
“Of course they are metropolitan government officials rather than local government officials!”
For your information I am not discriminating by region.
I hope there is no misunderstanding
Anyway I did my best to prepare for the exam and finally…!
“Wow you’re quite good…”
“yes?”
“It’s crazy to think that a talented person like you is a soldier. You’re going to work as a knight starting today.”
“···?”
I became a late knight not a soldier…
“What the heck…”
Age 27. It was the birth of knight Lee Han.
A word from the author (author review)
Thank you for watching·
have a good day·
