Chapter 2: Chapter 1: Death of assassin and Rebirth
The night was silent, except for the steady rhythm of raindrops striking the pavement. A lone figure moved through the shadows, his footsteps silent despite the slick ground beneath him. His name was Rin, though few ever knew it. To most, he was nothing more than a phantom-a nameless assassin who never failed a mission.
Perched atop a rooftop, Rin adjusted the blade in his hand. It was a simple weapon, yet in his grasp, it was deadlier than any elaborate contraption. His target lay within the grand estate below-Senator Albrecht, a corrupt politician whose greed had bled countless lives dry.
A routine job.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself. The cold air filled his lungs, mingling with the scent of rain-soaked stone. His muscles coiled as he leaped from the rooftop, landing soundlessly on the balcony below.
With practiced ease, he picked the lock and slipped inside. The senator's bedroom was lavish, decorated with gold-trimmed furniture and a massive canopy bed. The man himself lay asleep, unaware that his final moments had arrived.
Rin stepped forward-then froze.
A glint of metal. The unmistakable feeling of being watched.
Instincts honed from years of experience screamed at him to move, but it was already too late. A wire snapped around his throat, pulling him back with brutal force. He twisted, trying to free himself, but his attacker was just as skilled.
The last thing Rin saw was the senator's cold smirk as darkness swallowed him whole.
---
Pain. Cold. A strange weight pressing against his body.
Rin gasped, his eyes snapping open. He expected to see the grim embrace of the afterlife, yet instead, he was greeted by something entirely different.
A ceiling. Ornate. Familiar.
His breath hitched as a flood of foreign memories crashed into his mind.
He was no longer Rin, the nameless assassin.
He was Ethan Runcandel, son of Cyron Runcandel.
And he had just been reborn into a world he once thought was fiction.
---
Memories of his past life intertwined with new ones. It was disorienting. His body was small, fragile. A stark contrast to the hardened warrior he once was.
He tried to move, but his limbs were weak. It took all his effort to sit up, his tiny fingers clutching the silk sheets beneath him. He recognized the emblem stitched into them-the sigil of the Runcandel Clan.
Ethan exhaled slowly.
He had read about this world in his past life. A world dominated by powerful swordsmen, where the Runcandel Clan stood at the peak. And now, he was part of it.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. The door creaked open, and a woman entered-his caretaker.
"Young master Ethan, you're awake." She smiled warmly, unaware of the storm raging in his mind. "Shall I fetch Lady Rosa?"
Rosa Runcandel. His mother.
Ethan hesitated before nodding. He needed time to process everything, but that could wait. For now, he had to play his role.
As the caretaker left, he clenched his fists.
He was no longer an assassin bound by the shadows. He was Ethan Runcandel. And in this new life, he would carve his own path.