"…Huh? Where am I?" I whispered, looking around.
It was a still, empty place. No wind. No sound. No tracks.
Then someone appeared in front of me.
Shin.
He looked calm, almost impossibly calm.
"Han Seo‑jun," he said.
I felt my chest tighten.
"Age twenty-six. Became successful at twenty-two. Born June 30, 1997. Died March 5, 2022."
My breath caught.
"What… what are you saying?" I asked, voice trembling. "How do you know all this?"
He didn't answer immediately.
"Wait… did you say dead?" My hands began to shake. "Am I… am I dead?"
"Yes," Shin said simply.
The words landed like a hammer.
"But… how?" I whispered. "And if I'm dead… how can you see me?"
He met my eyes, steady and unwavering.
"Because," he said quietly, "I am God."
"And you died," Shin said calmly, "when a train crushed your body."
"What?" My voice broke. "How—? What about Seo‑Ah?"
"Park Seo‑ah is fine," he replied. "She was crying, you know."
The words hit harder than the death itself.
"So… what now?" I asked quietly. "What happens to me?"
"You will go where your soulmate is."
"What do you mean?"
Shin tilted his head slightly. "Let me explain everything."
"You're special," he said. "You have two soulmates. The first was Min Yuri. The second is Seo‑Ah."
My chest tightened.
"Because of my mistake, Min Yuri died that day."
I stared at him. "What do you mean… because of you?"
He blinked. "Oops. My tongue slipped. But it seems it's time you knew the truth."
"That day," he continued, "Min Yuri was not the one who was supposed to die."
My breath turned sharp. "Then who was?"
"Her cat," Shin said. "Miki."
My fists clenched.
"She was holding it in her arms," he went on. "The cat's fate transferred to her instead."
Something inside me snapped.
I didn't think. I didn't hesitate.
My fist flew.
Crack.
It slammed into Shin's jaw.
He staggered back, clutching his face, screaming in pain.
"Why did you do that?" he shouted.
"SHUT UP!" I roared.
My whole body was shaking.
"I thought—" my voice broke, "I thought it was my fault. I suffered my whole life because of you."
"Man, you broke my jaw," Shin muttered, rubbing his face.
"I know you suffered," he continued after a moment. "But fate was correcting itself."
"What does that have to do with my death?" I asked.
"Simple," he said. "Because of you."
I frowned. "Explain."
"Your second soulmate," Shin said. "After the first one dies, you were supposed to end up with her. But instead, you held on to Yuri."
My chest tightened.
"And now," he added calmly, "look at you. You're dead."
"I don't understand," I said. "Explain it properly."
Shin tapped the ground with his fingers.
The earth shifted.
Stone flowed like liquid, reshaping itself into a simple round table and two chairs—the kind you'd see in an open-air restaurant. A glass appeared on the table, filled with pale juice, condensation sliding slowly down its surface.
"Sit," Shin said calmly. "You'll get thirsty."
I hesitated, then sat, hands trembling around the glass. The juice was too sweet. Almost cruel.
"Souls bound by fate," he said, "walk together, think together, share mistakes… even death."
I stared at him.
"You had two soulmates. Three souls tied to one fate. That should never happen. My mistake."
Silence.
"The system waits when one dies. It doesn't release them. But… someone prayed."
The words hung heavy between us.
The memory struck me like a blade.
"An earnest, desperate prayer," he continued. "One that moved the Almighty. And that… superior of mine decided to interfere."
My heart sank.
"Yuri's soul was sent to another world."
The glass rattled softly as I set it down.
"And because of that," Shin said, meeting my gaze, "you can no longer remain here. A soulmate cannot abandon their bond. Fate will pull you toward her."
My chest tightened.
"When you said 'someone prayed,'" I whispered, "that was me, wasn't it?"
Shin didn't deny it.
"You wished for her to live," he said. "Even if it wasn't beside you."
Silence filled the space.
Then I forced the words out.
"What about Seo-ah?"
Shin leaned back, his expression unreadable.
"Don't worry," he said. "Souls tied by fate don't break easily."
He looked past me, toward something I couldn't see.
"She'll follow you, too. Eventually."
I lifted the glass again and took a slow sip.
The juice was sweet.
Almost cruelly so.
I asked quietly, "So… where is she now?"
"She's in the Kingdom of Elenador," Shin replied.
He sighed and rubbed his jaw. "Yes, this whole situation was my mistake, but—"
Suddenly, he shouted.
"THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN BREAK MY JAW."
The air trembled.
Then, just as suddenly, he calmed down, as if nothing had happened.
"So," he continued evenly, "as compensation, I'll grant you some power. Tell me—what do you want?"
I stared at him. "Can I really ask for anything?"
"Yes. Without limit."
My heart raced. "What do you mean… without limit?"
"Just say it," Shin replied. "And I will grant your request."
I didn't hesitate.
"Then give me the power to protect the people I love."
Shin's eyes narrowed.
"…No."
"What?" My voice cracked. "Why?"
"Don't be greedy, boy," he said calmly. "Power only brings destruction."
I clenched my fists. "Then… give me anything."
A faint smile crossed his face. "A wise choice."
He reached into the air and pulled out a notebook and a pen.
They weren't normal.
I could tell the moment I saw them.
"This," Shin said, holding up the pen, "is the pen that writes fate and destiny. It's usually used to assign traits to souls."
He frowned. "What was its name again? I forgot."
He paused.
"…Never mind."
The pen moved.
"This… and this… oh, this one too," he muttered.
"How did I forget that?"
"And this—yes. That will do."
The scratching never seemed to end.
"That looks good," he said at last. "Alright. You'll get this… and this… and this…"
He stopped.
"And lastly—this."
The notebook snapped shut.
"And my blessing. Too."
He handed it to me.
"Here. I've given you a few things."
"A few?" I stared at him. "It looks like you gave me everything."
Shin laughed.
"It's not everything. Last time I did this, I accidentally gave someone the power of a dragon. He became a dragon, got killed by heroes, and—well—eaten. Lizards and dragons are basically the same."
"They're not," I said flatly.
"One thing I'm sure of," I added, "you're reckless. Way too reckless."
Shin smirked. "My master used to say the same thing."
"Then you really are foolish."
He chuckled. "Well then… shall we begin?"
"Begin what?" I frowned. "I'm not interested in men—especially a child."
"I'm not a child," Shin snapped. "And I'm not talking about whatever disgusting thought you just had."
He looked at me seriously.
"I'm talking about your reincarnation."
My breath caught.
"So," he said softly, "it's time to say goodbye."
Light gathered around him—far too much.
I could see it.
Divinity.
Power so vast it blurred my vision.
Infinity.
As everything began to fade, Shin's voice reached me one last time.
"Oh—and the drink you swallowed?"
My heart dropped.
"It erases memories of your past life."
"What did you—"
"You bastard!"
The world vanished.
—
"Ouch… my jaw still hurts," Shin muttered.
"Is he even human?"
He sighed.
"Just like you, Master."
Shin turned toward the wall.
A massive portrait hung there.
A figure with hair perfectly split between white and black stared back at him.