308 Questions [1]
"That bastard! Argh! That fucking bastard– Ahh! Dammit! Fuck, I'll kill him!"
The weather outside was pleasant. Basked in the fervent glow of the moonlight, the urban jungle teemed with life.
People went out to savor the nightlife of the city to the fullest.
Meanwhile, the military police were rattled by a particular case centered around a café that, as it happened, was haunted by a vampire until very recently.
How did the vampire get there?
Who killed that vampire and how?
How did the vampire manage to keep her activities hidden until now?
No one knew the answer to these puzzling questions. There was no evidence, nothing out of the blue, and no security footage either.
Someone erased everything. But who? No one knew.
So while the military police struggled to find a lead in their newest case, nobles, too, were busy in their bustling lives.
Especially those nobles who were in charge of the area where that café was.
Hardly anyone in this splendid city had the time to pause and admire the full moon gracing the night sky tonight.
Within this beautiful city, if one were to peek through a particular window of the mansion belonging to the West's Overlord, the Morningstars, they'd see a young man yelling and wailing, shouting a chain of profanities and course as he pummeled his pillow.
Like a man possessed, he continued to rain down punches on his pillow until it turned into nothing but tattered fabric and cotton.
He still didn't stop punching, however.
If anyone were to see the crazed glint in the handsome lad's eyes, coupled with the way he drooled while relentlessly punching the remnants of his pillow, they would surely label him as a deranged lunatic.
That deranged lunatic... Well, that would be me. Yeah, I was the one cussing and punching my pillow.
Well, can anyone truly blame me?! If they can, they've clearly never been killed by the hands of a God not one but three times!
Yes, for anyone audacious enough to question my crazy behavior, I want them to get shot, killed in their sleep and have their head severed by a divine being.
"Arghh! Damn, I'm so angry! Arghh, I'll kill him! Who does he even think he is? I don't care if he's a God or anything else! How dare he kill me again"
After fuming for a long time, and breaking a few items, like some electronics and those ornate gold vases, I finally managed to regain my composure.
Solemnly, I reflected on myself and surveyed the wreckage in my room.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I said to myself, "When did I begin smashing things when I got angry? That's some rich spoiled brat behavior."
Shaking my head in self-disapproval, I fell back on my opulent bed and blankly stared at the intricately designed ceiling above.
My mind was still occupied with what just happened. So, my theories were true. I was correct.
Gods do exist. Joe was one of them. He threw me into one of his creations – his world – all because I insulted him.
A divine retribution.
…Yeah, no, I'm not buying it for a second.
A God took offense at the words of a mere mortal like myself. Haa, as if. I'm not foolish enough to believe such a feeble lie.
Besides, there's that thing he said before he shot me in my previous life. Though I can't recall his words clearly, I distinctly remember him uttering something along the lines of:
"Casting Time Reversal and Parallel Timeline Rebirth will take a toll on my body. I may lose half of my life essence but I'll make you remember. I'll make you remember what it's like being alive."
Back then, I didn't focus on his words too much because for me he was just a crazy author holding a gun to my head.
After my transmigration, I suspected him to be a God of some kind, but I had no clear proof.
Now I do. Now I could recall each and every word he said and analyze them. For instance, he said he was going to cast Time Reversal.
Which tells me that this timeline has already ended once. The only reason these people are living again is because the God of Existence reset the timeline.
"But is this the first time he reset it?"
I mean, Lucas had memories of alternative timelines, although all of it is currently locked somewhere in my head. Kai has them too.
What if… instead of alternate timelines, what they remember is just their lives in previous timelines?
I talked to Kai about it once. He dubbed those timelines where the world was destroyed as Ruined Timelines.
Regression…
Hmmm.
After that, Joe also mentioned he'd also be casting Parallel Timeline Rebirth.
If it means what I think, then the Earth from my previous life was in a different universe.
This proves another one of my theories. The Multiverse is also real.
Now finally, the question is: Why?
Why did Joe kill me and throw me into this world?
Before he shot me, he looked disappointed that I insulted his story. He didn't kill the other Editors, only me.
He said that I've forgotten what it's like being alive and that I'll remember how to live if he sends me back.
Wait… back?
"I'm not sure, but I remember he said he'll send me back…."
But… back where? In his novel? In this world?
Sitting up straight, I widened my eyes slightly and drew a few deep breaths to stay calm.
I know I could very well be overthinking, but it's certainly possible that I originally belonged to this world.
If Gods are real and Transmigration is possible, then so must be Reincarnation.
Maybe, after this timeline ended and I died after the world ended, I reincarnated in a different universe, on a different Earth.
Maybe I had always been Lucas.
That would explain so many things. For example, our similar intelligence, taste in material things, thought process, and other things like being overly handsome.
…Okay, maybe not the last part.
"But yeah, it is possible."
But then, I have two more questions.
In Lucas' journals, he wrote my name. So how did he know about my previous life?
How did he know someone named Noah was about to possess his body?
But that's not the only thing. What did Joe gain through all of this?
If what he said was right, then he lost so much of his life essence just to make me transmigrate… or reborn, whatever.
Why did he do that?
Aghh, I've found the answer to one question, only to be swamped with four more. And people wonder why I hate the mystery genre!
