Chapter 1: Rebirth 1

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Han Taejin, reborn as a child in the slums, did not know how it had come to this. The only thing he knew was that his surroundings were far from good. Amidst the sudden disaster, he received the name Cain. Although he was at the bottom of society, unable to inherit even a surname, he could not say he was unhappy. Here, everyone was unhappy.

In this world, the wealthy merchants who traversed the continent, the elders who had protected their regions for centuries, and the nobles with noble bloodlines made up less than 5% of the population. The remaining 95% were muck, or rather, solid manure. It was a realm one could never aspire to from the start.

Some won the lottery, and some succeeded in investments. The dream of sudden wealth could happen anywhere, anytime. But that was not his story. If it were, it would feel like a distant tale, almost like a different world.

Life was a continuous series of misfortunes. It was exhausting because one could not see even an inch ahead, and it was miserable because one could not do anything as one wished. Believing that a desirable life could unfold from such a starting point was nothing but sheer arrogance.

However, that did not mean he had given up on a better life. At least, with the memories of his past life, he could start faster than others, a fact that remained unchanged. Moreover, this was a new beginning in a new world. He could not ignore the fortune of being reborn, no matter how unfortunate it seemed.

Thus, Cain struggled to seize this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The conditions were sufficient. This world, 'Hevnia,' was filled with legends and mysteries. Unknown technologies sprang forth, and lands blessed with grace were accompanied by natural disasters and monstrous beings. Heroes and protagonists awaited their stories.

It would be a lie to say his heart did not race. A belief that he could overcome any adversity and hardship bloomed in his chest. After all, having the memories of his past life meant they would be of great use in this life.

However, it took less than a year for that belief to be shattered. The vague hope that a humble beginning could lead to a grand ending, the wish that he alone would be special—these were nothing more than castles of sand built on a dream.

"Stupid..."

A self-deprecating smile appeared on his lips. His childhood memories were always embarrassing and revolting. The disillusionment with his former self, who knew nothing, was profound.

Cain, clutching his stomach to stop the blood from gushing, groaned. It had been 35 years since he was born in this world, and the bright dreams he once had were now nowhere to be found. From the beginning, it was off track. From the start, it was something he should not have desired. Everything, every single thing.

What more was there to say as he lay dying in an unknown slum? It was already a failed life, an irreversible end.

Reflecting on his life, nothing had gone as planned. Just being a cog in an unknown organization's wheel was proof of that.

But he was here because there was someone he could not give up on.

'Saintess...'

The benefactor who broke the organization's chains and brought a refreshing rain to his dry heart. She was his only salvation.

Thus, he did not hesitate to help her escape. It was the minimum courtesy and respect he could offer to the benefactor who had given him a chance to live a decent life.

Even if it led to destruction, he had no regrets. This death was the first choice he had ever made in his life.

"Ah... I see, it's easy to catch the tail. 2nd Class Killer, Cain, right? I was too careful. I was tense for months, thinking you were a dangerous fugitive."

Suddenly, a voice called out to him, and his eyes darted to the speaker. In front of him was a woman with cat-like slit eyes. There was no need to ask if she was an agent—Ghost—sent by the organization.

Her unique aura touched his skin. Her straight, snake-like pupils clearly showed that her background was not ordinary. It was likely due to some form of physical modification.

The man standing beside her spoke in response to her words.

"Cain? I've heard that name before. Perhaps..."

Before he could finish, the woman cut him off.

"You were always the bottom of the class. You barely passed before becoming scrap. Why should I know a half-penny? Besides, it's not much of a story to you, the top graduate."

"Is this guy the one?"

"Right, a record that will never be broken. How can someone take 9 years to complete basic education?"

She spoke as if truly surprised, as if truly questioning how it was possible. Her tone was filled with various emotions, enough to provoke shame in the listener.

"Hah... I guess I'm more famous than I thought."

A hollow laugh escaped him. Being the perennial bottom of the class was a past Cain wanted to hide.

But the woman seemed to enjoy his discomfort and continued.

"Still, 9 years is just too much. It's not something a human should do. Honestly, are you a goldfish?"

The organization's basic education was completed before adulthood, taking an average of 5 years. 9 years was 4 years slower than others, making it impossible not to laugh.

After mocking him for a while, the woman wiped the smile from her face and muttered softly.

"No, judging by how you bit your master, you must be an ungrateful dog."

Her words were harsh, filled with nothing but crude insults. She was a traitor who had left the organization and joined the Saintess. No word could fit her better.

The woman's words were sharp, but Cain remained calm.

The 'organization' was not a normal group. Its purpose and goals were unknown, and it only demanded blind loyalty. It was impossible for someone sent by such a group to be normal. She was just another ghost wandering without a reason.

Coughing up blood, Cain twisted his lips.

"Are you dogs fighting among yourselves? Do you want to boast about whose collar shines brighter? Well, for a bitch, a shining collar might be something to boast about. But what can I do? I want to stand alone. I broke my collar a long time ago."

He had never lost in words, even in life. He might as well have kept his mouth shut.

"What did you say?"

As expected, the woman's expression turned cold in an instant.

"Say it again. Hurry up!"

Before Cain could respond, the woman grabbed his hair and slammed his head to the ground.

"Say it again. Say it again!"

His nose broke, and blood gushed from his forehead, but her violence did not stop. She swung her arm neurotically, as if once was not enough.

Cain raised his hand belatedly, but it was in vain. The thirteen months of escape had left him with severe injuries. His battered body could not move as he wished.

"The Saintess is already branded as a heretic. Do you think you'll be fine? A heretic and a traitor, did you think you could escape together and make it somehow? No way. You are failures. By now, the Saintess you cherished so much is probably captured. How is she doing? She seems like a virgin..."

The woman smirked.

Heretic. Hearing that word, Cain's lips twisted. It was a word he could not tolerate. It was the only blemish on the Saintess, whom he revered.

He had observed her for a short time, but he had seen clearly how pure she was.

Innocent, chaste, and pure. The humble, diligent, and obedient Saintess did not deserve the label of heretic. It was an insult.

"Damn bitch..."

"So, the Saintess you like will join that group!"

As the conversation intensified, the man raised his hand to stop the woman. Cain's condition was unbearable to look at. His breath was rough and faint, as if it could stop at any moment.

He could die at any time. It was not the time for wordplay.

"...That's enough. This one is a research subject. We need to find out how he escaped the organization's 'control.'"

Emotional control and mental constraints. The means the organization used to control the ghosts were like unbreakable collars.

But Cain had broken free, defying the organization's foundation. It was a major event that could shake the organization, a matter that could not be taken lightly. The man's attitude was serious.

"Tsk, do as you please."

The woman kicked the wall a few times, clicked her tongue, and stepped back.

"2nd Class Killer, Cain. It's not too late. If you tell us how you escaped the organization's control, we'll let you go without pain."

"You won't say you'll let me live, will you?"

"I don't speak lies. That's all."

There were many things he wanted to say, but he did not. The agents of the organization were all carefully selected strong individuals. They were highly trained killing machines from a young age.

Their loyalty to the organization was unquestionable.

Turning someone's heart with a few words was unthinkable. Meeting the man's eyes, Cain provocatively lifted the corners of his mouth.

"What if I can't?"

"You know, don't you?"

With a crack, an arm fell off. Suppressing the urge to scream, Cain bit his lip. Tearing off an arm with bare hands—his strength was no longer human.

All hope was long gone. Reaching a point of no return, Cain spat out his anger.

"Ugh, I won't let you off. You, the organization... I'll find you and kill you, no matter what."

The organization started chasing the Saintess as soon as they realized she was a heretic. Even for a mysterious organization, such a move was unusual.

Revealing themselves from the shadows indicated the importance of the matter.

'Just when I thought I had broken free from the collar...'

For Cain, who had hoped for a peaceful life, it was practically a death sentence.

Anger boiled within him. He had been played by the organization from start to finish.

If he had the chance, he would tear the organization apart, no matter what.

But the woman's reaction was stark.

"Hehehe, what are you saying? Are you finally coming to your senses as you die?"

Hearing his dying wish, she clutched her stomach and laughed. Her laughter echoed through the alley, and she wiped away tears.

"Do you think you can escape and make it somehow? Well, thinking that way explains your pathetic state."

Kicking Cain's back in disdain, she sat on him.

"Idiot, you still haven't come to your senses. How can you be so slow to understand your place?"

And she slapped him hard. As if to make him face reality, to snap out of it. This time, the man did not stop her.

"What you lack is not time but talent, talent. Perennial bottom. If you had known this, you wouldn't have been the bottom. I would have been too ashamed to commit suicide first."

It was humiliating, but there was no retort. She was right; he lacked talent.

"I was stronger than you even when I started wielding a sword. Do you understand? You know what we are."

Her mocking words were exaggerated, but he could not refute them. Cain knew well the weight of a 1st Class Demon and a 2nd Class Killer. There was a vast difference in skill and power between them.

"Can't handle one person and yet talk about bringing down the organization? Hahaha, keep dreaming until you die. It might make your journey a little easier, right?"

The woman laughed deeply, slapping the back of his head. It was all she could give to someone who did not know their place and was flailing.

"Unfortunately, that's what I want to say."