THE REALITY OF A NEW WORLD

Chapter One: The Reality of a New World

Morning.

It was 7:49 a.m. on December 21, 2059—my sixteenth birthday. I opened my eyes, stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, and let out a tired sigh. Another year older. Somehow, I had survived sixteen years in this ridiculous world. I dragged myself out of bed, walked into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and finally looked at myself in the mirror.

“Fuck. I hate this stupid new life.” Yeah. I know what you're thinking. Another reincarnated protagonist.

I've read too many manga, novels, and manhwa where the main character dies in his old world, gets reincarnated into a world of magic, and immediately becomes some ridiculously overpowered monster. They get an incredible skill, unlimited mana, a legendary weapon, or some mysterious system that makes everyone else look like insects.

Sounds amazing, right? Well...

That's bullshit. The truth is, only the lucky ones get that kind of second chance. Me? I got screwed.

I died in the stupidest way imaginable in my previous life. Who the hell dies from a small fall? Seriously. I didn't get hit by a truck. I wasn't murdered by some criminal. I didn't sacrifice myself to save anyone.

I just fell. A pathetic death for a pathetic life. And when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I was reborn in a completely different world. A world where magic existed. A world filled with monsters. A world with adventurers, magic academies, powerful nobles, legendary warriors, and an Adventurer's Guild straight out of every fantasy story I'd ever read. It should have been perfect.

Except for one tiny problem. I had almost no talent for magic. And I couldn't even use a sword properly. So much for my glorious second life. I walked out of the bathroom and looked around my bedroom. Everything was exactly where I'd left it. The expensive furniture. The noble family's crest hanging above the fireplace. The clothes neatly arranged beside my bed. Then I remembered what today was.

My sixteenth birthday. And, apparently, the day my parents had decided to ruin my life. They were planning to force me into an arranged marriage. Politics, they called it. A marriage between noble families to strengthen alliances, increase influence, and protect our family's position. Romantic, right? Of course, there was one thing that made the situation even more ridiculous. I was the eighth son of the family.

The eighth. By the time anyone got around to thinking about me, my older brothers had already taken most of the family's attention, influence, and expectations. I wasn't the heir. I wasn't talented. I wasn't particularly strong. And I wasn't even handsome enough to make someone overlook all of that. Honestly, if some poor girl actually agreed to marry me, I'd probably feel sorry for her.

I sighed and walked toward my bed. That's when I noticed something missing. My wooden sword. I stared at the empty spot beside the bed. “...You've got to be kidding me.” My older brother had stolen it again. Of course he had. Even in a world with magic, monsters, nobles, and adventurers...

My greatest enemy was still my own family.

I still couldn't believe any of this was real. Sometimes, I wished I could go back to my old world. I actually had a good life there. I could sleep all day, play video games until sunrise, eat whatever I wanted, and waste hours playing Minecraft, Fortnite, Call of Duty, and whatever else I could get my hands on. Sure, my old life wasn't perfect. But compared to this?

It was heaven. Because this world had no games. None. Not a single fucking game. Instead, people entertained themselves with magic. Magic duels. Magic tournaments. Magic competitions. Seriously, who the hell thought fighting someone with magic was fun? Especially when I couldn't even cast a basic Water Spell. I had tried. More times than I wanted to admit. I'd watched other children my age casually summon water from their hands while I stood there struggling to produce even a single drop.

It was humiliating. And if I hadn't been born into a noble family, I probably wouldn't have survived in this world at all. Nobles had servants, food, protection, tutors, and enough money to keep even a useless son alive. Without all of that? I'd probably be dead already. Maybe getting reincarnated wasn't the blessing those stories made it out to be. Maybe it was just another punishment.

I stared at the empty space where my wooden sword had been and sighed. “Sixteen years in this world,” I muttered. “And somehow, things keep getting worse.” Then I heard footsteps approaching my bedroom door. I froze. The door opened. And the person standing on the other side was the last person I wanted to see this morning.

My mother stood in the doorway, staring at me with the same disappointed expression I'd seen countless times before. “You're sixteen years old, yet you still haven't learned a proper spell,” she said sharply. “You can't even wield a sword correctly. What exactly do you plan to do with your life?”

I said nothing. Her complaints continued, each word sharper than the last. Useless. Lazy. Disappointing. I'd heard it all before. And strangely enough, I didn't care. This wasn't anything new. In my old life, I'd spent years learning how to deal with people who constantly complained about me. Eventually, I'd mastered what I liked to call the Mind of Peace.

The technique was simple. Hear the words. Understand that they're being said. Then completely block them out. I looked at my mother while her voice continued in the background. “...and today you're supposed to meet the other family, so at least try to act like a proper noble—”

I nodded occasionally. Not because I was listening. Because I had already entered the peaceful state of mind. Her voice became nothing more than background noise. For the first time that morning, I smiled. Maybe being useless had one advantage. I was already an expert at ignoring people who thought I was useless.

After a while, my mother finally left. The moment the door closed behind her, I dropped onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling. I wondered if my father, the head of the family, was actually going to show up today. I had only seen him three times in my entire life. Three times. That was how little I knew the man who was supposed to be my father.

According to my mother, he was always busy serving the king. He spent most of his time at the royal palace, dealing with politics, attending meetings, and handling whatever important matters the king needed from him. She had told me that when I was ten. Back then, I actually cared. I wanted to know my father. I wanted him to visit me. I wanted him to treat me like his son.

But that feeling had disappeared a long time ago. The truth was, I never really saw the people in this family as my parents. How could I? I still remembered my real mother and father from my previous life. Their faces. Their voices. The way they used to talk to me. Those memories never disappeared, no matter how many years I spent living in this world. Sometimes, it made everything feel strange. I had been born again, given a new body, and placed inside another family. But somewhere inside me, I was still the same person who had lived an entirely different life. So what was I supposed to call them?

My parents? Maybe technically they were. But in my heart... They never truly were.

“Whatever.”

I pushed the thoughts out of my head and got up from the bed. There was no point thinking about it anymore. Whether my father came today or not didn't matter. Whether my mother cared about me didn't matter either. This was my life now. I walked toward my closet and pulled out a jacket. After putting it on, I took one last look around my room.

Sixteen years in this world. Sixteen years of being the useless eighth son of a noble family. Sixteen years of struggling with magic, failing with a sword, and wondering why the hell I had been reincarnated in the first place. I opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

“Time to start another miserable day.” I began walking. I had no idea that this ordinary morning would be the last time my life felt ordinary.