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Chapter 1

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My cause of death was simple.

It was a building collapse. While playing a game at home, my studio apartment came crashing down.

The rent wasn’t even that cheap, but who would’ve thought it was that poorly constructed? I wanted to sue the construction company that did such lousy work, but it didn’t happen.

Well, because my head got smashed like tofu first.

[GAME OVER!]

With my monitor flickering before my eyes, I lost my life.

But that didn’t seem to be my final curtain call after all.

“Ugh!”

“Hey, are you okay, Yor?”

I reincarnated into a strange medieval era.

In a fantasy world filled with swords and magic, as an orphan named Yor from an orphanage.

But this world had something else peculiar about it too.

“Um… I’m fine.”

“Be careful. What if a boy runs around like that recklessly?”

It was a world with reversed gender roles.

Here, most physical labor was done by women, and women mostly held the high-ranking positions in society.

“Haha, yeah…”

That said, boys didn’t just become washed-up dishwashers at home, but it was clear many things had changed.

And judging by how things felt, the gender norms had definitely shifted.

While it was a rather surreal world, there was nothing particularly inconvenient about it.

The stagnant atmosphere of the orphanage was a bit stifling, but at least the people were kind. I got along well enough, even if I didn’t have a deeply understanding friend.

If I hadn’t had that incident when I was 10, I would have lived a mundane life.

My entire life flipped upside down on my birthday, June 6th, when I turned ten. In this world, children undergo a peculiar test at the age of 10.

They check if a child has any issues by injecting divine power into their body. Everyone in this world has a chance to manifest the harmful trait known as ‘Demon’s Blood’ when they turn 10.

“Wait, what’s this mark…?”

“Oh no! It’s a demon! It’s a demon!”

And this time, I was the unlucky winner.

As divine power flowed into me, a crimson tattoo emerged on my right collarbone.

A haunting mark of a demon’s horn. It was proof that I was born with Demon’s Blood. Now that I think about it, this scenario sounds familiar.

It’s not just a cliché; it’s a setup that I saw in one of the games I played before.

[Demon’s Saga]

It was the online RPG I had been playing before I died. The goal was to hunt down demons scattered across various locations.

“Dammit…”

I hadn’t realized it due to the reversed gender roles, but it turns out I had fallen into the same world as Demon’s Saga.

Ugh, Demon’s Blood. It’s a pretty cringy setup, and yet my life plummeted because of it.

“Damn it, we were raising the child of a demon!”

“Take him away at once! Who knows when he’ll go berserk!”

“I’m sorry, Yor. But there’s no other way…”

Those who manifest Demon’s Blood are seen as nothing but dangers. You never know when they could lose control.

Moreover, a Demon’s Blood manifestor is, by nature, a weapon of mass destruction, requiring special caution.

The medieval folks sought to deal with this problem in a convenient yet barbaric way.

“Let’s send him straight to the execution ground!”

“Purify his wicked blood!”

They were going to execute a 10-year-old child.

Ignoring the ethical issues easily removed a potential threat, making it a rather convenient solution.

Thanks to that, I found myself locked away in a dark underground prison in the empire.

With the grim reality that I was soon to be executed.

During my transport to the prison, I caught numerous stares.

Citizens looking at me with disgust, knights showing signs of annoyance. Amongst them were a few sympathetic glances, but those were rare.

No one was denying my death.

…However, there were two things they didn’t know.

Firstly, the gaps in the iron bars were just wide enough for me to barely slip through.

Secondly, my blood was already well into its manifestation.

When Demon’s Blood manifests, it seems that basic physical abilities, including regeneration and strength, increase.

I managed to break the chains that bound my wrists and ankles after several attempts. Of course, in the process, my wrists and palms got scraped and healed several times, but… that was ultimately a minor issue.

It was a ridiculously small price to pay for my life.

Anyway, after that, I escaped.

Avoiding the guards, dodging the citizens who hated me, running from the empire that sought my execution.

While fleeing, a bounty was placed on me, and my rumors spread amongst the people. I even spotted search parties armed with swords and bows.

Still, as I ran in a panic, I eventually found myself outside the empire. A vast, empty plain stretched before me.

As I escaped from the threat, a wave of sorrow suddenly hit me.

‘…Why.’

Why do I have to go through this?

What sin have I committed to be chased like this?

Is there even a crime here?

There is.

Being born with Demon’s Blood was the sin.

By their logic, I was a sinner from the moment I was born, and by the time I turned ten, my past was revealed.

And this sin was a grave crime that resonated throughout the entire world. It was punishable by death.

“Ugh… Huh…”

Tears welled up from the sorrow, but I couldn’t stop my steps. If I stayed here, the pursuers would catch up and take me back.

‘I want to live.’

I wanted to live. I knew it was a hopeless situation, yet I wanted to survive.

Walking endlessly, I questioned myself.

‘Where should I go?’

The empire was obviously out of the question. I would be executed as soon as I set foot there.

Other countries were impossible too. I couldn’t just live quietly in some remote village.

The horn mark on my collarbone would follow me like a brand. I’d get caught immediately and executed by the knights.

It seemed impossible to live anywhere with civilization.

So where, where should I go?

“Ah.”

As I walked for a while, I suddenly came upon a forest. It wasn’t an ordinary forest.

It was a forbidden area, filled with beasts and monsters devoured by magic. Probably a high-level hunting ground in the game.

The paths were complex, so no one ever came here, which made it the perfect spot for me.

I heard the monsters at the entrance were weak, so I could perhaps hide out here.

After a long walk filled with thoughts, I started feeling hungry. I craved something sweet.

I wanted the strawberry jam pastries sold near the orphanage.

Of course, there was no way to eat that now. And probably never will again.

Swallowing my flowing tears, I stepped into the forest…

*

A long time has passed since then.

“Damn, the smell of deer meat just won’t go away.”

I had my difficulties in the beginning, but this forest turned out to be livable.

I got used to the winding paths over time, and though it was crude, I managed to gather enough supplies.

There were fresh water sources scattered like lakes, and if I looked hard enough, I could find places to sleep.

The monsters were the biggest concern, but they were manageable. Well, they became manageable over time.

Though it had brought my life to such lows, the Demon’s Blood had considerable strength.

It not only enhanced my basic physical abilities but also granted me various unique skills.

Now, I’m a wondrous human who can control and solidify my own blood at will. There were virtually no opponents except for a few of those monster-like creatures deep within the forest.

Once a month, during the berserk outbursts A and B, I sometimes felt like killing myself, but surprisingly, the Demon’s Blood was manageable.

In short, I was surviving.

A few inconveniences existed, but they didn’t significantly hinder my survival.

Thanks to that, I carried on this stubborn life for 12 more years.

Right? I’ve been in this forest so long that my sense of date is a bit fuzzy.

“… But still, it tastes okay.”

The most inconvenient part was loneliness.

Crackle – Crackle –

The fire I lit to roast the meat brightly lit up the cave.

Being in this narrow cave sometimes filled me with an aching loneliness within my bones.

Humans are often called social creatures.

We don’t exist as individuals but constantly confirm our existence through others.

The desire to interact with others is imprinted on us at the genetic level, not just in our reasoning.

But here, 12 years have passed without any real conversation with another person. During that time, my loneliness grew like a snowball, occasionally tormenting me.

Thinking about it, I’m in this reversed gender role world, yet I don’t seem to be reaping any benefits.

And I can’t just strike up a conversation with someone who happens to show up…

Once again, I mutter my impossible wish.

“… I want to make friends too.”

The echo that returned to me was nothing but emptiness.

*

[Open Beta Service Ended!]

[Otherworlders are about to arrive!]

[You have acquired the trait ‘Player’s Eye’!]

“… Huh?”

It was a few days later when a strange system window appeared before my eyes.


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