Life was unfair.

"Eh, the neighbor's daughter got into Raffles, why can't you?"

"You say you are studying so hard, but you still fail? How can my son be so stupid?"

"All your classmates got into college except you! I don't get it, why are you not more like them?"

Life was so unfair.

No matter how much he had worked, no matter how much he had pushed himself, it had never seemed to matter. While everyone else had strolled along a paved road, he had had to slog against a torrential river, a violent windstorm, and an avalanche altogether.

And when he had looked around, all he had seen were the intact smiles on their faces, the spirit and vigor in their eyes... and their smooth, bruise-free bodies. How was it that they could do it, but he couldn't?

Why couldn't he?

And the more he had looked, the more he could see the way people had been looking at him. The loathing, the contempt, the disgust—they had been gushing out from his parents while seeping out from his friends. He could see them all, masked behind the fake smiles, veiled behind the politeness.

"Useless." "Stupid." "Worthless." "A waste of space and a waste of money."

"Why did I even spend time and money on you when you're just going to amount to nothing?"

Life was so fucking unfair.

But no more.

It turned out that life was only unfair to him because he had been living in a world where he didn't belong. A world where your only merits were your academics, a world where the end goal was so unclear and arbitrary, a world where the weak were superior, as long as they had the money or the grades. He did not belong, and thus he had been inferior.

The world where he belonged, was a world dominated by power, where strength determined everything.

And in this world of magic, he was strong.

Magic was so intuitive—so natural—and, in the words of Gazini, he had picked it up "like a god". Within a few years, he had mastered enhancer magic, telekinesis, and even transmutation, surpassing every fighter he had ever challenged, surpassing even his teacher.

And most importantly, in this world of magic, he was looked at without the loathing and contempt, without the stupid masks of politeness. It was genuine fear from his victims, routine nonchalance from his teacher, and—for the first time in his life—pure admiration from Gazini.

Yes, the old wizard was the only one in his life who believed in him and his ability, the only one who ever respected and appreciated him. Gazini's look of awe, painted by a crazy and intense excitement, was a look he had never seen before. Not in his friends, not in his teachers, not in his parents. Especially not his parents.

Thus, he decided to give his all to serve Gazini, the person who had brought him to this wonderful world. He would do anything in his power to help this old man in whatever he was aiming to do, even if it meant pushing himself to his limits with his sword fighting lessons, even if it meant mutilating his body for the experiments, even if it meant kidnapping and killing a bunch of insignificant folks. He would do anything because Gazini allowed him to be strong, to be superior.

Life had always been unfair, but now it was fair.

To him.

➰☠️➰☠️➰

Han punched the wall; more red splattered onto the crimson patch.

"That fucking bitch!" he yelled as he brought his bloodied fists to the concrete a few more times.

Yēn Sīn-Ní.That cursed woman. Why was she still alive, and being the roadblock to everything he was doing? And why the hell was she so much more powerful than him?

He's superior, and she's inferior!

His hands trembled as he lifted them. The woman should've died long ago; he should've killed her three years ago.

"Are you sure you want to injure yourself even more?"

Han cast an enraged glare behind him. "What the hell do you want, Teach?"

His teacher was leaning against the door, arms folded and face veiled. Anger ate at Han's heart. This annoying mask-wearing dude had taught him everything he knew about sword fighting, but he had also taught her. Why would he ever teach her? And why would he ever teach her to be this good?

"Oh you know, just making sure you're not dead," Teach said, tugging at the black fabric along his neck. He was always fully covered up, like a niqab-wearing Muslim woman. It was remarkable that he could still breathe in that ridiculous outfit.

"I will never be killed by someone like her," Han growled.

Teach let out a snort. Was that a laugh? Did he fucking laugh at me? "Really? She did a number on you though. I'm actually surprised you're alive."

The fury within Han flared up as if doused by petrol.

"You were there!" he roared. "If you've fucking come to my help, I would've beaten her ass!"

"It was your mission," Teach pointed out. "And it was an island from your world. How am I supposed to help you?"

Han gritted his teeth and lowered his head. His eyes found his trembling, bruised fists, before traveling down his mutilated arms, down his clothes that covered hundreds of scars, down his pants... The thought of his injuries stoked the flames of anger within him, and he lashed out at the concrete walls again, punching, kicking, screaming. Pain shot through his joints, but he didn't care.

"It's all her fault! That bitch! I'll kill her next time, I swear!"

"Yeah, yeah, calm down." Another snort. Another laugh? "Gazini wants to see you by the way."

That made Han come to an abrupt stop. "The old man wants to see me?"

Hope welled up in his heart. Finally! Gazini had been asking for him less and less over the years, and it had been bothering him. He needed to talk to the old wizard again, to see his look of deranged wonder again, to assure himself that he was still strong.

A spring in his step, Han followed Teach as they walked over to the grand hall. The familiar room was as empty as ever, except for Gazini and a few of his wolf underlings. With his long, velvety cloak, the wizard's silhouette was as imposing as the stone pillars next to him.

Han broke into a smile. "Aye, Gazi—"

The world went dark momentarily. Every part of his body—and his cursed injuries—ached. Groaning and blinking, he slowly came back to his senses, and he found himself pressed down on the ground, a furry claw to his neck and a wide jaw to his ear. He stiffened.

One of the stupid werewolves had tackled him.

"Erm, Gazini, could you tell this thing to get off me?"

Gazini's long, white hair rustled with his cloak as he turned around. When his wild, gaping eyes met Han's, he grinned. "Now why would I tell Kane to get off you, when I want him to put you to near-death?"

"W- What?"

And that was the last word he spoke for the day.

The next few seconds felt like an eternity of pain. The claws holding him down struck his body, while a few more wolves pounded on him. He did not—he could not—move nor make a sound, as he was attacked on all sides, as his body was slashed, and cut, and punched, and slammed. His mind was numb and his senses were saturated.

When the attack stopped, the pain remained. Excruciating, overwhelming, unbearable. His clothes were shredded to bits, allowing the cool breeze to tickle his warm, blood-drenched skin. Blood gurgled from his mouth as he writhed and coughed; his ears rang from the aftermath, his eyes blurred by the tears, his nose blocked and disfigured.

In front of him, Teach had his head averted. But Gazini looked on, smiling.

Smiling. Finally, Gazini was smiling at him again.

"Welcome back from your last mission, Han."

Ah, that was right. The mission on the island was the last and most important one; Gazini had said that the last time they met.

And he had failed.

"We kept that island a secret for years, for you. The island is void of magic, draining away magic from everything and everyone, but you. We trained you for years, I allowed you to organize the open quest, I gave you the perfect opportunity to finally get me some worthy sacrifices, to finally open up the portal again." Gazini's feet were now lingering in front of Han's face. "And you just had to go and screw it up, didn't you?"

Han tried to speak, but liquids gushed out from him like a sputtering engine instead. It's not my fault, it was Sīn-Ní, Yēn Sīn-Ní, that bitch...

One of Gazini's feet struck out and landed in Han's gut. It was a light kick, but his body jolted and he puked.

"God, he's useless," the old man spat. "An entire island tuned to his magic, and he still lost to the same woman he set free those years ago. Maybe she should've been the mage I trained and used instead."

"She could even control Han's body," Teach added, "it was a level of subjugation magic I've never seen before."

"Really now? She must have learned that from good old Sybil. I should've paid more attention when she was able to slip away from the castle. What if she's the real key to the portal?"

"She could be. I do think she is the one who opened the original portal. I've been using her blood alongside Han's to sustain Cece for a while, and it's been quite effective."

"Intriguing, really intriguing. A small and weak girl like that being the key. I regret having neglected her. I need to study her more."

"Should I bring her back?"

"Of course! I want her now, no, I need her now. This guy's usefulness is used up, and I need this girl now."

"Sure, I'll bring her over as soon as I can."

Their conversations became softer as they walked away. Soon, Han was alone in the grand hall, bleeding, wheezing, dying.

But that didn't matter; nothing mattered anymore, not the pain, not the injuries. All he knew was that the admiration and excitement he used to receive was gone. The only person in his life who had ever believed in him, who had ever respected and appreciated him, was now giving up on him. Everything good that had ever happened to him in this world, was now being stripped away.

And this was all because of Sīn-Ní. That annoying, privileged, elitist bitch who got into Raffles.

He clenched his fists.

Life was unfair, and he would make it fair again.

By killing her.