"Ugh... my head."
Ken reached for his forehead, wincing.
He had just slammed it hard against the table.
Then, suddenly, his eyes snapped open.
His gaze swept across the room, left to right—restless—searching for the blue interface he'd seen just moments before.
"Was that... a hallucination?"
A shaky sigh escaped his lips.
"How could I imagine something like that in my final moments?"
They say that when death approaches, your happiest memories come flooding back.
But for him... there were none.
Only absurd visions.
A PDF file.
Fictional skills.
"Haha... cough... cough..."
His laugh morphed into a fit of coughing. The air was growing impossible to breathe.
And yet, amidst the flames and smoke...
A strange calm settled over him.
It wasn't resignation. No.
It was something new. Almost unsettling.
"This is weird... It feels like... I could actually make it out of here?"
His eyes widened.
He scanned the room again. Everything looked the same... and yet, something had changed.
"What the... Am I losing my mind?"
Then, without warning, images began forming in his mind.
Blueprints.
Routes.
Options.
"Three...? Three?!"
He repeated the number, stunned.
"There are three ways I could survive...?"
He wanted to dismiss it—write it off as the delusion of a dying man.
But the plans took shape in his mind with relentless clarity:
Direct jump with a roll on landing
Use the second-floor balcony
Climb to the roof and descend fast
"What the hell is this...? I'm... I'm losing it..."
Sweat poured down his face, from both the unbearable heat and his disbelief.
The plans were illogical. Improbable. Suicidal.
And yet... they made sense.
They felt real.
Doable.
"But... this isn't how I think... is it?"
The fire kept advancing.
The air was thinning.
"Ah... cough... cough... cough..."
Ken dropped to his knees, coughing violently, his lungs crushed by the smoke.
But deep inside...
something had been activated.
"Argh... this is insane... Did I really just unlock my potential on the brink of death? Like in an anime?"
Ridiculous.
Yeah, the whole thing was. Completely absurd.
And yet...
A crooked smile tugged at his lips.
He recalled a line he once read in one of his dad's old books:
"When the water reaches your neck, even a thread becomes a bridge."
"Haha... screw it. If I'm going down, might as well do something insane while I still can."
He sprang to his feet, eyes gleaming with wild determination. His grin bordered on madness.
Without thinking—driven by instinct and adrenaline—he lunged toward his half-charred desk.
There, he grabbed hold of his burning gaming chair.
"Ugh...!"
His hand seared. His skin screamed.
He didn't care.
With a roar, he hurled the flaming chair at the window.
Glass exploded in a spray of shards.
The chair crashed to the ground at the foot of the massive villa.
He stepped toward the open void, gripping the ledge.
Ten meters. One look was all it took to gauge the height.
"Totally unhinged... but let's go!"
His smile was blinding.
Because what he was about to do... was unthinkable. At least, for anyone normal.
He took a deep breath.
Stepped back.
And—
He jumped.
Foot forward, straight from the third floor.
Below, the garden rushed up to meet him.
"Ahhhhh! Am I gonna die?!"
At the very last second, he tucked his knees, dropped his chin, and launched into a perfect roll.
Parkour Roll. Executed with precision.
"Arrrrgh!!"
He rolled.
Bounced.
Skidded—
And collapsed into the grass, gasping.
"Ah... ah... haha... Hahahaha!"
"I... I'm alive? What the hell is wrong with me...?"
"Ouch..."
Ken reached up to his head. Of course, the pain hadn't completely spared him.
Suddenly, two male voices echoed nearby.
"Did you hear that noise?"
"Yeah, it came from over there."
My guards... Ken thought.
He stayed perfectly still, hidden, crouched low in the bushes.
Footsteps drew closer.
But then... why do I have this strange feeling...? As if...
"Ah, it's the chair! Ken threw it. He's on the run?," said the younger of the two, dressed in a black suit.
"Hahaha... Impossible. I bet he tried to make a desperate escape... but chickened out at the last second."
Ken, just a few meters away, had completely erased his presence.
Not a breath. Not a sound.
My house... is on fire... and they're laughing?
The younger guard hesitated slightly.
"Don't you think that was a bit much?"
"What are you talking about?" asked the older one, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Setting the house on fire... wasn't that kind of overkill?"
Ken, still hidden, remained outwardly calm. But inside, the pieces were clicking into place.
I see... It was them. They're the ones who started the fire. It all adds up.
He received the revelation with an almost eerie composure.
As if it were just another fact on a long list.
The older guard chuckled as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
He slipped one between his lips.
"You're still young, kid... Hahaha... Gimme a light."
The younger one obeyed silently, pulling out a silver lighter.
He lit the cigarette, and the old man took a long drag before exhaling slowly into the night air.
"Madam Sakura gave us a clear order: find a way to compromise Kenshin's position in the family. In other words..."
He exhaled a plume of smoke and finished with a smug grin:
"The kid's nothing but a parasite to Madam Sakura."
The younger man stayed silent for a moment, then asked:
"I mean, I kinda get it… but... wouldn't it have been better to follow Lady Yuri's plan?"
The older one shrugged, amused.
"Oh yeah, that would've been hilarious. Hahaha. That bitch wanted to frame the kid for rape."
He took another drag from his cigarette.
"How do you hate someone in your own family that much, huh?"
The two men kept talking for a few more minutes, until the fire alarm finally alerted the emergency services.
It was only a matter of time before the firefighters arrived.
They had to make sure everything was perfect—nothing left behind that could come back to bite them.
And once they left, Ken—though burned, injured, and gasping for air—forced himself to his feet and began to run.
Into the darkness, through the woods, driven by a single thought:
I have to get away. I need to leave this place.
They had tried to kill him.
And if they found out he was still alive, they'd do everything they could to finish the job.
He ran, jaw clenched, the cold night air cutting through his lungs.
Ran to survive.
Ran so he wouldn't die like a stray dog.
"Haa... haa... haa..."
His pace slowed.
He had reached a wide road. The asphalt was freezing against his bare feet.
A lonely bus stop stood off to the side—worn bench, a trembling shadow under the streetlight.
Dragging his legs, breath ragged, he collapsed onto the bench.
"Haa… even... even Yuri..."
His jaw clenched.
Yuri Ishikawa. His half-sister.
Sakura Ishikawa. His stepmother.
He lowered his head, trembling.
Even her…
BAM.
BAM. BAM.
Ken slammed his fist against the bench with all his strength, pain exploding through his hand.
"What the hell is this?! What the fuck did I do?!"
His voice echoed through the empty night.
"I gave up the inheritance. The company. A proper education... I isolated myself! I never fought back against anything!"
His voice cracked. He repeated, softer, broken:
"I just... wanted a quiet life… I wasn't asking for much… not much… not much..."
And then he broke down in tears.
A memory surfaced: Yuri.
The only one who visited him every month.
Who smiled at him.
Who seemed to care.
"Even you... did you hate me too…?"
He burst out laughing.
Bitter.
Cruel.
Shattered.
"That bunch of... WHORES!"
Rage boiled inside him, wild and consuming.
Then, a phrase from his father echoed in his mind.
One of those lines scribbled in old notebooks:
"Forgiveness is the strength of the great. Vengeance, the weakness of the small."
Ken smiled, eyes empty.
"Haha… Dad… you're right… you were always right…"
He looked up at the sky.
"But look at me now… do I look like someone great, huh?"
A wave of dizziness hit him. His body swayed.
"No… I'm small… the smallest man on Earth…"
And in a mad, broken smile, like someone with nothing left to lose, he whispered:
"So... I'll take revenge."
But for that...
I have to survive.
As he slipped into unconsciousness, a familiar interface blinked into view:
---
[ Job Interview: Become a Bartender ]
Duration: 1 week
Reward: 1-month fixed-term contract
Penalty: -$100,000 (if debt is unpaid → IMMINENT DEATH)
Bartender Starter Kit ($5,000 value) – Valid for 1 week
---
That damn message again…
"Fucking piece of—"
Ken passed out.
A black van crept slowly toward the deserted bus stop.
Its headlights swept over Ken's collapsed figure.