Year 990 of the Holy Era – Proxia Empire
Beneath the surface of the opulent capital, hidden far from the light of justice or mercy, the stench of blood, sweat, and despair choked the air of the underground slave market. Iron cages lined the cold stone walls like grotesque decorations, each one holding a person stripped of dignity—humans, demi-humans, beastkin, elves. Shackled, starved, and broken, they sat in silence, waiting for whatever cruel fate awaited them.
In one of these cages, lying on the filthy floor in ragged clothes, was a boy. His silver-white hair clung to his face in tangled strands, caked with grime. Around his neck was a thick, rune-etched collar, the same as every other prisoner. But unlike the others, this boy's eyes suddenly opened—pitch-black voids that flickered with awareness.
Saji's POV
I jolted awake, heart racing. My vision swam for a moment as I stared up at a dark ceiling carved of stone. My body felt weak, sore, and cold. I tried to move but the chain around my neck tugged, restricting my range. I looked down—rags, filth, a collar. A cage. I was… caged?
My head throbbed violently.
And then it hit me. A surge of foreign memories poured into my mind like a dam breaking—memories not my own. Painful, horrifying memories.
This body… its name was Aloysius. A half-elf born to a high-elf woman who had been taken as a slave. She was raped repeatedly by human nobles and soldiers until she gave birth to him. He never even knew her face—she was killed not long after his birth. Sold like cattle, Aloysius was raised in blood and steel.
From the age of six, he was raised in this underground fight club—a hidden pit where children aged seven to fourteen were forced to murder each other for entertainment. He had only started fighting a week ago. His small hands had just begun learning how to wield daggers, not for protection—but survival.
Aloysius had one desire. One dream that burned in the ashes of his ruined life:
"To survive. To become strong. To one day build a family free from human cruelty."
As the memories faded, I sat in stunned silence, my hands shaking slightly.
"So this… is the new life I asked for?" I thought bitterly.
No golden skies or sprawling fantasy kingdoms—just blood, suffering, and chains.
But I gritted my teeth. I had wished for a second chance. I had asked to be reborn. This boy—Aloysius—his pain, his story… it was now mine too. I would make his dream my mission. Not just for him, but for myself.
Suddenly, a ding echoed in my mind. A glowing screen appeared before me.
> [System Quest: Escape from your imprisonment and destroy the collar around your neck.]
Reward:
1,000 Gold Coins
100 Silver Coins
"A system? Looks like the last wish came through," I muttered under my breath.
I tugged at the collar, but the runes etched into its surface pulsed, sending a sharp shock through my body.
"Tch—figures. It's enchanted. Designed to punish resistance."
I needed strength. I couldn't break this collar or escape in this pathetic state. But I had powers. Powers I wished for. It was time to awaken them.
From that day forward, I trained—every hour I wasn't being monitored, I trained my body and explored my abilities.
I started with the basics—push-ups, sit-ups, squats, anything to build up strength. I used the iron bars of the cage to stretch and hang, using what little space I had to push my body to its limits. I did this for five hours each day, ignoring the pain and the stench around me.
Then came the real challenge—unlocking my powers.
First was the Moku Moku no Mi, now fused with me through the X-Gene. Smoke manipulation.
I focused, breathing deeply. Slowly, thin wisps of smoke curled from my fingertips. I remembered the movements from One Piece, the way Smoker shifted and launched his smoke body. After several failed attempts, I managed to turn my forearm into smoke and pass it through the bars—only to snap it back before the collar could react. I grinned.
Progress.
Next, I turned to Cryokinesis—ice manipulation. I started by freezing moisture from the air, forming tiny cubes of ice in my palm. Then I shaped them into crude daggers, then sculptures, and finally solid weapons. I was learning to control temperature, shape, and density. One day, I managed to create a frozen spear that glistened in the torchlight. It melted quickly—but I had done it.
Time passed slowly.
Every few hours, guards—men I called "grunts"—came to check on the prisoners. I made sure to appear weak and broken whenever they came near. I couldn't afford to draw attention yet.
Not until I was ready.
Not until I had the strength to tear this place apart.
Because when the time came...
They wouldn't see me as a slave.
They would see me as vengeance.