Chapter 4: The Fallen Angel in Oblivion

  [Seeing that name Yu Sung in the Leaderboard a Black mist started to surround Kim Ji Yung, and he started smiling while his gaze was hollow, as if the soul behind them had long since departed]

  [Something Flashed backed to his eyes...Which led him a mischievous smile#

  *Grabbing his chin with his hand*

  ‘It is really getting interesting.’- Kim Ji Yung

  [Kim Ji Yung was born into an ordinary middle-class family in South Korea, but his life was anything but ordinary. From his earliest memories, he felt like a cog in a vast, unfeeling machine—a system designed to grind him down and strip him of his humanity.

  His mother’s voice was a constant reminder of his failures. “Why can’t you be like them?” she sneered, her words sharp and unrelenting. Every failure was met with punishment, and even success was rarely enough. His father, once a brilliant mind brought low by cruel fate, sat quietly in the background, offering no protection from his wife’s relentless expectations.

  From a young age, Kim Ji Yung despised the world he was born into. To him, society was a broken matrix—a system where worth was measured in grades, achievements, and money. He hated it, hated the people who upheld it, and hated the fact that he was forced to play along. Deep down, he longed to tear it all apart and rebuild it into something better, something kinder

  When his younger brother was born, Ji Yung believed he had found a way to escape the system. He vowed to protect his brother from the relentless expectations that had crushed him. But the world had other plans.

  His mother, who had only ever scorned Ji Yung, adored his younger brother. She lavished him with affection, shielding him from pressure, and spoke to him with a gentleness that Ji Yung had never known. It stung, but Ji Yung swallowed his envy, replacing it with love. His brother became his solace, a fragile light in an otherwise dark world.

  But that light was snuffed out far too soon. His brother was murdered by their father’s relatives—greedy, callous people who saw the child as an obstacle in their battle for property. The loss shattered Ji Yung’s parents. His mother, once so unyielding, crumbled into a hollow shell. His father, already fragile, succumbed entirely. Together, they took their own lives, leaving Ji Yung behind without a second thought.

  At nine years old, Ji Yung was taken in by his paternal grandfather, the only person who had ever shown him true kindness. For two months, he experienced something close to peace. His grandfather encouraged his curiosity, nurturing the part of Ji Yung that sought solace in nature and animals. In those moments, Ji Yung dreamed of escaping the chaos of humanity entirely, of living in a world untouched by greed and cruelty.

  But grief is a relentless predator. His grandfather, overwhelmed by the tragedy and betrayal within their family, passed away. Ji Yung was left alone once more, abandoned to the whims of his father’s siblings—the very people who had murdered his brother.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  They stripped his family of its wealth and cast Ji Yung aside. His mother’s sister, a single mother herself, begrudgingly took him in. To her, he was a burden, a reminder of tragedies she wanted to forget.

  During this time, Yu Sung entered his life. A cousin whose name was spoken in reverent tones, Yu Sung was everything —a prodigy, a genius, a golden child. His brilliance seemed effortless, and Ji Yung, desperate for connection, sought his friendship.

  But Yu Sung dismissed him with cold indifference. Ji Yung was invisible to him, and worse, his aunt used Yu Sung as a measure of Ji Yung’s failures. “Why can’t you be more like him?” she asked, her words cutting deeper than she realized.

  The comparisons left Ji Yung feeling hollow. He began to question his own worth, wondering if he was even meant to be human. Humanity, with its greed, cruelty, and relentless demands, felt alien to him.

  At ten years old, Ji Yung noticed a man following him—a shadowy figure who seemed to orchestrate his suffering. This man threatened anyone who cared for Ji Yung and left destruction in his wake. Some were killed outright, while others were ruined beyond repair.

  At first, Ji Yung was paralyzed by fear. But fear gave way to anger, and anger became resolve. Ji Yung didn’t just turn the table on the man—he obliterated it completely.

  His revenge was meticulous, cold, and devastating. Ji Yung manipulated the man’s surroundings, planting seeds of mistrust and discord until his life unraveled. Friends became enemies, allies abandoned him, and his once-stable existence crumbled. Ji Yung didn’t torture him—he destroyed him mentally, making survival itself unbearable.

  When the man finally died, broken and alone, the authorities refused to believe a child could orchestrate such a meticulous downfall. Ji Yung was spared, dismissed as an innocent bystander.

  But Ji Yung knew better. He wasn’t a victim anymore—he was a force of nature, honed by the cruelty of the world around him.

  By thirteen, Ji Yung had abandoned all hope of love or connection. He fled to Japan with one of his father’s old friends, a man who gave him shelter but no real companionship. In Japan, Ji Yung found himself truly alone.

  Even in isolation, Ji Yung couldn’t escape his own brilliance. Without meaning to, he crushed the dreams of those around him. His talent was monstrous, a suffocating force that left even prodigies in despair.

  To the world, he was a genius who defied logic. To himself, he was an alien in a world he didn’t belong to. He questioned his purpose, wondering if he was meant to be something else entirely.

  And yet, deep within him, there lingered a foreboding truth.

  “He is not a destroyer by force, but by design. The world will not crumble under his wrath, but will fall willingly, drawn to the paradox of destruction that feels like peace.

  They will not fear him; they will crave the end he brings. For he does not shatter—it is far more elegant than that. He dismantles piece by piece, until what remains yearns for the final touch, desperate to be undone.

  And in that craving lies the seed of the world’s undoing. Not a war, not a storm, but the quiet, beautiful ruin brought about by a hand so masterful that even destruction seems like art.

  The world will look into his golden eyes, see its reflection, and beg to be broken, for his touch promises freedom from the chains it never knew it bore.

  This is what will lead the world to its destruction—not chaos, but peace. And it will not resist, for he who destroys things beautifully leaves nothing but the desire to be destroyed.”]

  ‘It seems like it will give me a hard time. But i will Manage it.’

  ‘Ok shall The Game Begin’