
Overview
Catalog
Chapter 1
PROLOGUE: FIGHT OR FLIGHT
After Covid, my construction companies went bankrupt.
"I want a divorce!" my wife yelled at me on the day we went bankrupt, blaming me for poor of money, the debts and the injustices forced upon us by others.
In the turmoil, our daughter died due to a lack of money and other unbearable hardships.
When I had lost everything, all I had left was my hollow soul.
Then World War III erupted. Israel, Palestine, Russia, Ukraine, France, the USA, and other nations turned the globe into a stage for what seemed to be the final grand fireworks of humanity.
Driven by a death wish, I joined the mercenaries.
Ironically, the more I longed for death, the more adept I became at dealing death to others. I devised ruthless strategies, slaughtering countless enemies, always surviving, hoping that each battle would be my last.
But somehow, I endured—war after war, year after year, just killing and surviving.
After 20 years on the battlefield, I rose through the ranks and eventually became a Marshall, the pinnacle of military command, at 60.
Through the bonds formed in the trenches, I gained control over one of the most formidable world military forces, now aiming to be the World’s president.
Even the President regarded me with a mix of fear and respect.
Attempts on my life were frequent, but I was too cunning to fall for assassination plots.
Whenever someone dragged me into conflict aiming to take my life, I emerged victorious, growing stronger and more influential with each battle.
What didn’t kill you will make you stronger.
And bad guys live longer. So I tried hard to be a bad guys.
On one day, a scenario I had never imagined unfolded when my butler informed me that the president's granddaughter, who was only 10 years old, wished to meet the hero of the nation.
Despite being the president, I believe he still had a soft spot for his daughter, allowing his granddaughter to meet someone he considered his political rival.
He was aware of my ambition to become the President of the world.
“Old Marshall,” the small young woman ran to me. Young children always reminded me of my lost daughter.
I walked down to her and gave her a big hug. Suddenly she looked at me with tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said.
I noticed she was wearing a jacket full of bombs under her beautiful clothes.
I knew what all of this meant. The president, that bastard, was even using this way to sacrifice his own granddaughter to kill me.
‘How ugly can one's heart be?’
"Don't afraid," I replied and hugged her while smiling. "Let's leave this place and go to heaven. I will introduce you to my daughter."
The explosion, triggered by a remote controller aimed at me, occurred. I calmly accepted my fate.
‘I am tired of this life anyway.’
In the emptiness, my heart desires a chance...
‘If only I had a second chance for all my regrets.’
In a white, empty room after death, I found two people sitting opposite me at a table: a devilishly handsome man in black and an angelically beautiful woman in white.
"I will give you a second chance. I will return you to when you were 13 years old, with all your memories intact. What do you think?" asked the man in black with a dangerous smile.
"He is the devil; please don't listen to him," said the beautiful woman in white.
"I am an angel. You are already dead; please go to heaven. This life is a trap of the devil, a samsara that uses humans' negative emotions or sins to empower the devil. You will never get out of life once you indulge yourself in sin."
The man in black laughed. "Remember, you can make all your choices from the start, remake all your decisions. Be what you truly want to be.
Make your heaven on earth, with your own hands. Erase all your regrets, build your empire, and get everything you desire!!! MONEY! WOMEN! POWER!"
The woman gently placed her hand on mine and said "Please understand, the world is an evil trap. Don't have attachment to it. Just go to heaven. Don't indulge yourself in desires and wants. You have already done all the good things, even though you were poor in the world; you will be rich in heaven."
Deep in my heart, I knew I was supposed to choose to go to heaven and end all of this...
But what if...
Only if...
I have a second chance…
I slammed the table and yelled, "Forget heaven! I am done being good, please give me a second chance. I am going to fuck all the girls that show interest in me, I will marry the girl I love the most. I will become rich and start stepping on all the bad rich guys. I want to be the very best version of myself. I want to be the president of the world. Just give me the second chance. I am done being the good guy!"
"I am going to be the baddest human alive!"
The devil clapped his hands, and the angel had a headache.
So this is my story, a second chance with a system.
And suddenly everything turned bright.
In the sleepily moment I was thinking.
‘How many regrets do I have in this life?’
Was it the pretty girl who liked me when I was 13 years old, yet I lacked the courage to make her mine?
‘I'm supposed to kiss her, make love with her, and let her take my virginity whenever she desires.’
Or at 17, when a girl loved me and wanted to make love with me, yet I chose to run away just because of fear or good moral?
‘Fuck good morals? How foolish can one be? I'm supposed to give her my best two hours of non-stop lovemaking with 101 Kama Sutra positions and aim to be the best gigolo on the earth.’
Or at 23, when I had 10,000 bitcoins that I could have kept, but used them just to buy two pizzas? And now, the price of bitcoin is $100,000 per coin.
‘I suppose to have $1,000,000,000 by now, but I used it to eat that fucking pizza.’
At the age of 30, I made the decision to marry a woman who seemed like a safe option because she was poorer than me and didn't threaten my big ego. Yet, she would divorced me for being poor.
Even though my dreams were filled with another woman, the one of my dreams who set my heart ablaze and stirred my mind wildly, someone I felt ready to give my life for.
However, her wealthy, affluent background held me back from confessing my feelings. I was not brave enough to execute a poor son-in-law story in real life; it would be a tragic reality.
‘I am just a poor guy who harbored a dream of marrying someone seemingly out of reach.’
‘A toad dreaming of a swan and dying, drowning in regret.’
‘Regret... regret... and many more regrets...’
Still, I wonder, where did I go wrong in this life? I have done my best; I'm a hard worker and have been a good person.
I never harmed anyone, never did anything bad, never thought of hurting people or stealing because it is not allowed by saints and all religions.
‘Fuck them all.’
I have never been a jerk. I have only been with one woman my entire life, even though I had opportunities for more. I am a kind-hearted man. A perfect example of a gentleman, a righteous person, and a hero.
‘I want a harem; fuck being a good guy!’
I want my second chance!
I want to be villain!
***
After a hazy dream, I awoke on the ground and looked around.
"Give me your money," demanded Roger, a middle school student bully who frequently extorted money from me.
He looked younger, exactly like my middle school memories. He was always flanked by his two followers.
An utterly despicable person, he was foolish yet brave. It's baffling how, in 20 years, he could become a district representative, more successful than me, given his history of only engaging in wrongful acts as a youth.
Each day, I endeavored to avoid him.
I even held my pee because he was always near the toilet, stealing money from people and smoking. But today was different.
I ran out of luck. After he kicked me, causing me to black out briefly, I regained consciousness, with all my memories intact. His face, the one that had often demanded money from me, was etched in my memory.
"What are you staring at? Hand over your damn money. Don't make me wait," Roger ordered.
He kicked me again, but I managed to dodge. Smiling at him, I realized the pettiness of a child's squabble.
However, for a man who had endured war and eliminated nearly a million enemies, retaliation was a thrilling prospect.
I recalled the movements needed for a powerful attack. With my small, untrained body, I executed a flawless jab with the help of my waist, aiming for his nose and breaking it.
It hit perfectly and precisely causing blood from Roger’s nose.
"Let's be a bad guy." I mused.
He didn’t see that coming. And I enjoyed his painful expression.
The others, taken aback, became easy targets for my rapid strikes to their necks.
“You think you can hit me like before without me hitting back!” Overcome with anger, I continued to kick Roger repeatedly until the female students began to cry and called for a teacher to intervene.
Roger collapsed, his friend run away.
"I am back! I am done being the good guy! Screw the world! I am going to destroy the world! No, I will be the first president of the world. I will fuck all kinds of girls, from white to black skins, with rainbow colors in the middle!"
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