Chapter 1

Today is a special day—my birthday. I have officially turned 19. But that’s not the only reason I’m happy. This morning, I received my final exam results, and to my surprise and pride, I ranked first nationwide.

You might be wondering who I am.

My name is Asher Vale, and I live in India. I have blue eyes and black hair, stand 5 feet 9 inches tall, and weigh 166 pounds. Unlike most people my age, I don’t have a family—I’m an orphan, raised in an orphanage since I was a child.

Despite living in an orphanage, I’ve never truly felt a sense of belonging. I’m neither liked nor disliked. The people here tolerate me, but only because of the small financial support I provide. I work part-time at a library near my school, and 90% of my earnings go to the orphanage. That’s the only reason they allow me to stay.

But I don’t mind.

The library is more than just a job to me—it’s a treasure trove of knowledge. I work there not just for the money but because it gives me access to books. Reading has always been my escape, my passion. Unlike most of my peers, who enjoy sports, video games, or socializing, I spend my free time buried in fantasy novels—stories filled with magic, mythical beasts, and legendary warriors.

Yet, I don’t just read these stories—I analyze them.

I often imagine how different those worlds would be if they had modern weaponry. What if the knights and warriors wielded compound bows instead of longbows? What if they had carbon arrows with interchangeable heads? How would battles change if they had access to better technology?

This curiosity stems from my second passion—archery.

Unlike reading, which is a mental escape, archery is something I physically excel at. My accuracy is flawless. I can hit a bullseye from 300 meters away with ease. It’s not just a hobby—it’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years.

But enough about my past. Let’s focus on today.

Because today ... everything is about to change.

Instead of heading toward the library as I usually did, I took a different path today. I wanted to celebrate my success with a friend—someone who had unknowingly made my days a little brighter.

There was a small burger joint near my school, a place I often visited for dinner. Over time, I had become acquainted with one of the waitresses there—a cheerful girl named Vanessa. She was one of the few people I could talk to without feeling like an outsider. Though we weren’t close, our small conversations over meals had gradually turned into a friendship of sorts.

Excited to share my achievement with her, I hurried toward the burger joint, my mind filled with thoughts of celebration. Maybe I’d treat myself to a proper meal today—something more than my usual budget-friendly order.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I failed to notice the traffic signal ahead.

The pedestrian light was red, but I stepped onto the crosswalk without a second thought. It wasn’t until I reached the midpoint of the road that I heard the deafening sound of a car horn, followed by the screech of tires against asphalt.

Time seemed to slow.

I turned my head just in time to see blinding headlights rushing toward me.

Then—impact.

Pain never even registered.

In an instant, my world turned black.

And just like that, my story ended.

Or so I thought.

The Office Beyond Death

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in an office—but something about it felt surreal. There were no windows and no doors, yet the space was vast and endless. The walls stretched from floor to ceiling, completely covered with books, their spines worn with age. The scent of parchment and ink filled the air, adding an almost scholarly atmosphere to the room.

I was seated on a comfortable leather chair, positioned directly in front of a wooden desk. Across from me sat a man who looked remarkably ordinary—dressed in a formal suit, with neatly combed hair and thin-rimmed glasses. He reminded me of an insurance agent, the kind who dealt with policies and claims.

He was scribbling something in a large book, seemingly engrossed in his work. I chose to wait in silence, my curiosity growing by the second. After a few moments, he closed the book and looked up, his sharp eyes locking onto mine.

The Conversation with the Agent

“So, Mr. Vale, how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice calm and composed.

I had read enough reincarnation stories to recognize what was happening. There was no need to panic—I was already dead. So, instead of acting confused or overwhelmed, I gave him a casual response.

“As good as a dead person can be,” I said with a small smirk.

The man nodded approvingly. “I see you’re handling this rather well. No paranoia, no unnecessary drama. That makes things easier.”

“I assume you’re here to guide me into my next life?” I asked, leaning slightly forward.

“Precisely,” he confirmed, flipping through the pages of his book before stopping at a particular entry. “According to our records, you have a strong interest in worlds of magic and dungeons.”