Chapter 320

Chapter 320

At first, I thought I was dreaming, as I often wandered around in confusion, unable to distinguish between reality and dream.

As days passed, and I gained the conviction that I wouldn’t wake up from this dream, a faint smile appeared on my face. Despite the confusion in my memory, I realized that this was a very good sign for me.

I wasn’t the least bit curious about what had become of my former body. It must have died or become an empty shell.

I dismissed it lightly, feeling no need to dwell on it. However, I began to explore my life as the reincarnated self.

My former self didn’t lead a different life than my new body. I was born with everyone’s blessings, and inherited a fortune that was the envy of the world.

People admired and envied me, labeling me a ‘genius’ from a young age.

I loved that look. I loved the way they looked down on me from above, and I loved watching them fall to their knees and beg with tears in their eyes.

I believed my life would be filled with fun moments like that.

At some point, my parents, who seemed to love me and do everything for me, started to look at me with fear in their eyes.

The change in attitude wasn’t sudden overnight. They had told me every day from a very young age that when you get hurt, you bleed, and when you bleed a lot, you die.

It didn’t take long to realize that these were not typical words given to an ordinary child every day, especially considering my high IQ, sharp intuition, and intelligence.

In my previous life, my parents often took me to hospitals for psychiatric evaluations.

My suspicions turned into certainty soon enough.

My diagnosis was still the same. Antisocial personality disorder, commonly known as sociopathy.

The moment I found out that I suffered from such a condition, my mind was engulfed in deep contemplation more than shock.

‘Why can’t I kill?’

‘Because if you kill…. people, they’ll be sad.’

‘Is it wrong for people to be sad?’

‘…Well, do you want to kill someone?’

I couldn’t answer. I used to be able to casually answer, “Not really,” but after I found out the name of the disorder, I found it hard to do so.

It was difficult to figure out the reason. Was it because most people with similar disorders made headlines in the news?

Or maybe it’s because I realized early on that if I gave a truthful answer, I would be locked up in a fancy hospital somewhere.

So I decided to say something different. With tears streaming down my face, I told my mother, who grabbed me by the shoulders and asked, “I don’t want to. It’s a bad thing.”

She warmly embraced me, and I felt her exhale a sigh of relief above my head. Despite my young age, there was a profound realization at that moment.

This choice was right, and this path was the correct one.

I grew up that way, showing them the desired image and seamlessly blending into society. Occasionally, I enjoyed pleasures in secret, but I made sure to handle everything neatly and lived quietly.

My parents only caught on to my secret pleasures late. They believed all along that the treatment for my disorder was effective. However, they finally realized that I had been deceiving them all along.

It was disappointing. Not my parents, but myself.

I was confident I wouldn’t be caught, yet here I was, exposed.

Moreover, the way my parents looked at me with fearful eyes, despite not having done anything to them, was particularly irritating.

I hadn’t caused any harm to them and had lived a quiet life as they wished.

‘Everything… was all an act, an act…’

‘Ah, yes. It was all a lie.’

‘Won-a!’

‘But I didn’t lie.’

‘…’

‘I said I didn’t want to kill people.’

I only said it was something I disliked, not that it was something I shouldn’t do.

I hated how bothersome it was. In contemporary society, murder was a crime, and the criminals’ fate was a dismal prison life. How dull.

The entertainment I committed was within that vague boundary, and I did not commit murder. They just chose to die on their own.

After that, it was like there was a fog, and I couldn’t remember anything. I think I felt very relieved.

When I regained consciousness, I was not Guwon anymore but Exchetra.

My parents named me ‘Guwon,’ a name they had struggled to obtain. They often spoke like I was a precious child sent to them like salvation.

But they didn’t know. I enjoyed playing with people in desperation and telling them, ‘I will give you salvation.’

‘Exchetra! What has happened? Huh? Everything went well, right? Did you do it right? Were there no mistakes?’

A sharp voice echoed. I wiped the gleeful expression from my face upon hearing the woman’s words.

I fumbled through the memories stored in this body, trying to identify who she was. This woman loved the emperor but could not receive his love, so she filled it with greed for his power instead.

Upon recalling that this woman was this body’s ‘mother,’ I displayed a cold, expressionless face like a doll and bowed my head.

‘Yes, Mother. No problem.’