In what appeared to be an office with white all over, white chairs, desks, walls and the floor, two people were sitting across each other.

"Shawn Dillon, 41 years old. Died in 2019 saving his, friend? From a kidnapping attempt, which is...ironic."

A middle-aged-looking man with short black hair with grey streaks was sitting on a chair in some sort of office, looking at the old man in front of him.

"Is there a reason for reciting my information like this?"

The old man lifted his eyes from the paper he was reading.

"No. It just surprises me that you of all people would risk your life for someone else."

Shawn pulled a cigarette and a lighter out of his coat pocket. He lit it up, puffed on it and sighed as the smoke came out of his mouth.

"I guess I just wasn't that attached to life anymore. I also wouldn't call him my 'best friend' per say. More like an annoying acquaintance."

The old man rolled his eyebrows, mildly impressed that Shawn had a strong enough mind to conjure things in his space. This was the space between the realm of the living and of the dead. The name of the old man was Lazarin, a god of the 12th Gate who grabbed Shawn's soul out of habit from the cycle of reincarnation after feeling it was stronger than normal souls.

"And yet you still saved him?"

"I'd say I took the easy way out. He's still trapped in that god-forsaken world for at least another twenty years. I think I lucked out actually. A bullet to the head does end things fast."

"I do have a faint suspicion but, intrigue me boy. What made you so unattached to your life. You had a good thing going actually. You could've even dodged that bullet if you so wished and annihilated everyone."

Shawn sighed at the fact of being called 'boy' but ignored it.

"If I was born maybe a hundred years earlier, I'd be slightly more attached to my life. There was lots of information going around back then and it was much easier to access it. I could've found a way to break past human limits. It's a shame I wasn't born in 1930 or earlier. By the time I was rising up as an assassin, technology rose even faster and secrets were buried even deeper."

He drew a smoke and continued.

"By the time I was in my late 30s, I knew I wouldn't have enough time to find a way to break past the human limits. Too many organisations hated me to provide any information or leads and I was too busy trying to kill them off to keep searching for methods. Especially the Vatican. I've lost count of how many fanatical idiots came after me and offered to crucify me as a way of salvation."

He scoffed.

"Salvation my ass. If it wasn't the Vatican, it was the Americans. You know how self-centred those pricks are? They tried to rope me in multiple times and when they couldn't get me with the carrot, they tried the bullet method. That's why I had to lop off the heads of so many family heads that collectively ruled that degrading country."

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His expression turned from the one of mocking to one of pure anger.

"I don't even want to begin talking about those underground science institutions. They were really annoying. Damn scientists. Ever since they managed to get a needle's worth of my blood, the number of assassins after me increased by at least a hundred times."

He sighed.

"It's why I resorted to just settling my affairs and help my family you know? Have my parents live the soft life and stuff since once I got too old, I'd be killed anyway."

He puffed out a plume of smoke before he continued.

"Never expected I would risk my life for that idiot though. He just had to have slept with the enemy's daughter and get caught. But…I don't regret saving him. I at least, won't have to bear the pain of feeling my body lose its edge."

"I see. So, what is it that you want now?"

He leaned forward, a serious expression replacing his nonchalant facade.

"I've seen things during the jobs I've taken that have shown me that there is more to the world than what we can see with our own eyes. I've killed people who had money, power and influence, but it meant nothing in the end once their brain matter splattered over their golden toilets. I want real power, the kind that comes from within, that can't be taken away by anyone else. I want to be able to control my own fate, to be able to shape the world as I see fit or piss all over it if I wish. I know that this kind of power doesn't exist on Earth, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to find it. What I want is absolute power, power that belongs solely to me."

Lazarin silently listened to Shawn's words and he understood his reasons.

[If Yahweh hadn't placed that curse on humans that shrunk their lifespan from a millennium to just barely over a century and also sealing their potential, I wonder how powerful this boy would've become.]

In all the hundreds of millions of years he's lived, there were far too few people from Earth who had the same potential as Shawn but were vastly limited by Yahweh's curse after humanity angered him greatly.

[I really want to see what will happen if I break his curse.]

After the silence continued for a few minutes, Lazarin looked up.

"You have happened to intrigue me boy. Tell you what, I'll offer you 5 wishes and then send you to a parallel world of earth. What do you say?"

Shawn frowned.

"And the price?"

He wants to attain a level of power that allows him to control his own fate and shape the world as he sees fit even if it means swallowing his pride and asking for help from a being like Lazarin, a god of the 12th gate. He doesn't know whether he can trust Lazarin to not screw him over in the future but he has no choice but to bet on this chance.

"There is no price besides entertaining me. Perhaps you could become the god of that planet after some time-"

"Not interested."

The old man was surprised.

"What?!"

Shawn shrugged while snuffing out the last embers of his cigarette.

"I said I'm not interested. I'd sooner destroy the planet than rule over it."

The old man was momentarily surprised.

"Hoho! You intrigue boy. Tell me. Don't you dream of domineering over an entire planet?"

"To lose valuable time for training? I'm no idiot. If you exist, then I'm sure another person similar to your calibre exists. I'll relax when I'm strong enough to beat you."

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

The old man wiped a tear from his eye.

"You said 'when'? Not 'if'?"

Shawn let out a daring smirk.

"Should, you let me live long enough, I'm confident I can surpass you in strength. Granted I'd probably have to train for a shitload of millenniums squared."

He scoffed at the end of his answer. Meanwhile, the old man observed him intently.

[Maybe he won't fail. He may just be the one who can successfully revive the demon race. I sincerely hope he isn’t attached to his humanity or I will have to throw him back into the cycle of reincarnation like the others.]

He hid his thoughts and chuckled.

"I've never met a mortal as interesting as you boy. Tell me your 5 wishes."

(Edited on 2023/04/03: Grammar and/or punctuation errors)

(AN: If you find any grammatical or punctuation errors in the following chapters, add a comment.)