1

The sun set on the western horizon, and the sound of car horns and motorcycles echoed through the streets, signaling the bustle of people returning home from work. The city was alive and vibrant. In just a few days, the year would come to an end, and tourists from nearby cities had already begun arriving for the holidays. A festive atmosphere filled the air. Families gathered, their laughter ringing from living rooms, and young couples roamed the streets with smiles and cheer.

But behind a foggy window, a pair of dim eyes watched quietly.

No one knew how long William had been confined in that room. Although there were no chains binding him and the door wasn’t locked with bars, he couldn’t leave. The chains that held him were the IV drips connected to his body, and the door that barred his way was nothing but a sliding door—easily opened, yet completely unreachable.

William had once been a normal boy with a bright and happy youth. He had plenty of friends at school and high hopes for the future. Life had been perfect—until one day, something in his body felt wrong. It all happened so fast. Like a cruel stepmother, the world snatched away everything that once brought him joy. His strong, muscular body withered to little more than skin and bone. His once-bright eyes, filled with wonder, dulled over time. His skin grew pale as his health deteriorated.

It wasn’t just William’s life that changed—his entire family was affected, too. His parents grew thin from worry, and his younger siblings, once so close to him, avoided his gaze. William blamed himself for everything. He often wondered why he was still alive if his only purpose now was to burden the people he loved.

His friends had visited him often at first. They came with smiles and words of encouragement, offering their prayers and support. But as the months turned into years, those visits became fewer and fewer, until eventually, they stopped altogether. All that remained were unread text messages, piling up on his phone like dust-covered relics of a forgotten past.

“What’s the point of all this? How does this story end?”

Beside William’s bed, stacks of books piled high—books he read to pass the time. To him, those books were gateways to other dimensions, full of thrilling adventures and fantastical worlds that didn’t exist in this one.

“If only magic were real... Maybe there’s a spell that could cure me.”

His voice was full of hopelessness, wrapped neatly in a thin veil of hope. A single tear slipped down his cheek, soaking into his white hospital gown. He had no idea what to do anymore. He had tried everything—done everything—but all his efforts yielded nothing. He wanted to curse the world and everyone in it, demanding answers. Why? Why didn’t anything work? Why had this happened to him? What had he done to deserve this?

But deep down, he knew no one could answer those questions. He was just angry at a world that seemed to ignore his suffering.

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening and closing broke the silence. Heavy footsteps echoed across the floor, as if their owner wore boots made of lead. The footsteps drew closer, but William kept staring out the window, refusing to acknowledge the presence of the stranger now sitting beside his bed.

“Good evening, William. I’m here to take you away.”

William turned toward the stranger, startled by the strange words. Sitting beside him was a pale man with glowing golden eyes. William flinched. He had never seen this person before—an odd figure dressed entirely in black, from his hat to his shoes.

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“Who are you?! Doctor! NURSE!”

The man said nothing, his glowing eyes locked onto William’s without blinking.

“No one’s coming.”

William pressed himself into the farthest corner of the bed, his body trembling. He didn’t know who—or what—stood before him. The man looked human, but no human had eyes like molten gold or skin as pale as his.

“Who are you?! I’m not going to be part of any more drug experiments or weird therapies! Enough is enough!”

“I’m not here for experiments,” the man said calmly. “I’m here to take you to the next world.”

William’s throat tightened, his chest grew heavy, and his head went numb. What did he mean by “next world”? Was he an assassin? But who would want him dead? William had no friends left—certainly no enemies. His family was just a normal middle-class family.

“Who... who are you?”

“Me? I’ve been called many things. The Angel of Death. Shinigami. Grim Reaper. Charon. Yama. Jeoseungsaja. And many more. But those are just titles humans have given me.”

William’s body went limp, paralyzed with disbelief. None of this felt real.

“So... I’m dead? Now?”

“Yes. Now.”

“Will it hurt?”

“Everyone asks the same thing. It’s like being pricked by a thousand needles all at once.”

“That sounds painful.”

“At least you won’t be in pain like this anymore.”

“Is Heaven real?”

“Heaven, Nirvana, Elysium, Valhalla—they’re all real.”

“Will you take me there?”

“No.”

William’s eyes widened. If Heaven wasn’t his destination, then there was only one place left: Hell.

“So Hell is where I’m going? Take me there!”

“Not Hell, either.”

William stared at him in confusion. If it’s not Heaven or Hell, then where?

“Didn’t you always want to live again? In a healthy body? In one of those fantasy worlds you read about?”

“Reincarnation?! I’ll be reincarnated?!”

William had read countless novels about reincarnation in other worlds. The idea had always fascinated him, but he never believed it could be real.

The man tilted his head. “Aren’t you going to miss your family? Your parents? Your siblings? Your friends?”

William’s excitement dimmed. He lowered his gaze. “A life like this... can you even call it living? Every day, I see my parents growing weaker. My siblings look at me with what feels like hatred. My friends... they disappeared one by one, swallowed by time. If I die now, maybe... maybe I’m just freeing them from the burden of me.”

“They never hated you. Not for a second.”

“What?”

“Your parents, your siblings, your friends—they never hated you. After you’re gone, they’ll miss you. They’ll remember you for the rest of their lives. Sometimes, it’s easy to misinterpret others when you’ve already misinterpreted yourself. But now, it’s too late to realize that. It’s time for you to go.”

William was speechless. He wanted to argue, to deny it, but he knew the man was right. Tears welled up in his eyes. He wished he had known sooner.

He finally let himself cry, his sobs echoing through the room. For the first time in years, he felt free—his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

“Thank you,” William said between sobs. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s time. Do you have any last words?”

William lay back down, pulling the blanket over his trembling body. Memories of his parents, his siblings, and his old friends flooded his mind, playing like a film from his childhood to the present.

“Thank you for everything. I will dedicate my new life to the God who granted me this gift.”

The Reaper smiled. It was an odd, unsettling smile, but it didn’t matter anymore—everything about this situation was strange.

“God will call your name in that other world,” the Reaper said softly. “Leave everything behind when He does, and answer the call if that is truly your desire. If you change your mind, He will not blame you. This life will be yours to live however you choose. Your body will no longer suffer from illness, and your steps will shake the world—for that is the fate waiting for you. Live well. But remember... I will not be far away.”

A warm light enveloped William. Slowly, his eyes closed, and his body felt like it was being pricked by countless tiny needles—like sunlight gently touching his skin once more.