The Soul Exchange
South Korea, Midnight.
Cigarette smoke drifted in the cold air. Amidst a pile of corpses, a man sat silently, drenched in blood. A sword was buried in his chest, yet his expression remained calm.
Kael—Korea's number one assassin. Raised without love. Trained to kill from childhood. Human emotions… long buried.
But tonight was different. His wounds were too deep. Each breath came with agony. Blood wouldn't stop pouring out. His heartbeat slowed—weakening.
"So this is it…" he muttered, a bitter smirk on his lips. "After everything… this is the end?"
Far away, in another world—
A young boy with golden hair was being beaten by the palace servants' children. They mocked him, laughed, even urinated on him. He said nothing. His body trembled. His eyes were hollow.
"If there are gods out there… trade my soul… take me away from this hell…"
Two broken lives. Two crumbling worlds.
And then… all turned white.
Clean. Silent. Empty.
Like a world untouched by time.
There, two figures stood—backs facing each other.
One was a tall man, drenched in blood, his eyes cold and weary—Kael.
The other, a frail boy, pale and lifeless—
as if long dead, though still breathing.
They turned. Their eyes met.
And the white world shattered—splintered by an unseen force.
Two fates collided for the first time.
"You…" the boy whispered. Yet, he smiled.
"…Take this body. Set me free from this hell."
"…You know who I am?" Kael asked flatly.
"I only know… you want to live. And I want to die."
No more words were needed.
Just a gaze. A silent pact.
They stepped forward.
Their souls passed through each other.
And when they touched—
the white world exploded into light.
When it faded…
all that remained was the body of a small boy, collapsed on the cold stone floor of a servant's chamber. His breathing—barely there.
Outside, the rain fell heavily upon the palace.
Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating a face that was no longer the same.
Gone were the hollow eyes.
In silence, Kael opened his eyes for the first time… in a new world.
This body… felt light. Too small. Too fragile.
Then the memories came—
Wounds. Screams. Rage.
Fragments of the Third Prince's life—
Hated. Isolated. Beaten until unconscious.
All for a sin he never chose.
Queen Elenwyn Aetherwyn. The prince's mother.
Killed during a journey with her son—ambushed by bandits near the border.
But the palace cared little who swung the blade.
To them, the one who returned… brought the curse.
"So… that's why you wanted to die," Kael whispered, placing a hand on the small chest.
He sat up slowly, clutching the rough sheet of the rickety bed.
"This world… might not be any better than the one I left."
And yet, a cold smile formed on his lips.
"…But now, it's my life to live."