The very next morning, two Naga soldiers with long, gleaming spears arrived.
Before I could react, one snatched me from my mother's arms, while the other dragged my father outside with brutal force.
I didn't know it then, but it would be the last time I saw him.
Oddly, deep down, I didn't feel remorse or sorrow.But my new body—my baby body—betrayed me. Tears streamed down my face.
No… they weren't tears. My eyes were sweating.
And yet, I never imagined I would regret this moment.
I was chained alongside ten other children like me, each trembling in fear. The Naga soldiers escorted us silently through the streets.
The world around us was terrifying, especially for a mind that remembered being a grown man.
I had to admit, I found it almost… funny.I even laughed quietly at the struggles of the other rat-kin, crawling on the ground like desperate rats. Their lives seemed pathetic.
I wanted to fight the Naga soldiers, to lash out in defiance. But I knew it would be useless. Even my father hadn't resisted.I felt a deep shame in my chest—ashamed to call him my father.
Soon, we were brought to a strange, towering caravan. A magical beast pulled it, resembling a horse wreathed in fiery energy, accompanied by a few Naga soldiers.
As we approached, I saw people bowing before the caravan as if it were a god. Confused and terrified, we were forced to do the same.
Then a figure entered—similar to a Naga soldier, but vastly more muscular, like a living mountain. He carried a crystal ball that shimmered with inner light.
Without warning, he slaughtered one of the Naga soldiers for sport. I realized it had been the soldier who dragged my father.The other Naga trembled violently, retrieving the crystal ball and forcing us to touch it.
"No use… no use… no use!" the trembling Naga muttered as the first few children placed their hands on the crystal ball.
Those children showed nothing—not even a single leaf. Rootless. Worthless.
Then—
A soft white leaf appeared for a child.
The Naga leader—muscular, towering, cruel—let out a low laugh.
"Finally… a usable one."
The next child touched the crystal.
Two leaves, glowing faint red.
The leader's smile widened.
"Good… very good."
The soldier forced the next child forward. That's when I realized:
White = good. Red = even better. No leaf = no use.
My turn came.
My heart thudded as I touched the crystal.
For a moment… nothing.
Then—
Light burst from the orb.
A single leaf appeared.
Not faint. Not weak.
But pure, bright, radiant white, so clean it looked as if it had been carved from moonlight itself.
The Naga soldier froze.
The leader's eyes widened—and then curved into a dangerous smile.
"Interesting… a perfectly pure White Root."
His tone wasn't mocking like before. It was sharp. Focused. Hungry.
The two children with weaker white roots were pulled aside and spared.
The rootless children were killed instantly.
I stood there, still chained, realizing I had survived because of something I didn't even understand.
A cold dread coiled in my chest.
This world judged life and death not by strength… but by worth.And worth was decided in an instant.
And now, because of my pure white leaf…
I was no longer worthless.I was something else.Something they wanted.Something they would use.
They didn't even let us see our parents—not that I particularly cared.But the other two rat‑kin children didn't share my indifference.
One, a small girl with dusty red fur, vomited after witnessing the executions.The other boy stood frozen, shaking so badly it looked like Death itself was breathing down his neck.
Meanwhile, I simply watched.
A smirk tugged at my lips.
Of course this would happen.I had the purest root among them. I was chosen. Special.In this world, only the strong lived—and the weak… I had already seen what awaited them.
Survival wasn't a matter of fairness.It was simply the way things were.And whether I liked it or not, I was part of it now.
We never even spoke to each other.We were just three abandoned children—no parents, no comfort, trapped with strangers who saw us as cattle.
And slowly, the silence began to gnaw at me.For the first time, I started to question why…Why was I here?Why was I born as a rat‑kin?What could I even do in this situation?
The bravado I had carried at the beginning… it cracked.
And the dreams—Night after night, the same scene repeated.I was back in my old office, staring at the first case I had ruined.A woman's eyes haunted me—innocent, terrified—and I had chosen money over justice.I remembered the thrill of winning for my senior, the blind loyalty that had twisted my mind.I trembled at the memory, realizing this was the first real choice that set my life on a path of ruin.
I woke each morning drenched in sweat, heart pounding.It felt as if this life itself was punishment for the sins of my last life.But I could never scream.I didn't want the other two to see how terrified I truly was.
Because in this world… even fear was a weakness.
Finally, we were allowed outside the caravan.
They dragged us out like sacks of grain and carried us into a room that smelled like something had died inside it. The stench clung to my fur, thick and rotten, crawling into my nose until I almost gagged.
And soon—my thoughts were proven right.
The three of us were shoved inside and the door slammed shut behind us.A metal lock clicked.
We weren't the only ones.The corridor outside had dozens of identical rooms, all lined up like cages in an underground slaughterhouse.
I didn't know where we were.I didn't know what they planned to do with us.
But one thing I did know—whatever was coming…
It would be more cruel than anything I had done in my last life.
That night was the first time the three of us ever huddled together, pressing ourselves into a corner where the stench was just slightly less suffocating. Even then, darkness pressed down like a living thing—we couldn't see night, couldn't see day. All we had was each other, warmth against the cold, oppressive air.
The next morning, we were dragged out once more.
This time, we were thrown into a colosseum-like arena, a vast chamber that smelled of metal, blood, and fear. Weapons of every shape and size were stacked along the walls, gleaming wickedly in the faint torchlight. The floor was worn, scratched deep with scars of battles long past.
In the center of the arena stood a monstrous goblin, taller than any rat-kin I had ever seen, its green, wrinkled skin stretched tight over rippling muscles. Sharp tusks jutted from its mouth, and long, spindly fingers ended in claws that scraped the stone floor as it shifted, sniffing the air. Its eyes burned with a malicious intelligence, like it understood far more than it had any right to.
Around the edges of the arena, other prisoners were being herded into cells. Rat-kin like me, sure, but also creatures of every shape: humanoid dogs with jagged teeth, pig-like brutes with thick hides, and even small, feathered birdfolk, wings folded tight against their bodies in fear. Some were dragged screaming, others panting in resignation. A few weakly fought back, only to be slammed to the ground by the guards—muscular Naga soldiers with spears as long as trees.
The entire place reeked of suffering, despair, and the unmistakable smell of death.
I took it all in silently, heart pounding, yet something inside me stirred—a cold, calculating sense that this was the world I had been born into, and I would either dominate it, or it would consume me.