Of all the creatures he could have been reincarnated as, fate had chosen the one he despised the most.
A human.
The thought alone made his brows knit together as he stared at the warped reflection in the small mirror hanging inside the church dormitory.
Humans… he hated them, and he had good reasons. It was because they had tortured him.
In his previous life, he had done absolutely nothing to deserve it. He had simply lived his life—quietly crawling through dark corners, scavenging for crumbs, and minding his own business. Yet humans always reacted the same way when they saw him–they screamed, they panicked, then came the slippers.
Massive rubber sandals would slam down toward him again and again as he ran desperately across the floor. To them, it was just pest control but to him, it was war.
Sometimes he escaped.
Sometimes he barely survived.
But the last day of his life… he had survived the slippers.
The memory forced its way into his mind like an unwelcome nightmare.
A hand.
A small human hand.
It had reached down and grabbed him, lifting his tiny body into the air.
Xeroquiel shuddered violently. "AH!" He shook his head quickly, as if trying to physically throw the memory out. "No. Not thinking about that."
He rubbed his temples in frustration.
"Tsk… Why did I have to become a human?" His brows furrowed even deeper.
Out of every creature in existence—wolves, birds, dragons maybe—why did fate pick this species?
He leaned back in the wooden chair and stared at the ceiling beams.
For a moment, a strange thought crossed his mind. "Should I just kill myself now that I remember everything?"
He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
It was a genuine question. If reincarnation worked once, maybe it would work again. Who knows? Maybe he'd respawn as something cooler next time. A tiger. A phoenix. A slime monster.
After a few seconds, however, he shook his head. "...Nah."
He stood up and stretched his arms. "Anyway… I like this body I trained."
He flexed his arm, admiring the muscles beneath his sleeve. "Not bad," he muttered. "Not bad at all."
Being human, as much as he hated to admit it, had some advantages. For instance—He bent his knees slightly and jumped.
His body shot upward with surprising force, his legs spreading into a wide split in midair before landing lightly back on the wooden floor. "I can do this," he said proudly.
"And this." Then he leaned backward slowly until his spine curved into a perfect U-shape, his palms touching the floor behind him.
He returned to a standing position effortlessly. Suddenly he paused, staring back at the mirror.
"…Wait." He leaned closer. "My face…" He tilted his head slightly, studying his features. Black hair. Sharp eyes. Clear skin. "…isn't bad either."
He turned his face left, then right. If he were being honest with himself… "…I'm actually pretty handsome."
Still, the most fascinating thing about being human wasn't the strength or the flexibility. It was something else entirely.
He raised one hand in front of him then a faint glow flickered in his palm.
Energy gathered between his fingers, crackling softly like trapped lightning. The air around his hand distorted slightly as the power intensified.
Magic.
Humans in this world possessed the ability to manipulate mysterious energy and somehow, he had inherited that ability as well.
Yet despite all of that, there was still one thing about his new life that he despised. He was a nobody.
An orphan.
No noble family.
No wealth.
No powerful name to rely on.
Just another unwanted child raised in a poor church.
If anyone were to guess what he was in his previous life after seeing him now, they'd probably imagine something impressive like… An Overlord. A Demon King. A Dark Lord ruling over countless monsters. The kind of existence worthy of legend.
But the truth was far less glamorous, because in his previous life… he had been a cockroach. Yes. A cockroach, and if anyone were curious how such a "magnificent being" met his end…
The memory returned once again.
A small human child had picked him up. At first, he had believed himself lucky because there's no slippers, no crushing death, just curiosity. But then the child began removing his legs.
One.
By.
One.
Even now, remembering it sent phantom pain racing through his shoulders.
"Shit!" he groaned, grabbing his arms dramatically. "It still hurts!"
He had been living as a human since infancy without remembering any of this until today. Today was the day everything returned, the memories, the humiliation, and the trauma.
For years he believed he was just a normal boy growing up in a poor church orphanage. He trained his body, learned basic magic, and adapted to human life. All the while unaware that he had once been… A cockroach. And now that memory has come back to haunt him or perhaps simply to embarrass him forever.
In the midst of reminiscing about his past life, a brilliant light suddenly swallowed his vision.
"What the—"
The world disappeared.
When the light faded, he found himself sitting on the ground in a strange white space. Endless. Featureless. Completely empty.
He squinted suspiciously. "Okay… either I'm dead, dreaming, or someone forgot to load the background texture."
A figure suddenly appeared in front of him. An elegant woman with silver hair and glowing wings. She looked calm. Almost divine.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed, scrambling backward. "Who are you?! Where am I?!"
The woman smiled gently. "Greetings, Mr. Cockroach—now upgraded to human form, also known as Xeroquiel."
His eyes widened in shock. "Wait!" He pointed at her. "I remember you!"
She tilted her head slightly.
"You're the lady I talked to when I died as a cockroach!" he continued.
"I'm honored to be remembered," she replied politely.
"WHY am I here?!" he demanded. "I didn't die again, did I?!"
The angel just looked at him calmly, saying, "You are here because you need to know you are going back to the past."
He blinked. "Excuse me—what?"
"You failed your duty," she continued. "Therefore, you must return and redo it. If you make the same choices again… I will keep sending you back until you figure it out."
Xeroquiel stared at her blankly. "Couldn't you just tell me what I'm supposed to do?"
The angel merely smiled, then she raised her hand. "Now then… please prepare to depart."
"HEY!" he shouted. "You skipped my question!"
The world flashed white again. When his vision returned, he was sitting on the floor of the church once more.
On his side stood a church Sister, holding a baby. In front of him was a train toy.
His mind froze as he saw the toy and how small his hands were. "I'm really back…"
The Sister looked down at him gently. "Xero," she called softly, "don't you really want to go to the academy?"
Xeroquiel immediately turned his head away. "Hmph! How many times do I have to repeat myself? I don't want to!"
The thought of attending an academy meant something terrible—meeting more humans and he disliked it. Besides, they were poor. How exactly were they supposed to afford an elite academy anyway?
—
Five years passed.
Nothing strange happened. The angel didn't appear again and no time was reset.
Xeroquiel stretched comfortably beneath the sunlight outside the church.
"Nothing's happened so far," he said with a grin. "I think I chose the right path."
Then suddenly a light appeared.
His smile vanished instantly. "No way…"
The white void returned, and so did the angel.
"Greetings, Mr. Cockroach—now upgraded to human form, also known as Xeroquiel."
"You again?!" he groaned. "Why am I here this time?!"
"You are here because you need to know you are going back to the past."
"Again?!"
"You failed your duty. Therefore, you must return and redo it."
Xeroquiel stared at her in disbelief.
"If you make the same choices again," she continued calmly, "I will keep sending you back until you figure it out."
She raised her hand. "Now then… please prepare to depart."
"NOOO!"
The world flashed, and he was suddenly back in the church—back to the moment when the sister was holding a baby.
"Xero," she asked once more, "don't you want to go to the academy?"
"Hmph! How many times do I have to repeat myself? I don't want to!"
Inside, he screamed. "I'm back again after all the hard work I had done planning revenge against humans?!"
Four years later, he clenched his fists.
"Time to finally get my revenge before I get dragged back to that stupid white place again." He laughed.
But before he could act a light exploded around him.
"No!" he shouted, dropping to his knees. "I haven't done anything yet! I demand more time!"
The white void returned once more.
This time, the voice that greeted him sounded colder.
"Greetings, Mr. Cockroach—now upgraded to human form, also known as Xeroquiel. You are here because you need to know you are going back to the past."
"I KNOW THAT ALREADY!" he shouted.
"You failed your duty therefore, you must return and redo it. If you make the same choices again, I will keep sending you back until you figure it out—"
"Again?!"
"Now then… please prepare—"
"Hold on!" Xeroquiel interrupted desperately.
"Is it because I want revenge against humans?!"
There was a brief silence.
Then the angel spoke again. "Please prepare to depart."
Xeroquiel grabbed his head in frustration. "ARGH! Could you at least say YES or NO?!"