"No way… they actually adapted the Shadow Temple arc?"
Jarden Park grinned, eyes glued to his cracked laptop screen, ramen bowl teetering on the edge of his desk. Steam fogged the air, mingling with the dim glow of his desk lamp and the soft hum of lo-fi beats through cheap speakers.
It was late—dangerously late—but sleep could wait.
After all, he'd been waiting for this moment for months. The manhwa adaptation of Swordmaster's Youngest Son had finally reached the part where Jin Runcandel, cast out by his family, starts wielding forbidden magic. A pivotal scene. One Jarden had already imagined a hundred times.
He knew the story like scripture.
He'd devoured every translated chapter of the web novel, even using shady fan forums to get access to raw Korean scans. He knew every character's motivations, every betrayal, every twist before it hit the panels. But something about seeing it illustrated—watching Jin glare into his brother's soul during the Black Hall sparring match—sent a chill through his spine.
"You're one ruthless little monster," Jarden murmured, grinning. "Just like I'd be."
That was his running joke: If I were in Jin's world, I'd play it smarter. Sneakier. I'd outclass the whole damn clan. He'd say it during late-night debates on Discord, arguing fan theories, crafting headcanons, tweaking hypothetical stat sheets for "what if Jin had a twin."
A twin with magic and sword skills? Unthinkable. Heretical. Delicious.
He leaned back in his chair, slurping the last of his noodles. Lightning flashed outside, a summer storm rolling through the city.
"Imagine if I got reborn there," he muttered, half-laughing. "I'd rewrite the damn plot."
Then, his screen flickered.
Reddish static surged across the monitor, warping the colors on Jin's face mid-panel. Jarden sat forward, frowning. "Oh come on, not now—"
The lights popped.
Then the air shifted.
A low hum flooded the room, like reality itself had glitched. His laptop sparked. The ramen bowl shattered. And then—
BOOM.
A surge of crackling energy slammed through Jarden's chest, and his world bent sideways.
He felt everything. Every nerve caught in a frozen scream. He didn't even have time to panic—just the instinctual realization:
This is it.
When Jarden opened his eyes, he found himself floating in a void that made space itself feel claustrophobic.
It was… nothing. Yet alive.
A presence watched him—ancient and curious.
"Huh. You're early."
The voice didn't echo; it landed directly in his thoughts.
A figure formed, not from light or shadow, but from source code. Strings of numbers, fragments of DNA, celestial patterns—all converging into the shape of a man in a pristine white hoodie and flip-flops, sipping boba tea.
"Welcome to the Back-End. I'm ROB. Random Omnipotent Being. HR usually handles this, but I drew the short straw." He took a sip. "So, monitor incident, huh?"
Jarden blinked. "What… the hell?"
"Technically? You shouldn't be here. Your Earth timeline had you living to 87 and becoming an award-winning fantasy author. But I, uh… accidentally let an unstable cosmic energy surge leak into your dimension. Kinda like divine EMP."
Jarden squinted. "You killed me… with a bug?"
ROB winced. "Bug, divine hiccup, multiversal misfire. Listen—since this was our fault, corporate policy demands I give you a compensation package."
The void shimmered.
Three glowing icons appeared in midair like UI options from a game:
🗡️ Reincarnation
🧠 Meta Knowledge
👑 Three Wishes
Jarden, still blinking, slowly tilted his head. "This is… real?"
"As real as the final plot twist in your favorite manhwa," ROB said, raising an eyebrow. "Also, nice taste. Swordmaster's Youngest Son? Underrated political maneuvering. Ten outta ten sibling betrayal arcs."
Jarden's heart skipped. "Wait. If I choose reincarnation… can I go into that world?"
"You've read the plot. You know the rules. You realize how bloody and cutthroat the Runcandel world is, right?"
Jarden's face hardened. "I do. And I know how Jin wins—barely. With no support. What if… someone like me was there too? With the knowledge, the power, the preparation?"
ROB stared at him for a long moment, then smirked. "You want to be a twin. Jin's twin. Rewriting the board before the first piece is moved…"
"Yes," Jarden said, his voice clear now. "Make me his twin. Grant me the powers of the Shadow Monarch. And give me talent—in both sword and magic. I want my stats to break the setting."
"And your memories?"
"Leave them intact. I want to play this world like a speedrun—except with heart. I'm not just surviving. I'm changing the script."
A long pause. Then ROB exhaled dramatically.
"Well damn," he muttered. "I like you."
He snapped his fingers.
"The world you know will change slightly. Jin will remain Jin, but with deviations. You'll have until your tenth birthday to awaken. Your powers will be sealed until then. Survive childhood. Earn your spot. Change fate if you can."
Jarden nodded. "Deal."
The void collapsed into a burst of shadow and starlight. As the world slipped from under his feet, ROB's voice echoed one last time:
"Good luck, Shadowborn. This time, the story remembers you."