Chapter 1 - Prologue (1)

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Until the day I died, I lived a pretty simple life. Born an orphan, I struggled against all odds to reach the age of 18. Once, I was of legal age, I joined a company and became a handyman who did odd jobs here and there to make a living. Painting houses, cleaning homes, delivering goods, wiring electronics, anything. I took any job that was available to make money and made sure to excel at each and every one. I was quite good at my jobs and it gave me the opportunity to get back at those who had forced me into the bottom rungs of society.


Although I made a lot of money working, I couldn't even enjoy it. My life had turned into a repetitive slog, a mind-numbing experience of doing the same thing over and over and over. I spent my time preparing for a job, doing the job, and resting briefly before repeating the cycle. Day in and day out, it was the same thing and I could feel my rebellion, my anger at the world that drove me to excel slowly being worn away as it was replaced by a bone-deep weariness, a lust for a change, and an opportunity to do something that wasn't dictated or ordered by another person.


The only thing that broke up my monotony was reading. I spent my time devouring any book I could get my hands on. Fiction, nonfiction, scientific texts, self-help books. Anything I could find, I read. It was an escape, a spot of color in my otherwise bleak life, and my salvation as I hoped for something better.


Eventually, I began reading fantasy novels as a way to escape reality. They helped to transport me to a different world during the few moments of downtime that I had. One series caught my eye and I was unable to put it down. Heroes Rise Again. It wasn't a revolutionary series, just one of many that had a fantasy theme with dungeons appearing in a modern world with people gaining powers and becoming heroes and villains. Although it was a completed series, I had diligently avoided spoilers and intentionally slowly read through it, one book at a time, savoring it as if it were a limited-time dessert. The reason for my attraction to the series was something so stupid that even a child would laugh at it. Simply put, there was a character who had the same name that I did.


Asani Martin.


He was a stupid villain who tried to rebel against the order of his world and kill the heroes due to an undefined grudge from his past. Truly, he was an idiot who refused to hide his identity and animosity against the heroes. He acted dumber than rocks, frequently showed off during battles, monologued while his opponents attacked him, and allowed his enemies to power up among other things. All in all, I had never read such a dumb, frustrating character in my life.


Yet I couldn't stop reading. I couldn't help but look forward to chapters containing him, hoping that he would somehow win. That he would somehow come out on top. I felt drawn to this character with the same name as me. After all, despite the odds stacked against him, despite numerous defeats and roadblocks, his anger had never stopped. He continued attacking and striving for his goal which seemed unreachable. Unlike me. Goalless and without motivation. A doll living life by going through the motions.


Then he had gotten killed in the most senseless way possible. A character that I liked had suddenly disappeared. After getting halfway through the series, reading thousands of words, and spending countless hours devouring the books, he was gone. And I was angry. I was furious at the author for giving my favorite character a foolish ending that made no sense to me.


In an out-of-character moment, I had written a long paragraph under the author's post, insulting him for making an incompetent villain since he was clearly biased and wanted his hero to win. I had insulted the author with every word possible in the English language and a few choice words in others. I called him a fraud, and told him even I, a regular person who had never written a poem much less a book could write a better villain than he could.

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