Chương 75

My mind was chaotic, swirling like a storm as I stared at my old self. He looked around slowly, observing everything with cautious eyes before letting out a sigh and dropping onto the chair. A terrifying chuckle escaped his lips.

"I came to another world just to sit in a chair again, knowing I won't stand up." He glanced at his own body, lifting his hands and flexing his fingers like he didn't quite own them.

"Fate does have a sick sense of humor if you ask me." His gaze drifted toward the ceiling, and for the first time, a hint of life flickered through his hollow eyes. When he finally looked back at me, his tone was surprisingly warm.

"Good thing you didn't forget about our sister." I slowly nodded, my mind nearly cracking under the sheer gravity of what I was experiencing.

"Who… what are you?" I muttered. He raised an eyebrow, calmly replying, "You formed me, ask yourself." Shaking my head, I clarified urgently, "Are you really the old me? How is that even possible? The jutsu shouldn't be able to do this. It doesn't make sense." He answered with an amused tone, his lips pulling into a familiar, sinister smile.

"Who knows? Maybe I'm just you. Maybe a reflection of your thoughts. Or maybe I'm the real one, and you're the clone." That smile sent chills down my spine, reminding me of the person I once was, the kind who wore a grin like that before taking the lives of those involved in my sister's death. He glanced around once more before speaking, "It's unbelievable that we ended up in another world.

Honestly, I expected somewhere different, somewhere more red, hotter, with torture demons and forked tongues and the same three Nickelback songs on loop." I chuckled, finally regaining some semblance of control, and slowly stood up before sitting down on the edge of my bed, never taking my eyes off him.

"Glad to know my sense of humor was always there, it was just buried under a lot of things." He smiled back deviously.

"Oh, our sense of humor used to be much darker than it is now. We have changed" His eyes lingered on me, clearly expecting me to speak, but I couldn't find the words. I felt shock mixed with fear. My old self was not a good person. He was vengeful, angry, manipulative, and calculating, carrying an ocean of hatred, pain, resentment, and resignation toward a cruel fate. Knowing how quickly things could turn, I considered dispelling the clone immediately, but he seemed to read my thoughts.

"Well? Out with it," he prompted, his smile mocking.

"What's the problem?" My eyes widened in surprise, and he chuckled knowingly.

"I have your memories, remember? I know how you feel. I know exactly what you want. However, I don't recall being a bitch, so say the words." If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. I sighed in resignation, looking at my old self while muttering in displeasure, "No need for such language. I'm a refined young man now." The old me laughed again, the deviousness ever-present in his tone.

Gathering my thoughts, I spoke honestly, "You know what I've been through. I just… I don't know. I'm not sure. Is this life really suitable for me? Can I handle the mental pressure? Can I keep my psyche stable and intact under all this? Or will I break, go insane, lose any trace of myself and become a lifeless, hollow human wandering aimlessly until death, never finding myself again?" He looked at me with genuine pity, then glanced up at the mural, his gaze locking onto the drawing of our sister.

His tone shifted abruptly to something cold and frightening, and suddenly killing intent surged from his body so intensely that I nearly collapsed onto the bed.

"You know," he began quietly, voice dripping with ice, "even after I killed everyone involved in her death, my anger didn't really vanish. I thought revenge would free me, but it didn't. Instead, I passed my frustration, anger, and helplessness onto you. That's why you crave strength. To fight against those feelings." His eyes turned back to me, freezing me in place.

"In this world, you actually have the chance to be strong, unimaginably so. You could grow so powerful reality itself would bend to your whims. You can make certain you never again feel what we endured in our past life." My voice rose unintentionally, responding immediately.

"But I'll have to do terrible things here to reach that level. We're child soldiers who kill people to achieve the goals of those who pay us, or those who are drunk on power. Is that really a life worth living?" He raised his eyebrows, genuinely confused.

"Killing is killing. We're no strangers to it. The issue isn't killing itself, it's living for a reason other than revenge, right? You're asking if we have it in us. isn't that the question?" I looked away, escaping his terrifying yet revealing gaze. He sighed, catching my attention back, and my eyes dropped to his trembling hands. I understood his turmoil instantly. He continued quietly, "Our old motivations were vengeance and anger. A life we both knew would end horribly. A life built around the idea of death.

But in this one, it's different. Here, it's about starting over. About finding friendship, companionship, and protecting those bonds. Making sure the people close to us live fulfilling and happy lives. And by doing that, we get to share in that happiness, knowing that the tragedy of our past won't happen again. You're searching for a reason to live. One that's truly your own." My eyes widened as clarity finally broke through the storm clouding my thoughts.

I murmured softly, realization dawning upon me, "Strength, true friendship, and eventually… love." He smiled back warmly, pleased by my newfound understanding. His voice grew faint, almost gentle.

"Find what we never achieved before, things we couldn't experience because revenge consumed us. Actually live in this world, and aim to do so better than we did in the last one. Let that be your foundation." I smiled back as his form began to fade, mirroring the ghostly reflection I had seen on that final day.

"I'm happy," he whispered, his voice fading.

"Happy that we got another chance at life. Our old one was miserable, but you're doing great here. You're smiling more, spending time with real friends, eating properly, training hard, and doing things I used to think were pure magic. I didn't deserve this life, but I died. Now it's yours. Live it for our new self. And try to make it a better one than mine." I nodded slowly, tears streaming down my face. He smiled one last time before suddenly disappearing in a puff of smoke.

A distorted, ethereal voice echoed faintly as if passing through a watery veil.

"Never give up on your dream life. Good luck." I collapsed onto the floor, my body shaking as I whispered through the tears, "I won't. I swear I won't."