Genichi's figure appeared out of thin air within the deathly silent space.
Before his body had even fully recovered from the teleportation, his consciousness had already reacted.
The instant his feet touched the ground, his body distorted like a reflection shattered across the surface of water, then vanished completely.
At the same time, the shadow beneath his feet rapidly spread outward.
A pitch-black humanoid figure separated itself from the darkness and remained standing exactly where he had appeared, completely motionless like a statue.
Shadow Replacement.
Genichi's true body had already entered Shadow Space.
There was no up or down inside Shadow Space.
No left or right.
No concept of distance or elevation.
There was only endless darkness.
Genichi drifted through that darkness, unable to feel his physical body. Only his consciousness remained distinct.
Through the shadow decoy outside, however, he could still perceive the external world.
The gray-white sky.
The dark gray rocks.
And the blood-covered figure collapsed not far away.
Another version of himself.
Genichi didn't immediately make a move.
Instead, he observed him carefully.
The man was slumped against a dark rock, wearing badly damaged armor. A horrifying wound pierced straight through his chest, as though some sharp weapon had run him through.
His face was pale as paper.
His cracked lips were stained with blood.
His eyes were only half open, and his pupils had already begun to lose focus.
A dark red pool of blood spread beneath him, standing out starkly against the gray-black stone.
Genichi watched for a while longer.
Once he confirmed that the other man no longer possessed any ability to resist, he moved with a thought.
A black shadow extended from beneath the decoy.
It condensed into a pitch-black blade, leveled itself at the man's throat, and stabbed downward.
There was no struggle.
No scream.
Not even a groan.
The figure merely twitched once before falling completely still.
His eyes remained open, reflecting the gray-white sky above.
Unwillingness, anger, and confusion lingered within those fading pupils.
Then the corpse began to disappear.
Starting from the extremities, it gradually dissolved into countless tiny motes of light, scattering through the air like fireflies.
More and more appeared until the surrounding space was illuminated by their glow.
Then, as though drawn by some invisible force, the motes surged toward the shadow beneath Genichi's decoy.
They passed through the false body.
Through the barrier of the shadows.
Through the boundary separating Shadow Space from the outside world.
And finally poured into Genichi's true body.
Knowledge.
Memories.
Emotions.
Abilities.
Everything that belonged to this other version of himself was absorbed, devoured, and merged into Genichi's soul.
Genichi closed his eyes as an enormous flood of memories exploded inside his mind.
Then his expression changed.
Outside, the shadow decoy remained motionless upon the barren rock.
Inside Shadow Space, Genichi floated silently within the darkness, his brows tightly furrowed and disbelief filling his eyes.
His lips parted slightly.
He wanted to say something.
But for a moment, no words came out.
His fingers trembled faintly in the darkness.
Not because of fear.
Not because of pain.
But because the memories he had just received were so absurd that he hardly knew how to react.
Once again, he had absorbed the memories of another version of himself from a female-oriented novel world.
Unlike the previous Genichi, who had lived in a modern urban setting, this one came from an ancient historical romance world.
It was a completely fictional dynasty.
There was an emperor.
Generals.
An imperial harem.
Court politics.
War.
Famine.
Everything about it carried the familiar flavor of a stereotypical historical romance novel.
Genichi took a deep breath and began sorting through the memories flooding into his mind.
The ancient world's version of himself had possessed terrible luck from the very beginning.
After transmigrating, he had become a newborn baby who was abandoned almost immediately.
An elderly couple happened to find him and took him in.
They themselves were desperately poor.
There were days when their own cooking pot remained empty, yet they still saved what little food they had and raised him as their son.
In an era like that, the fact that an abandoned infant had survived at all was practically a miracle.
Genichi could clearly feel the gratitude his other self had held toward those adoptive parents.
It wasn't something spoken only with words.
It had been carved into his bones.
Unfortunately, the good days didn't last.
When he was thirteen, a terrible drought struck the land.
The crops failed completely.
There was nothing left to harvest.
Famine followed.
His adoptive parents joined the refugees heading south, hoping they might find somewhere with enough food to survive.
Everywhere along the road were corpses.
Everywhere were cries of suffering.
Everywhere was despair.
His adoptive mother was the first to fall.
She starved to death, reduced to little more than skin and bone.
His adoptive father continued on with him for another three days before finally collapsing as well.
Before dying, the old man forced the last piece of dried grain into Genichi's hand.
Even with his final breath, he kept repeating the same words.
"Stay alive."
That version of Genichi did not betray his adoptive father's final wish.
He survived.
He survived on that final piece of food.
On grass roots and tree bark gathered from the roadside.
On whatever he could strip from the bodies of those who had already died.
Eventually, he reached the end of the refugee route.
And then he collapsed.
He lay beside the road, covered in injuries and barely breathing, like an abandoned stray left there to die.
A passing army found him.
The general commanding them was a man in his thirties, with a stern face and sharp eyes.
He sat atop a tall warhorse, carrying himself with an imposing presence.
The general looked down at the dying boy beside the road.
After a moment of silence, he gave a simple order.
"Take him with us."
Genichi was brought into the military camp.
The dirt was washed from his body.
He received clean clothes.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he ate a warm meal.
From a starving refugee on the verge of death, he became a member of the general's personal guard.
He trained desperately.
He learned everything he could.
He endured every hardship placed before him.
He never wanted to starve again.
He never wanted to be abandoned again.
And most of all, he never wanted to stand helplessly by while someone important to him died right in front of his eyes.
The general treated him fairly well.
Perhaps he wasn't especially kind, but he never abused Genichi.
He never withheld his rations.
He never treated him as disposable cannon fodder.
During training, he occasionally gave Genichi personal guidance.
Whenever Genichi was seriously wounded, the general would even come to check on him himself.
That ancient version of Genichi was deeply grateful.
His loyalty gradually became absolute.
He believed he had finally found someone worthy of devoting his life to.
As the later memories surfaced, the Genichi inside Shadow Space gave a cold laugh.
Of course.
It was a female-oriented romance world.
Things could never be that simple.
The general had a "white moonlight," the woman he'd never been able to forget.
She had been his childhood sweetheart back in his hometown.
Later, her family fell into decline, and she was sent into the palace during the selection of imperial women.
Eventually, she became one of the emperor's consorts.
Even after she entered the imperial harem, the general never stopped thinking about her.
Then, one day, a letter arrived from her.
The contents were so suspicious that even an idiot should have been able to tell something was wrong.
It was exactly the sort of classic trap designed to make the male lead abandon all reason, rush straight into the Imperial Capital, and walk directly into an ambush.
The ancient Genichi had never read women's romance novels.
But he wasn't stupid.
He had spent years in the army.
He had seen enough schemes and plots to recognize danger when it was staring him in the face.
One glance at the letter was enough.
It was a trap.
If the general went, there was almost no chance he would come back alive.
Genichi knelt before him and desperately tried to persuade him.
"General, the Imperial Capital is far from here. There will almost certainly be an ambush along the road."
"If you ride there alone and something happens, no one will be able to reach you in time."
"Please reconsider."
The general looked down at him in silence for a long time.
Then he drew his sword.
And drove it straight through Genichi's chest.
Even as he died, Genichi couldn't believe it.
The man he had loyally served for years had stabbed him simply because he questioned a letter sent by a woman.
His eyes widened.
He stared at the general's cold face.
At the sword buried in his chest.
At the blood pouring from the wound.
He wanted to ask why.
But he could no longer speak.
His body collapsed weakly to the ground as his consciousness began to fade.
Just before everything went dark, he heard the general speak.
His voice was quiet, almost as though he were talking to himself.
"You don't understand."
"She would never hurt me."
After finishing the memories, Genichi fell completely silent.
For a long moment, he genuinely didn't know what to say.
(End of Chapter)
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