I Refused To Be Reincarnated

The man's gaze lingered on him as he pushed his office's door open, then gestured to an elegant chair fixed in front of a sturdy yet finely crafted wooden desk.

He observed the man sit, catching the revolver hidden under his coat. Trepidation gripped his heart. At the slightest slip of the tongue, he could lose his opportunity... or worse, die. His legs shook subtly, ruffling the fabric of his jeans before he sat to hide his panic from the man's prying eyes. He took a moment to calm down, exhaling to fix his emotions.

He couldn't afford to show weakness now. The stakes were too high, and failure was not an option. A second later, he forced himself to wear a mask of confidence and blunt charisma. His pupils shifted from constricted to sharp, his lips curled into a smirk, and his back straightened.

"I have ten thousand dollars to invest. I want lethal cold weapons. Blades, swords, Katanas, spears. I need weapons with moderate range and precision."

The man looked at him as if he were an idiot for a moment, then forced a smile.

"We have firearms, you know? I'm sure our collection will intrigue you."

"No, thank you. Please accept my order."

His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

The man drummed on the desk, his golden rings flashing under the gambling den's fluorescent lights filtering through the window. His unreadable expression sent shivers down the original's spine, threatening to crack his facade with each passing second. A cacophony of sounds echoed in his body, keeping pace with his quickening heartbeat.

Sweat matted his back, and thoughts of failure formed in his mind.

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle yet menacing gesture.

"You must understand, requests like yours are... uncommon."

His mind raced. 'Is he testing me?' Doubts crawled into his heart for a minute.

Despite their presence, he stuck to his earlier confident demeanor. Discover hidden tales at empire

"I understand," he replied, his voice unwavering. "But I assure you, I'm not arming a gang or a clueless child if that's what bothers you."

His words directly challenged the man's unspoken suspicion wafting through the air. He knew about these kinds of people. They would sell you anything without a flicker of moral hesitation. Even if he wanted to build a secret army, they wouldn't care... as long as they remained untraceable, that is.

The second their interests were threatened, their amiable smiles and cordial words would turn into snarling maws and curses, relentless until your dying breath.

As the faceoff lingered for a moment amidst the muffled sounds of slot machines, the man's amused laughter broke the silence.

"Hahaha. You have the composure to join us. Say, did you ever consider becoming a mafioso?"

Upon hearing his words and seeing him take a thick cigar out of his suit's pocket, the original drew a deep breath of relief. 'I did it.' He knew he did. The relaxed tension, composure, everything hinted at it. And after the pleasantries, the real negotiation would begin.

After a surprisingly pleasant hour of back and forth, they smiled at each other, satisfied by the deal. The man because he earned a fortune without investing resources. The original because he secured eighty weapons of average quality despite the exorbitant prices.

Despite his initial reluctance, he surrendered his address, reasoning that the man would find it anyway with his network. Thus, they arranged for the delivery to arrive at his doorstep tonight.

Upon returning home, his heart felt heavy, and his thoughts wandered to find other solutions. Yet, his hard-earned savings were gone like a puff of smoke, and his bank account was empty. Meaning he could do nothing more to prepare for the catastrophe.

'I'll have to eat canned food for a while if nothing happens,' he thought, a bitter smile stretching his lips. But in truth, he hoped that paranoia drove him. That the others were right and his actions proved foolish. Because if not, people would die by thousands, by millions. Perhaps even by billions. And the survivors would suffer, too.

From hunger, thirst, sickness, and other hazards. And... he didn't want to see fellow humans suffer.

Upon reaching these thoughts, his eyes lit up in realisation. He could still prepare! With the internet, he could grasp basic knowledge. The library was an option, too. With physical books, he would deepen his education even in case of a blackout.

His heart rate hastened as he grew restless. Like a gale, he raced to his city's libraries, borrowing advanced books on medicine, physics and craftsmanship. Then, he spent hours watching introductory videos on hunting, butchering, and wilderness survival.

Despite the dull process and his deep aversion to learning, he focused, absorbing the new knowledge like a sponge. Just like he had before graduating and swearing never to step foot in a school again. "At least I won't have to learn economy and geopolitics," he said, finding humor amidst despair.

Like a plate of quenched alloy, his focus remained unwavering for a few hours until the beautiful, pale moon replaced the sun. The stars shone brightly upon Earth, giving the night a peaceful appeal, contrasting with the storm brewing on the internet.

Meanwhile, in every corner of the globe, worried individuals gathered in groups, connected despite vast distances, all driven by a singular purpose: to investigate the looming threat of the menacing vortexes.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Those brave souls, animated by a desire to protect their homes and families, defied the governments' orders. They stormed the restricted fields, recording everything live to show the world the truth. Some died shot by soldiers, while a few managed to reach their goals.

Many channels ended up banned, but friends from other countries manifested. They spammed every platform with the feed, increasing the visibility despite the administrators' retaliation.

Like wildfire, their attempts spread on every social network, drawing attention from everywhere, including Adam and the original.

They gazed at a group of three men through the monitor.

Their obsidian skin glinted under the scorching sun as they approached the passage. He couldn't understand their words, but both could see the men's terror through their shaking legs and the unstable camera.

And the swarm of beasts guarding the vortex...

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