Underneath The Storyline

It hadn't even been a full day since his arrival in this world, yet so much had already happened. Asahin still had many questions about how things had come to be, why so much differed from the novel, and what exactly had led him here. But amidst the uncertainty, a few things were crystal clear.

His life as David had ended.

Most likely, he'd suffered a heart attack in his sleep—just like his father had at thirty-four. The doctors had warned him often enough. His lifestyle had been a ticking time bomb, and deep down, he'd always known it. Three jobs, barely four hours of sleep a night, and a diet of cheap, greasy junk food. It was a wonder he'd lasted as long as he did.

Still, despite his grueling lifestyle, his body as David had been strong, tall, and sturdy. At 1.90 meters, he had been built like a wall—intimidating, imposing. He had to be. How else could he have protected his mother and sisters?

A sharp pang of grief struck him. His mother. His sisters.

Who would be there for them now?

He could only hope the life insurance policy he'd secured for them would be enough. At least financially, they wouldn't struggle for a long time. But money couldn't replace him. It wouldn't be there to protect them from the cruel, indifferent world.

David had become the head of his family at twelve years old. His mother had been pregnant and grieving, his little sister barely two. He had no time for childhood, no space for dreams. There had only been one priority: survive, provide, protect.

And now, he was gone.

The thought of his mother receiving the news twisted in his chest. His sisters, left without their brother, their shield. He dreaded imagining their pain.

Would they find his body? He hoped not. Hopefully, it would be his roommate. It would be easier that way. Less painful.

But there was nothing he could do. That life had ended at thirty-one. All he could do was hope that his sisters and mother got through everything and moved on in time.

He would try to do the same here, where he had begun again. At twenty.

A second chance? Maybe. But a rather disappointing one.

This body—Asahin's body—was weak, frail, and constantly teetering on the edge of collapse. His health was a mess, his father treated him with cold indifference, his stepbrother was a wicked pretender, his stepmother absolutely vile, and he had virtually no financial security.

What kind of second chance was this?

And why had he transmigrated into his sister's novel? And of all characters, why Asahin—the most pitiful and doomed of them all?

Maybe this was some kind of punishment.

David had never asked for much out of life. He never dreamed big for himself. His only wish had been to see his sisters build happy, stable lives, and for his mother to find someone who would love and cherish her. That was all.

As for himself? He hadn't thought about it much.

Sure, he liked the idea of love. Maybe, when his sisters were settled, he could have found a small apartment, met a nice guy to date, maybe even adopted a dog or two. But love had never really been a priority.

And now, he was here. In a different world, in a different body. But this world was real. He was real.

So maybe, just maybe, this life could be real too. Maybe he could carve out something for himself.

Far away from the main characters and the suffocating plot, he could rewrite his future. Find peace. Find happiness. A quiet, simple life sounded ideal. Perhaps a beta partner, since betas didn't seem to be as affected by pheromones. A stable life. A place of his own.

Yes. That would be nice.

He smiled at the thought as he rose from the bed.

A hot shower did wonders to ease the tension in his shoulders, though it did little for his body's lingering weakness. He dressed simply—just a T-shirt and jeans—before heading out.

Kaylan had promised to help him leave the Valmoor estate, but that didn't mean he would be supporting him financially. Asahin wasn't naïve. He needed to secure his own livelihood.

From the original Asahin's memories, he knew he had some money in his name. But it wasn't much. Based on the world's currency, it would last him about a year if he was careful. That wasn't nearly enough.

So, he needed to observe. Learn.

He needed to understand how people in this world made their money. What businesses thrived. What people spent on.

The internet could help, sure, but nothing beat firsthand experience.

His body was frail, so instead of walking, he called a taxi to take him to the heart of Isennaya, the capital of Varrunna.

Breakfast. That would be his first stop.

According to his memories, the original Asahin never ate at home. His father never invited him to meals, except when it was necessary for appearances. It was just as well.

How could anyone stomach food in a house filled with so much resentment?

No one cared that he was leaving. His nanny, the only person who had cared for him growing up, was on vacation. His personal aide, Evan, was also away. Asahin had insisted they take a two-week break, despite their protests.

They didn't want to leave him alone in that house. They feared for him.

They had messaged him that morning, checking in. He assured them everything was fine. Told them to enjoy their vacation.

But something felt off.

Why had the original Asahin sent them both away at the same time?

The answer came to him with chilling certainty.

Because he had known.

The original Asahin knew he was going to die that day.

And he hadn't wanted the only two people who cared for him to find his body.

A deep, hollow sadness settled in his chest.

Pitiful.

He had died alone, too.