...

  Jin Winters stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

  Pale blue eyes stared back—sharp, alert, unclouded by chemo fog. Light blue hair caught the morning sunlight streaming through the window, making him look like some kind of protagonist from an anime.

  Real.

  His fingers traced the unfamiliar jawline. The skin felt warm, solid, alive in ways his dying body hadn't for months.

  "Holy shit." The words came out as a breath. "I actually look... normal. Better than normal."

  He turned his head left, then right, studying the sharp angles of this new face. Having a foreign face look back at him should've freaked him out more, but after years of watching cancer hollow out his cheeks and sink his eyes, this was—

  His throat tightened.

  "At least I won't be dying as some skeleton wrapped in a hospital gown."

  The thought landed harder than he expected.

  Dying.

  Jin's chest went tight. Not with panic—with recognition.

  He'd spent two years learning what dying felt like. Watching his body betray him one system at a time while doctors pretended they had answers, and Ren tried not to cry in the corner.

  This body, though? This body felt good. Strong. Healthy. Like he could actually do something instead of just lying there taking it.

  "This is really happening, isn't it?" Jin whispered to his reflection. Then louder: "I'm actually here. I'm actually in the fucking world of Mantle of Gods."

  The reality of it hit him like a freight train.

  He was inside his favorite novel.

  Reborn as an extra, probably. In all ten books of the series, he couldn't remember a single mention of anyone named Jin Winters. Not even a footnote about someone with his distinctive coloring.

  "Jin Winters... Jin Winters..." He searched through his memories, cross-referencing every character he could recall. "Nope. Nothing. Not a single mention."

  So, no one with direct impact on the story. Someone destined to live and die in mediocrity.

  But he wasn't that person anymore.

  Cancer had taught him survival. Taught him grit. How to keep breathing when your body screams at you to give up.

  Something I'll use here.

  A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  "Someone this good-looking can't stay an extra for long," he said to his reflection. "I mean, look at this face. The author would've definitely described someone who looks like this."

  His smile faded as darker memories surfaced. The novel's plot. The so-called heroes who were supposed to save everything.

  "Those fucking idiots." His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Kaelen and his 'righteous fury.' Seraphina and her 'divine justice.' Bastards had everything handed to them on a silver platter and still managed to screw it up."

  Heat rose in his chest.

  In his previous life, he'd thrown the final book across his hospital room in rage. Watched those characters fail despite having every advantage imaginable—the World's Will giving them hints, the best mentors, the strongest artifacts, the most loyal companions.

  "And what did they do? Let their egos get in the way and doom everyone."

  But that had been fiction then.

  Now, it was his reality.

  If nothing changes, in ten years the same ending I read will happen. Except this time, I'll be the one on the receiving end.

  The weight of that realization should have crushed him. Instead, something else stirred in his chest—determination, fierce and bright.

  "No. Hell no." His voice gained conviction. "I want to enjoy this life. I want to see all the beautiful places the author described, taste all the foods, witness all the wonders."

  His grin widened as he thought about some of the female characters from the novels.

  His reflection grinned back at him, no longer the ghost of a dying cancer patient but the face of someone with limitless potential.

  "I've been given a second chance, and I'm not wasting it." He raised an imaginary glass to the mirror. "Thank you, Morpheus wannabe, for the red pill. Even if you were creepy as hell."

  Time to see what I'm working with.

  As his thoughts aligned with his newfound resolve, the panic of waking up in a new body began to ebb. His shoulders relaxed. His breathing steadied.

  This was his opportunity to change everything.

  Jin took a deep breath.

  "I call upon my Mantle."

  A blue, transparent screen shimmered into existence before him.

  o__________________________________________o

  NAME: Jin Winters

  AGE: 17

  TITLE: The Soul Beyond the Stars of Fate

  THE MANTLE OF HARVEST

  ? BOON

  "What mortal hands would barely reap, the Bearer's touch shall always yield more—what earth gives forth through toil and seed, the Bearer's hand makes plenty's deed."

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  ? AFFINITY

  ???? ?None?

  ? [ORDER 0] ENTITY

  ? MARKED SKILLS

  ???? ?none?

  ? ACQUIRED SKILLS

  ???? [Adept] Reading (53)

  ???? [Adept] Learning and remembering (51)

  ???? [Novice] Cleaning (23)

  ???? [Novice] Physical fitness (12)

  ???? [Novice] Sword Mastery (19)

  ???? [Novice] Unarmed Combat Mastery (12)

  ???? [Novice] Combat Mastery (15)

  ???? [Novice] Light firearm Mastery (21)

  o__________________________________________o

  Jin's eyes went wide.

  "Holy fucking shit."

  His heart hammered against his ribs. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he'd actually see this—standing right in front of his eyes, exactly like the novels described but somehow more real.

  He paused, studying the title more carefully.

  "The Soul Beyond the Stars of Fate... now that's interesting." His voice took on a doubtful tone. "Is this because of my reincarnation? Or did the original Jin always have this?"

  I've never heard of titles like these in the novels. Hell, gaining titles is supposedly more difficult than progressing through Orders or ranks…

  Yeah, I remember this story had a very convoluted power system, terrible terminology, and even worse naming sense.

  Jin frowned, then shook his head. Focus.

  His eyes tracked to the Boon description.

  "Mantle of Harvest... no extra modifier, so it's not tied with any specific entity or legend." He nodded slowly. "Tied to the concept of harvest in general. I can definitely work with that."

  More importantly, I remember something about this type of Boon from volume seven...

  Jin's smirk returned as knowledge surfaced—knowledge that wouldn't be discovered for years in the original timeline.

  "Although my current Boon is related to increasing the yield of harvested crops, the beautiful thing about conceptual Boons is that they can be modified." His grin widened. "If it were tied to any entity, doing so would have been a pain in the ass."

  The author spent an entire chapter explaining how Ameye Jocelin figured out the hidden mechanics. Though that moment comes pretty late in the story... so right now I'm the only one with this knowledge.

  "With my knowledge and the right preparation, I can change part of this Boon. Turn 'crops' into something much more useful. Monster cores, maybe? Or essence itself?"

  The possibilities felt endless.

  His acquired skills weren't bad either. The original Jin had clearly spent time training, judging by those combat abilities.

  "Not bad, original Jin." He nodded approvingly at the system display. "Those reading and learning stats are gonna be invaluable for absorbing all the technical manuals I know the locations of. And the combat training means you weren't completely hopeless."

  Though ORDER 0 means I'm still basically a mortal ranker. Need to hit ORDER I before I can really call myself a Mantle Bearer.

  Jin's gaze drifted from the system window, and as his eyes moved across the ethereal display, something behind it caught his attention.

  Something that made his blood turn to ice.

  A poster on the wall.

  "What the hell is—"

  His hands trembled as he swiped the system window away and stumbled closer to read the colorful travel advertisement mounted on the bedroom wall.

  "COME VISIT VIENNA! THE CITY OF YOUR DREAMS!"

  The word dropped into his consciousness like a stone into still water.

  "No."

  This can't be right. Please tell me this isn't what I think it is.

  Jin stumbled closer to the poster, his legs suddenly unsteady. His hands shook as he read the cheerful marketing copy describing Vienna's attractions—the famous hot springs, the mountain skiing, the cultural festivals that drew visitors from across the continent.

  "No... no, this can't be happening. Of all the cities, of all the fucking places in this entire world—"

  Vienna.

  Of all the fucking places in this world, I had to wake up in Vienna.

  His breath caught in his throat.

  "This has to be a different Vienna." The words came out desperate, pleading. "There's got to be more than one city with that name, right? Right?!"

  He spun toward the window, nearly tripping over the open suitcase. His fingers fumbled with the heavy curtains before yanking them aside with desperate strength.

  "Please be wrong, please be wrong, please be—"

  The view that greeted him matched the poster exactly.

  Snow-capped mountains dominated the distant horizon, their peaks gleaming white against the clear morning sky. Below them, a sprawling city stretched toward the sea in terraced layers, elegant spires and modern buildings creating a skyline that would have been breathtaking under different circumstances.

  It would have been breathtaking.

  If not for what Jin saw at the far edge of the city.

  Faint darkness gathered there like storm clouds, but wrong—too geometric, too purposeful. Veils of shadow that seemed to pulse with malevolent life, creeping closer to the inhabited areas with each passing moment.

  No. No, no, no, no, no!

  Jin's chest tightened.

  Not with panic.

  With recognition.

  "Ah." The word came out flat. Clinical. "So that's what dying looks like when it comes fast instead of slow."

  He'd spent two years watching death approach in hospital beds. Watching his body betray him one organ system at a time.

  This was just... quicker.

  Almost considerate, really.

  "This is Vienna. The actual fucking Vienna." His voice came out steadier than he expected. "The city of sea and snow. The tourist paradise that gets turned into a nightmare hellscape."

  Of all the cities in this world, I had to wake up in one of the four that get completely annihilated.

  The book Mantle of Gods had started on the darkest note imaginable. Four cities were destroyed simultaneously in a coordinated catastrophe that served as the opening act to ten volumes of escalating horror.

  Vienna, Prague, Naples, and Istana—wiped from the map in a matter of hours.

  "Chapter One, paragraph fucking one," Jin recited from memory. "'When even the sun was blocked by the eternal darkness that rose over the four cities, it would be the last dawn their citizens would ever see.'"

  Millions of souls snuffed out in a matter of hours. The worst part? Not a single person survived to tell the tale. The cities were simply... gone. Wiped from existence along with everyone who had called them home.

  And Vienna was one of those four cities.

  Jin stared at the dark veils creeping across Vienna's skyline.

  If my memories of Jin Winters are correct, if this is really the day the novel began, then I have hours. Maybe less before everything goes to hell.

  "The original Jin should have been with his uncle's family right now," he muttered. "Safe in some other city, enjoying a peaceful vacation. But no—he had to stay behind because he was embarrassed about his Mantle."

  That decision just became my death sentence.

  Jin pressed his face against the cold window glass, watching those dark veils creep closer to the city center. Each pulse of shadow brought them nearer to the apartment where he stood.

  "In the original novel, no one saw it coming until it was too late. No warnings, no evacuation orders, no chance to run." He glared at the growing darkness. "But look at that thing. That veil's been forming for at least an hour, maybe more. The authorities have to see it, right? Weather satellites, air traffic control, someone has to notice a giant fucking shadow creeping toward the city."

  But if no one's doing anything yet... that means the top brass either got bribed to look the other way or they're working with the perpetrators.

  "Which means this is exactly like the book. The government officials in charge of Vienna's safety were bought and paid for by the fucking cults."

  The calamity would strike without mercy. When it was over, Vienna would be nothing but a crater filled with monsters too terrible for human minds to comprehend.

  Jin's reflection stared back at him from the window glass—pale blue eyes wide, light blue hair disheveled. He looked exactly like someone about to die.

  Because he was.

  "But..." His voice came out as a whisper. "Do I just accept it? Do I roll over and die like everyone else?"

  He thought about Ren, probably sitting beside a hospital bed right now, wondering what happened to his dying brother. About all the books he'd never finish reading, all the places he'd never see, all the experiences he'd never have.

  "I already died once. I know what it feels like to feel your body give up, to feel everything slip away while you're helpless to stop it."

  His hands pressed against the window.

  "I won't go through that again. Not like this. Not when I have a chance to fight."

  The question was: would he accept this fate forced on him?

  His jaw clenched.

  "Fuck no."

  Jin turned from the window.

  His chest still felt tight, but not with panic. With something else. Something sharp and focused.

  Okay. The word settled into his mind with surprising calm. Okay. I know how to do this.

  Dying? No.

  Surviving.

  He'd spent two years facing death. Watching it approach day by day, treatment by treatment, watching his body fail him piece by piece while he fought to keep breathing.

  This was just... faster.

  "Alright." Jin's voice came out steadier now. "I have hours. Maybe less. Time to use that big brain of mine."

  ~~~

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