Chapter 2

Hunger was the first thing he felt.

Not the mild discomfort he felt from his old life, but something sharper, louder—like his body was screaming before his mind fully woke up. His stomach cramped painfully, small and weak, demanding attention immediately.

Mimi gasped—and air rushed in easily.

He froze.

'Air?'

His eyes flew open.

The ceiling above him was cracked and stained, unfamiliar in every way. The light was dim, slipping through broken boards. Dust floated lazily in the air. He tried to move—and immediately felt wrong.

Too small.

Too light.

His hands came into view, thin and trembling. Child’s hands.

“No,” he whispered.

The voice that came out was soft. Young.

His heart pounded violently as memories slammed into place—not his own, but borrowed. A name surfaced like it had always been there.

Roy.

“I’m… Roy?” he muttered.

He sat up too fast and nearly blacked out. Hunger clawed again, vicious and demanding. His body swayed left and right.

Five years old, he realized suddenly.

Panic threatened to rise, but Mimi—no, Roy—forced it down. Panicking wastes energy. He didn’t have any energy to spare.

Then, the memories came properly.

A novel.

One he’d read once, casually, killing time. He remembered it now with terrifying clarity. A story about wealth, power, and fate. About a trillionaire CEO. About a fake child and a real one. About a forgotten Omega boy and his runaway mother who starved quietly in the background.

This body.

This life.

In the original plot, Roy, this body died young. Slowly. Painfully. Hunger and illness. His mother followed not long after.

Roy pressed his small hands into the thin blanket, breathing hard.

“So that’s it?” he whispered. “I get a second life just to die again?”

The room felt colder, very cold.

He remembered the male lead. The Alpha heir.The fake son. The perfect family. The happy ending that had never included Roy.

A weak laugh escaped him.

“No,” he said quietly.

His stomach growled viciously as if agreeing with what he said.

“If fate thinks I’ll just lie down and starve again,” Roy murmured, eyes sharp despite his weak body, “then fate is about to be very disappointed.”

He didn’t need to rewrite the whole story. He didn’t need revenge. He didn’t even need happiness.