Darkness.
Heavy. Endless. Silent.
Jalen "The Phantom" Creed had known pain, blood, and glory. He had touched greatness, fought a living legend, and died with a smile.
But now… there was only void.
Until light.
Not a blinding light. Not warm. Just… presence.
He stood or floated hard to tell in this place. The blackness around him began to ripple like water, and then a voice spoke. Calm. Infinite.
"So, this is what you chased. A perfect death."
Jalen turned toward the sound. No form. No face. Just the weight of something… divine.
"Am I dead?" he asked, voice echoing in the nothing.
"Yes. But also… no. You see, Jalen Creed, I gave you a gift. The ability to learn. To adapt. To become anything. And you used it… in a cage."
Jalen clenched his fists. "I was a fighter."
"You were more than that. You were potential unfulfilled."
He said nothing.
"But I'm merciful. I do not waste what I create. So I offer you this rebirth. Not in your world, but in the last one your spirit touched."
The void pulsed.
Panels of a webtoon flashed around him. Fists. Faces. Streets. Schools.
Lookism.
Jalen blinked. "You're sending me into a manhwa?"
"Correct. You read it before your final fight. Your soul remembers it. And now, you will live there. In that world, your gift will be tested like never before."
Jalen smirked. "So, I go in as a fighter?"
"Not exactly. You will be reborn into the body of someone physically weak. Fragile. The kind of person you'd never be in your past life. But you'll be blessed with two things: a beautiful appearance… and immense wealth. Your parents will be abroad hands-off, unaware. The rest is up to you."
Jalen laughed. "A pretty boy with money and a glass jaw. That's cruel."
"It's balance. You were untouchable before. Now, you'll earn power differently. From the ground up."
A pause.
"You wanted the perfect fight. In that world, you'll find fighters raw, wild, monstrous. Some with skills. Some with power. Some with pure rage. Your gift will let you evolve, but your new body will test your will."
Jalen nodded slowly, a grin creeping onto his face. "Sounds fun."
The light flared.
"Then rise, Phantom. Your second life begins now."
And then pain.
Bones forming. Blood flowing. Breath returning.
He gasped and opened his eyes.
A luxurious bedroom.
A city skyline outside a massive window.
A phone buzzing with unread messages. A mirror nearby reflecting a stunning face sharp jawline, piercing eyes, smooth skin.
He sat up, blinking, heart pounding.
Weak limbs.
Slim frame.
But in those eyes?
Fire.
Jalen Creed had returned.
Not a fighter anymore.
Not yet.
But the world of Lookism had no idea what was coming.