The First Enemy?

In a nearby county, on a beautiful night, something strange was happening to the third son of Tarkus Lantches.

"What the hell is happening to my body? Some bitch definitely poisoned me."

Dizziness hit him like a wave as he stumbled, trying to grab onto something—anything—to stay upright. But his hands failed him, knocking over everything nearby. He collapsed, overwhelmed by pain, dying with a contorted grimace of hatred, as if his very soul refused to give up.

Seconds passed.

The body stirred. His expression softened, his breathing resumed. He sat up abruptly, like someone waking from a nightmare.

"NOT THE FACE!"

He yelled, shielding his head with his arms, as if bracing for something that never came. After a few seconds of waiting, he uncovered his face and looked around, confused by the unfamiliar mess of the room.

Still frozen in shock, a transparent window appeared in front of him.

[Congratulations! You have been reincarnated into another world.]

Only that. Sitting on the floor, he looked visibly confused and questioned the floating window.

"What the hell does that even mean?"

The system blinked and showed something new.

[The system believes you have potential, but since your host died too quickly, leaving no room for personal development, I reincarnated you into the last webnovel you read.]

"Huh?"

Now completely confused and curious about his surroundings, he asked, "What webnovel is this?"

The system blinked again.

[It's called Worlds in Conflict.]

Like a bolt of lightning to the brain. He remembered it—a story where the protagonist was more of a villain than a hero.

"Shit, it had to be that one... I only read the first few chapters and already knew the MC was insane."

Realizing the situation was real, the boy stood up and headed to the mirror. His reflection showed a good-looking boy with blond hair and blue eyes, maybe sixteen years old, wearing pajamas with something embroidered on it: Darui Lantches.

The surname Lantches hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Fuck, it had to be that name... The protagonist's first target—Duchy of Lantches, ruled by Tarkus."

Panicking, still staring at the mirror, he clenched his fists. He had to stay strong. No matter what. I'll survive this. I won't waste this second chance.

----------------

Meanwhile, in a calm room bathed in deep purples, a white-skinned creature lay on a massive bed.

Why can't I sleep? Is it because of my race or something?

Sitting up, I looked at the wall. Maybe I should just write down what I know about the island… or read a book.

Getting up and heading toward the desk isolated in the corner, I suddenly had an idea. Why don't I check how my system actually works?

With that in mind, I stopped midway and sat on the couch instead.

Now seated, I summoned a transparent window in front of me.

Looking at it more closely, I noticed four icons on the side.

The first looked like this: . Opening it showed a space to type something, but how exactly to use it was still a mystery.

The second icon was a folded piece of paper with scribbles. That one listed pre-written scripts.

The third was a tiny island. Opening that one showed me a map of the island, with a list below that seemed to show all its inhabitants.

The fourth was a bag icon. Obvious enough. My inventory.

Looking inside the inventory...

Dear god, there's so much crap in here, I can't even tell what's what.

Above was a small search bar.

Just thinking about it selected the search bar and a keyboard appeared out of nowhere.

What the hell is this? It wants me to type in the air? Embarrassing.

Making a mental note to find a way to hide this thing if I ever use it in front of someone else, I started typing.

'Scythe'

A bunch of results popped up, but one in particular stood out.

There it is. My old weapon. Though I used it more for walking than fighting...

Its name flashed in my mind. 'Scythe of Reality'. What appeared was a scythe with a black handle, and at the top, the fangs of the Reality Devourer. The base of the blade was white, with two sharp glowing pink fangs forming its tip.

Before it could hit the ground, I caught it. A wave of energy surged through me before stabilizing.

This is incredible. If this thing still works the way it's supposed to, it might be the most broken item that exists.

After admiring it for a moment, I tossed it back into the inventory.

Now, let's check that island icon.

Opening it revealed a ton of stuff—residents, status reports, island controls.

I frowned. "Island controls?"

Curiously clicking on it, I was met with a new window:

Floating island: False

Island direction: Idle

Barrier: False

Emergency state: False

Island gates: 0

Desert containment field: True

Artificial sun: True

[...]

Yeah. Got it. Basically, it's the command center.

I made the island float—causing a small tremor. Then activated the barrier and turned off the artificial sun. No need for it anymore.

Once that was handled, I opened the 'status' tab.

Another flood of data appeared:

Overall island status: GOOD

Energy state: 99.9%

Area 1 status: GOOD

Area 2 status: GOOD

Area 3 status: GOOD

Area 4 status: GOOD

Island treasury: 0 coins of any type

Energy generation status: GOOD

[...]

What the hell? I never made this screen. And I'm broke? Zero coins... seriously?

I let out a heavy sigh. That confirmed it. We're broke.

Tilting my head back, I sank deeper into the couch. If we've got no money, how is anything running? I saw the stalls were automated—so where's the food coming from?

Thinking about it gave me a headache, so I left that for future me to solve.

I'm satisfied with this little skill test, honestly. What's bothering me is... my emotions.

I raised my hands just enough to see them. Can I still feel like I used to? To some extent, sure. But those feelings I had when I saw other humans… they didn't feel like mine.

Clenching, then slowly releasing my fists, I stared at the ceiling.

Guess I'll just read something to pass the time.

Getting up, I walked to the shelf and grabbed a book titled "Social Skills for the Awkward".

The hell is this? Did I really save this?

Curious, I opened it and skimmed through. It seemed kinda interesting. I sat down and started reading, letting the night pass by.

----------

Morning came with the sound of metal boots pounding down the hallway. A knight burst through the double doors, startling everyone eating at the table.

Tarkus, black-haired with sharp blue eyes, glared at him.

"What do you think you're doing, interrupting my breakfast?"

The knight dropped to one knee. "Forgive me, my lord. But this is urgent. Refugees from a nearby village claim they saw a massive island appear out of nowhere… with multiple dragons flying out of it."

Everyone froze. Only one person reacted.

Tarkus turned his eyes to his son. "Darui, is something wrong?"

Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he replied, "N-no, just... that sounds kinda absurd."

Tarkus stared at him silently, then turned back to the knight.

"Prepare a team. I'll lead it. If this turns out to be a lie, we'll kill every last one of those liars."

The knight nodded and exited the room.

The silence that followed was broken by Darui.

"Are you sure about this, father?"

Tarkus answered coldly. "If I weren't, I wouldn't have opened my mouth."

He stood up and walked away.

As he left, Darui's two brothers started laughing, while a beautiful blonde woman simply kept eating.

Ignoring them, Darui chased after his father. "Wait, father."

Tarkus, a bit surprised at the persistence, stopped. "Speak."

Darui hesitated, thoughts racing. If he captures that crazy woman, we're screwed.

Sweating, he asked, "Can I go with you?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "You? Are you serious?"

After a few seconds, Tarkus smirked. "Fine. Maybe it's time you left the nest. Be ready. We leave soon."

And with that, he walked off.

Darui felt a small relief. That's it. Maybe I can stop everything from going to hell.

The moment was ruined as two boys appeared—Mark and Lukas.

Lukas, the shorter one, mocked, "Oh look, the failure finally wants to do something."

Mark, arms crossed, added, "Failure? More like walking trash."

Darui ignored them and walked toward his room, hearing them click their tongues behind him.

I need to pack. I need to figure out what the hell I'm going to do to stop this mess, Darui thought, clenching his fists.