Even, with a trembling hand, touched his tongue to the white flesh of the pink fruit. The moment it made contact, a thousand-volt electric shock surged through his nerves. A strange, intense flavor crashed into his brain—it wasn't sweet, nor was it bitter; it was a primal, forbidden taste.
But at that exact second, his heart skipped a beat and then thrashed violently against his ribs. He realized, in his deathly hunger, he had made a fatal, suicidal mistake! The system had instructed him to wash his tongue with water immediately upon contact. But blinded by the searing fire of starvation, he had acted like a complete fool, making no prior arrangements for water. In this desolate wilderness, the thought of where to find a single drop of water had vanished from his famished brain.
Instantly, the system window turned a blood-red hue. Shrill mechanical pips echoed as alerts began to flood his vision.
[System Alert: Scanning Complete!]
[Fruit Name: Purple Dead Apple]
[Description: One of the most lethal poisonous fruits in this world. Its toxin directly attacks blood cells, causing them to swell from within. It is typically used by enemies to extract information through unspeakable agony. The intensity of the toxin causes every vein in the body to verge on explosion.]
[Warning: Poison has entered your system. However, since the quantity is minimal, you will not die immediately... perhaps!!]
'Perhaps!?' A scream tried to tear its way out of Even's throat, but his voice was choked off by a sudden, stabbing pain.
That word—'perhaps'—shook Even to his core. A horrific chemical reaction had already begun inside him. First, it felt as though his stomach was being filled with molten lead. Then, a wave of fire shot up his spine and into his brain. Even's body temperature began to rise unnaturally; it felt as if sparks of fire were leaking from every pore.
"Ugh... ah..." He clutched his throat with both hands.
His body was already profoundly weak from the interdimensional transition. Hours of starvation and the long struggle against danger had left him frail. And now, this toxic bite! Even's stomach lurched. He collapsed onto the ground, retching a bluish fluid. His breathing became fast and heavy, each gasp feeling like shards of broken glass grinding inside his lungs.
Between the system's coldness and his own stupidity, he was now literally on the brink of death. His pupils rolled upward. The veins along his spine turned blue and bulged, looking as if they might burst through his skin at any moment.
Even felt the world around him gradually fading into darkness. The strange pink fruit lay on the ground, seemingly mocking him with a derisive grin. The blue system window grew blurry. In his ears, a final, faint system notification echoed:
[Warning: Vitality (HP) decreasing rapidly... 2%... 1%...]
Even's lifeless body slumped onto the earth. The fruit rolled away from his hand. In the silent wasteland, Even's pulse-less body lay still.
His consciousness vanished into a deep, dark void.
***
A magnificent room in a royal mansion. Expensive carvings adorned the walls, and a soft Persian carpet covered the floor. But that carpet was now littered with expensive toys—from remote-controlled cars to various types of robots. The entire room was in disarray due to the antics of a five-year-old child.
"Even dear, don't leave your things scattered like this! You'll slip and get hurt!"
An elderly caretaker ran after the child, clutching a small towel. The boy was energetic, mischief sparkling in his eyes. Even—yes, this was the child Even.
Though he currently lay blue and dying from poison in reality, in this memory, he was a healthy, vibrant, and incredibly pampered child. His build was normal for his age, but his playfulness was extraordinary.
Every time the caretaker tried to catch him, he would giggle and dodge out of reach. Eventually, after thoroughly exhausting the old man, he bolted out of the bedroom. The caretaker followed, panting heavily.
Even ran until he reached a massive dining hall. Under the glow of a crystal chandelier, his father, Leon Anderson, and his mother sat at the table. Opposite them sat Even's uncle, looking grave. Leon and his wife were desperately trying to convince the uncle about a business deal.
Leon Anderson was at the peak of his power. Placing a file on the table, he said firmly, "Look, I'm telling you, we cannot let this deal slip away. This is a billion-billion-dollar opportunity! If we back down, our rivals will snatch it, and they'll be beyond our reach."
Even's mother agreed, "Yes, there's a bit of risk, but think of the rewards if we succeed!"
But the uncle remained as steady as a rock. He shook his head and said, "No, Leon, I can't do it. The city's biggest power players are involved in this. I won't risk our family by jumping into the middle of such a massive power struggle."
Little Even stood behind the door, listening. He didn't understand 'business' or 'billion dollars,' but he could tell his favorite uncle was refusing something his parents wanted badly.
Even toddled up to the table. He grabbed his uncle's hand with his tiny ones. Looking up with big, wide eyes, he said in a sweet voice, "Uncle, why aren't you listening to Papa and Mama? Please say yes, good Uncle!"
In the face of such innocent pleading, the uncle's gravity crumbled like a house of cards. He adored Even. With a long sigh and a soft smile, he placed a hand on Even's head. He looked at Leon and said, "Fine, Leon. I give in to this boy's sweet words. I agree."
A look of relief washed over Leon and his wife. Just then, another child appeared at the dining hall door—Vasco, Even's cousin.
"Even! Come on, they put a new slider in the garden. Want to play?" Vasco shouted from the doorway.
Even turned around, beaming with joy. Hearing his little brother's call, he didn't hesitate for a second and ran after him.
...
A few days later. Leon Anderson, Even's mother, and his uncle were preparing to leave to finalize that billion-dollar deal. Even, his aunt, and little Vasco stood at the front door, waving goodbye. Leon had patted Even's head and promised, "When I get back, I'll bring the best gift for you, champion!"
But minutes after they left, the aunt's demeanor shifted. She went into a corner and made a phone call. Even was playing nearby, and his aunt's cold voice reached his ears:
"They've left. Flight number—DA-009. The rest is your responsibility."
Even heard the words, but they meant nothing to a five-year-old. It just sounded like a normal call to him.
A few hours later, a breaking news report crashed onto the huge television screen in the living room. The news anchor spoke in an agitated voice:
"A horrific plane crash! The plane was hijacked mid-air. Surprisingly, the hijackers made no demands; instead, they flew the plane directly into a mountainside. There are no survivors!"
The scroll at the bottom of the screen began to roll—among the dead were the world's top wealthy business couple and the CEO of the billion-dollar company. Even's father, mother, and uncle—all three were gone.
Even looked at his aunt. There were no tears in her eyes, no shadow of grief on her face. Instead, she wore an expression of strange indifference. Even himself didn't fully grasp what had happened until, a few days later, their cold, mangled bodies were brought before him in coffins. Seeing his parents' ice-cold faces, Even's internal world shattered.
In fear and resentment, Even ran out of that massive mansion like a madman. His aunt made no effort to stop him; it was as if she wanted him gone. The old caretaker tried to chase him, but he was no match for the speed of a grieving, panicked child.
Even ran until he found shelter in a dark city alley. There sat an old man in tattered clothes—looking exactly like a fortune teller. His eyes were unnaturally bright. He showed Even no pity; instead, he said calmly, "Feeling quite alone, aren't you? Let me see your hand, boy."
Even mechanically extended his small hand. The man scrutinized the lines of his palm for a long time. Then he whispered, "Your luck... it shines like a diamond! You are far too lucky!"
'Lucky!' Even felt as though he was being mocked.
How could someone whose parents died hours ago be lucky?
The man, without letting go of his hand, spoke the next words, which sent a cold shiver down Even's spine:
"You are lucky, yes, but because of it, you are profoundly unfortunate. Because of this luck, you will fall into death traps repeatedly, and miraculously, because of this luck, you will survive. Your luck is your best friend, and yet, it is your worst enemy. Always try to seek the help of luck, but often, you must hide even from your own fortune."
…
The man's words sounded insane, but that gaze remained etched in Even's subconscious.
When Even returned to reality from the nightmare of his past, his eyes were crinkled in pain. He discovered his body was as stiff as wood—the effects of the poison had not fully subsided. Straining his ears, he heard the sound of horse hooves—clop-clop, clop-clop...
He was lying in a moving horse carriage. His body vibrated against the wooden planks. As his blurry vision cleared, he saw someone right in front of his face. The man had a protruding belly, a round face, and large eyes. He was wearing clothes specific to this world.
Seeing Even open his eyes, the man threw out the first question: "Hey, kid, are you alright? Or were you trying to commit suicide by eating that poisonous fruit!?"