Chapter 1: Congratulations, You Got the Trash Role
When Link opened his eyes, the ceiling above him was unfamiliar—cracked plaster, peeling paint, and the faint smell of mildew.
He blinked slowly.
He remembered dying.
The headlights. The sound of screeching tires. His own scream swallowed by music in his headphones.
Then... darkness.
And now, this.
Memories poured in like a dam had broken. But they weren't his.
This wasn't his name. Not originally. Not his body, either. But the mind inside? That was him—whoever he used to be.
Now he was Link.
A failure.
Link—born in the mountains, raised in poverty, orphaned young. Fed by the village, carried by hope, supported by people who had next to nothing. He had made it to Donghua University, one of the top academies of the Federation.
It should've been a success story.
Instead, it was a tragedy.
"Unbelievable…" he muttered, pressing his palm to his forehead as the inherited memories made his stomach churn.
The original Link… he'd been given a once-in-a-lifetime chance: the academy's Potential Awakening Resources—something that could shape your talent, boost your attributes, and maybe, just maybe, unlock a legendary-class ability.
But he gave it away.
To a girl.
Lin Qingyu.
He remembered her smile. Her soft voice. The way she brushed imaginary dust off Link's shoulder. The way she acted like he mattered.
Just enough warmth to make a lonely boy think it was love.
And Link—the original one—bought it. Gave her everything. The entire resource pack. No hesitation.
And for what?
She awakened a silver-tier talent.
He got black iron.
The lowest of the low. No abilities. No bonuses. Just a name on a screen, like a cruel joke.
And now he—the soul from another world—was stuck in this body. This screwed over, talentless version of a would-be protagonist.
He laughed bitterly and sat up on the edge of the bed.
"So I get reborn into a fantasy world... and I'm already trash?"
He glanced at the talent panel that floated before his eyes. The "Clone" ability stared back at him like a blank slate.
"But the clone has no combat power," he murmured, reading the fine print. "It just… exists."
He rubbed his temples. "Great. I get a passive doppelgänger with no real use. Meanwhile, other people are awakening dragon souls, elemental manipulation, dimensional blades..."
He wasn't even a bronze card in this game of life. Just white-tier filler.
"I came all this way just to become the background character in someone else's story."
Maybe he should go apply for a factory job. Screw parts together. Or work double shifts delivering food for Kangaroo Express and try to win the daily champion badge.
What a downgrade.
But what hit the hardest... was the village.
They raised him. Believed in him. Saved coin for years to help fund his trip to university.
And now, what could he give them?
A trash-tier failure who squandered his only chance because of a pretty smile.
He clenched his fists.
"No," he muttered. "I may have inherited a mess, but I'm not him."
He stood, legs slightly shaky, but a fire building in his chest.
"This world thinks I'm trash. Let them. Let them all look down on me."
He looked at the clone talent again. Useless on the surface—but maybe, just maybe, there was a twist. A bug in the system. A secret it hadn't told him.
He'd find it.
Because this wasn't a game.
It was his second chance.