The first time in this world I was killed was when I was three years old. The callused foot of my father hurtling straight at my face—knocking me unconscious—was, in reality, such a mediocre childhood memory. As were the next tens of thousands of deaths, none of which came with pleasant sensations.
And then, in my consciousness, memories from my previous world began to awaken, where I had become champion of the Arena hundreds of times. That’s when everything changed, turning my life upside down.