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Everyone is bound to have imagined going back to the past at least once.

Those who wish to avoid misfortune by returning to the past, those who are happy now but are curious about the paths they haven’t walked in life, and so on…

I, too, have naturally had such imaginings.

In fact, there were times when I buried myself in such imaginings all day long.

After all, my life, whether viewed from afar or up close, was a cruel tragedy.

And so, for a very long time, I was trapped in the past.

Days swept away by regret and obsession, thinking, ‘If only I had done that then,’ or ‘If only I hadn’t done that then…’

However, because human power can never turn back time, it was impossible to keep myself imprisoned in delusion forever.

So, burying the past behind me, I lived for the present and the future.

On some days, I stained my hands with blood, on others, I pursued money, and sometimes, holding a wine glass and a sword, I plunged into the dog-eat-dog struggle of the world.

At the end of that, whether I had settled my tragic past or was swimming in a new tragedy no longer mattered.

For me, worn out by the world, life was simply divided into just two paths: life and death.

I lived to live, and living leads to death.

With that mindset, I seemed to live by simply going with the flow.

Neither happiness nor misfortune mattered to me around that time, which is why I no longer thought about the past.

However, the affairs of the world are truly mysterious, and sometimes things that cannot possibly be explained by logic occur.

On the day the world was destroyed, I returned from that end.

To the very day my life was ruined.