A Suicidal Regressor's Manual

The Last Page of the Notebook [Prologue]

To anyone who finds this shitty letter written in vain,

If you're from my family, the 'graceful' bastards of the renowned Goldwin clan, then please do me the favor and go fuck yourself.

Preferably take a sword and plunge it deep into your chest, let the blood stain the contents of this notebook, it will make me happy, maybe lessen my hatred, in my grave. 

Know that how much I dislike you cannot be described in words, therefore, I will not even waste my time to do so here.

However, if, by some twist of fate, you are not of my family, then heed what I am about to say —  the noble clans are not at all what they appear to be.

I don't know exactly how to write letters or melancholy messages and/or outbursts, but here I come. I'll vent my frustrations one last time before I die, as they're clearly orchestrating some bizarre plan to get rid of my unwanted presence once and for all.

Do they think I'm incapable of noticing their movements? I may be weak, but not intellectually foolish.

Back to the main subject, here we go: First of all, let me introduce myself.

My name is Kayden Goldwin, the second (former) legitimate heir of the Goldwin noble family house, and who, most likely, if you are an ordinary person in society, you have never been informed of its existence.

As someone without an innate ability and somehow unable to learn techniques from skill books, I was judged as a freaking disposable trash from an early age.

Every member of my family wondered how the hell the gods could curse them for making such a bizarre child be born into their clan instead of their enemies' clan. But that's not where it ended.

My life path, where the floor was built by spikes and swords on top of each other, lasted longer than expected.Although things just went downhill from there onwards.

After having all my efforts over the years thrown into the air as if they meant nothing, I finally faced the harsh reality — and on that fateful day, when I turned exactly 16, my title, my riches, my opportunities, everything...

Absolutely everything was taken from me, without much explanation.

Of course people soon found out and even my closest friends walked away from me as a consequence of it.

Abandoned, without privileges or money, what could a fragile and powerless 16-year-old boy do to survive in a society essentially corrupt from its roots?

Well, it was obvious - humiliating himself to get the most diverse jobs, and also getting slightly involved with the city's underworld. I wasted 12 years working in jobs that a person would never dream of having. 

And so, I became what I hated the most, a walking piece of shit that did nothing for the world to evolve.

Where am I going with this?

What do I want to gain by telling you these things?

Who f*cking knows and cares at all.

I myself wish I had discovered a purpose in my life that was worthy of giving me enough will to live. Now it's too late for me. 

Danger lurks on all sides, and it's not even the humans anymore the great beings that dominate the food chain. Furthermore, the war is coming to an end and I can sense that we are not going to win it, no matter what we do.

The red star in the sky — the one you idiots call 'Despair' — has never bothered to give me a chance, minimal or not.

The gods which us humans worship so much never bothered to give me a chance, minimal or not.

People, noble, common, or whatever they were in their quiet little lives, never bothered to give me a chance, minimal or not.

The sun rises once more on the horizon of the orange sky and I ask myself: what should I do from now on? What action should I take next? How am I going to keep walking, surviving? 

Faced with a naturally rotten society, I can no longer bear it. The weight of my sins, moreover the discrimination and mockery I suffered for over 25+ years, has become heavier than I can handle.

This time, I will gladly accept their preparations to make me fall at once, who knows I might even take one of them along the way? 

They underestimate me too much. Maybe I really can do it if I try to do so.

Well, fuck all of that. I don't give a damn anymore. 

But I do truly hope that with the other pages of this notebook, you who found these records, made by someone who tried and studied more than anyone in this world, can ascend to a new level never known by humanity.

And please, if ever you are capable of such a feat, bathed in glory and conquest, anoint your holy body with the blood of those who once dared to call themselves my kin.

I beg and crave for it. I need it from the bottom of my heart and impure soul.

Please, do me a last favor and cut the throats of everyone in this world who dared just watch my shameful life continue on. Make them suffer with your own hands, their screams will give me the deepest pleasure  one can fell — they will heal my wandering soul as nothing else can.

In another way, I hope this can help you.

Good luck, and don't live like me.

Sincerely,

Kayden Goldwin, The Goldwin Bastard.