Frank White

Frank Allure was a twenty-eight-year-old man who had lived a chaotic and aimless life. He had lost his family in a tragic car accident when he was only 18 years old and had been spiraling into self-destruction ever since. Drugs became his escape, a way to evade the pain and loneliness he felt.

On one fateful day, while looking for an unfortunate person to rob and buy drugs from, he saw a well-dressed middle-aged man, and immediately knew that today he would be buying more grams than usual.

What he had no idea was that this middle-aged man was one of the biggest killers in the underworld, but the weirdest thing about it was that he was almost robbed by a brat.

Intrigued because he couldn't feel anything from the brat, he took him as his student, and imparted all the knowledge he had, teaching him lethal martial arts, use of bladed weapons, strategy, intelligence gathering, all to make this student of his one of the world's greatest assassins, just like him.

After only 4 years of hellish training, Frank had developed a sin, laziness, Frank was very lazy to do things, so his life plan was, to earn as much money as possible to live comfortably in the least amount of time possible.

That's how he spent 5 years, doing as many missions as possible, until he earned a fortune for his whole life.

It had been 1 year since he vanished from the underworld as an assassin, now he was a "normal person", with an identity of rich parents who left him all their fortune.

Frank was sitting in his apartment, immersed in an online multiplayer game. The sound of keystrokes and mouse clicks, smoke exhaled from his lips, along with soulful music filled the room while his black eyes remained fixed on the screen. It was his way of entertaining himself and having a good time.

After several intense hours of playing, exhaustion began to set in. His eyelids were getting heavier and his mind was only thinking about his comfortable mattress. He decided to take a break, turned on the air conditioning and plopped down on the large bed that occupied a corner of his room.

As he settled in and closed his eyes, an object unexpectedly fell from above. The impact was instantaneous and brutal, an explosion of pain that ripped through his skull. Senseless and uncomprehending of what had happened, Frank faded into darkness.

When he finally regained consciousness, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. The room he was in was larger and more minimalist, with a window that let in the faint rays of sunlight. His body felt strange, weak somehow, as if he had lost all his years of training.

Thinking about it makes his heart ache, if he were to lose all the results of training, he would rather die and rest for eternity.

Looking in the mirror, Frank was surprised to see an unfamiliar face.

Blond hair with golden tints, slightly cold dark eyes, perfect eyebrows, sharp nose, and two earrings in each earlobe. His physique was quite a bit less than what he had before, but his face was much more handsome than his previous dull, normal face.

As he looked at his new appearance, a severe headache overwhelmed Frank, and he fainted again, almost knocking over the mirror that was hanging on the wall.

When he finally regained consciousness, a flood of memories flashed through his mind, overwhelming him for a few seconds.

When he regained clarity in his eyes, he looked again at his appearance and saw that a small bruise was beginning to take shape on his forehead; it was when he fell when he fainted.

The memories were of a life, his new life.

He was now a man named Frank White, eighteen years old a week ago, his parents passed away a week ago, exactly on his birthday. They had no relatives on his parents' side and there was no one else in the world he knew, no friends, no girlfriend, no nothing.

Therefore, the boy started using fluoxetine, citalopram and many other antidepressants, so as not to fall to the bottom of his life, although he still fell, and committed suicide with a lethal dose of antidepressants.

(If you are in shit, with shitty thoughts or know someone, do not hesitate to get help from a suicide assistance center).

"Sigh."

Feeling overwhelmed by the turmoil he found himself in, Frank decided to fix shit in this second life. He knew that his old life for many would have been a horror, but for him really, it was paradise, striving unprecedentedly for 9 years, to live quietly without worrying about money or any lower class person problems was paradise.

Although he knows it wasn't the most moral thing to go killing random people, but they gave him money, so there wasn't much of a problem with that, besides not feeling so guilty, they were all powerful people with very dirty hands.

That aside, Frank was having trouble in this new life, he didn't know what the fuck to do to make money and live. Although from memories he knew he had enough money for a few months, but it wasn't enough for him, he needed millions to worry about absolutely nothing.

He wanted a car, there should be no problem, he wanted the best weed, there should be no problem, that's how his life should be.

Thinking about what would be the best option, a little memory popped up in his mind.

Before the previous body committed suicide, he was playing a game identical to the MOBA he played, only with small changes, such as champions, lore, skills, but the methodology was identical, teams of 5, 3 lanes, a jungle, everything the same.

The poor guy was playing an excellent game, going 6/0/2 in an early game, it was an easy game to win, but his team was selected by the devil himself, his botlane was going 3/20/3, the adc was a toxic, his support got tired of him and decided to go to study apparently, his top was completely useless, he was out of the game, he wasn't even good to tanky a super minion.

After losing the game, his mood, which was already on the brink, broke and he decided to take the worst possible decision, but not a bad one for me either, although I would have loved to stay at home sleeping.

Now what was the plan to make money with little effort, or at least much less than his previous life, was obvious.

Being a fucking professional "Fantasy Legends" player, the former body was an incredible player, ranked in the top 10 of his country, only that depression took a toll on him.

Moving his feet towards the desk where the computer was, he turned it on, and took a seat, while looking around, decent 21°px monitor, semi-mechanical keyboard, big mouse, perfect for his hand.

Once he turned on the computer, he double-clicked on "Fantasy Legends", while his left hand unconsciously went to a left side of the monitor, he was looking for his cigarette pack, but the former body didn't smoke, so he will have to buy cigarettes later.

As the game opened, he went to look at the computer specs.

8gb of RAM, an outdated processor that brought an integrated graphics, no graphics card.

"What the fuck, how did he play on this crap?" I couldn't help but blurt out insults to the cheap bastard.

Even though he didn't have a job, his parents left him enough money to buy a good computer and still be able to last a few months, eventually he would have to find work, but hey, that's life.

"Sigh."

Another sigh in less than 20 minutes, he really needed to sleep for a while, leaving the computer on, while the game was already open, he plopped down on his soft bed.