Bank Of The Universe - Chapter 22 - Trading Soul

Rin was a nobody—just a gamer with a love for manga—until death dragged him into another world.Reborn as Auren, the third prince of the cruel and war-hungry King Aurelus of Austerra, he enters a realm ruled by magic and divine systems. Every person is born with a Divine Frame—a gift that defines their class, power, and fate.Everyone… except him.Frameless. Powerless. Disposable. Auren is cast aside as a mistake that shouldn't exist. But hidden beneath that flaw is a terrifying truth: no Frame means no limits. With nothing holding him back, he begins mastering all paths—mage, warrior, healer, assassin—enhancing them with Earth’s forgotten science.In a world that thrives on order, Auren is chaos. And from that chaos, a legend is born.

On the night when the savior of the wizarding world should have been born, Harry Potter died under the unforgivable curse.

The man who made almost all British wizards dare not call him by name, regained the wisdom and ambition that belonged to him from the Horcrux.

Darkness has completely enveloped the island of Great Britain.

Wizards are divided into high and low according to their bloodlines. Pure blood firmly holds the authority that belongs to the superior, and people called mudbloods can only be as humble as mud and trampled on throughout their lives.

The Ministry of Magic, which is supposed to enforce justice, is full of villains, and the castle, which is supposed to impart knowledge, is full of oppression.

In these dark times.

Jon Green, who came from across time, was brought into the exiled carriage that truly inherited the title of “Hogwarts”…

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- Description from novelbuddy

I smile. I know I smile. I just don't know when.“Entropy?” After all, the blood in my veins dried up decades ago, only dust remains.“Ephemera?” My begging longingness—all of my dreams, devoured by void. Left is but an empty shell—hollow inside.“Life?” Paradox.“Death?” Cold, but equal for all. Just like the blood in my heart's arteries and veins— frozen—time immemorial.“Universe?” Its fabric—time and space, wrapped around like some illusion, a grand simulation—just like that dream...faint, but there.“Dream?” I couldn't tell...very...disorderly like chaos, like silhouette in the mist, hard to capture, it's memory very faint.“Home?”“Home?”“Are you there?”...***Reality fiction.

“I hesitated before, I turned back to face my shred of hope, yet still no one cared.”“Later the thick fog arose, you said you loved me so much, but why is your love even fainter than the fog, so faint that I can’t even see it clearly.”