Mirai~~
Chapter 1
On a cloudy night, rain poured heavily over the earth. Outside a closed room, a group of men waited with restless impatience, their eyes flicking toward the door at every sound. From within came the piercing screams of a woman, echoing through the house, while the other women rushed about, their hands trembling with urgency.
Then—suddenly—a lightning bolt split the sky, flooding the earth with its fierce glow. And in that very instant, a newborn’s cry rose above the storm.
The men froze, their breath caught in their throats. The storm outside still raged, but inside the house, the sound of that cry felt like light breaking through the darkness. Their eyes softened, the weight of worry lifting, as they realized—new life had come into the world
Inside the room, the women froze the moment they saw the newborn. Silence fell, broken only by the storm outside and the baby’s faint cry. The eldest among them stepped forward, her hands trembling as she lifted the child into her arms. Fear clouded her eyes, as though the tiny life carried with it something far greater—and far heavier—than any of them could bear.
On the bed, the mother lay exhausted, too weak even to open her eyes fully. Yet she forced her gaze toward the elder woman, her lips quivering, her heart breaking. In that look was no joy—only hopelessness, as though she already knew what fate awaited the child she had just brought into the world.
The elder woman wrapped the newborn in a cloth, her hands steadying only after she drew in a deep breath. With heavy steps, she pushed open the door and stepped out.
At once, the waiting men rushed toward her, their faces lit with restless excitement.
Lifting the child high, the old woman called out, her voice ringing over the storm:
“It’s a boy!”
For a heartbeat, silence followed—inside the room, the women remained frozen, their eyes filled with unspoken dread. But outside, the men erupted in joy. Cheers echoed, and the eldest man raised a sacred conch shell to his lips. As its deep, resonant sound rolled through the house, it mingled with the thunder, announcing the birth to heaven and earth alike.
In Spain, the night pulsed with life. One of the city’s most famous nightclubs was alive with blinding neon lights, vibrating bass, and the rhythmic sway of bodies lost to the music. Laughter and cheers mixed with the thrum of Spanish beats, glasses clinked, and the air was thick with perfume, sweat, and the faint haze of smoke.
On the dance floor, strangers moved like they had known each other forever, drawn together by the intoxicating energy of the night. VIP balconies overlooked the chaos below, where the wealthy and powerful lounged with drinks in hand, watching the storm of neon and ecstasy unfold.
On the dance floor, a man moved with wild abandon, sweat glistening under the strobe lights. His so-called friends circled him, laughing and cheering, but their eyes held a mix of envy and mockery—like they were more amused by his chaos than truly part of it.
He threw his arms up, spinning, stomping, losing himself in the music, yet there was something almost desperate in his movements, as if each beat was a way to drown out a reality he didn’t want to face. Around him, the crowd blurred into streaks of light and shadow, but he remained the center of his own storm.
After the party, fully drunk, he stumbled toward the parking area, flanked by his rich, spoiled friends
Suddenly, his phone rang. In a drunken haze, he fumbled to pick it up, his so-called friends already gone, each slipping away in their own cars. Leaning back against his car for support, he answered the call, a lazy, drunken smile tugging at his lips.
Shiv
“Hello, meri jaan…” he slurred slightly, his tone affectionate as he spoke to his mother.
Shiv mother
You drunken brat! Where are you?” she yelled through the phone.
Shiv
He pulled the phone away from his ear, wincing. “Damn… that nearly broke my eardrums.”
Shiv mother
Good! Maybe it should’ve, and after office hours. And why didn’t you go on that blind date I arranged for you, you little brat?
Shiv
Laughing, swaying slightly against his car “Oh come on… you know this Shiv’s life has no room for love or women… except my mommy.”
Shiv mother
Whatever… don’t come to our house. Just comes to Grandma’s.
Shiv mother
Grandma’s not well. She said she wants to see you
He somehow stumbled into his car, barely managing to drive, and eventually reached his apartment. Without a word, he headed straight for the bathroom. Under the hot shower, he undressed, revealing the intricate Shiv Tandav tattoo etched across his back. Water streamed down from his damp, messy hair, tracing the curves and lines of the tattoo, making it glisten under the bathroom light
the adopted son of Mr Sreenivasan
When he was born, he was abandoned at the Parvati Temple—only to be found by Mrs. Sreenivasan, a woman who could never have children of her own.
Now, he is the CEO of the renowned SN Group of Companies, a position that commands both power and respect.
As the only child, Mr. and Mrs. Sreenivasan pampered him endlessly, which made him a little spoiled—but despite that, he has his own strong sense of morals.
Right now, he’s over 29, which makes his mother anxious that her only son might remain a lifelong bachelor—a fate he secretly wishes for himself, so you can hardly blame her worry.
To him, love only takes away freedom, so he isn’t interested in it—and he certainly doesn’t want some fleeting fling that would compromise his morals.
Yet, to women, he’s a heartthrob. He effortlessly meets their expectations without even trying. He respects people regardless of gender and exudes a natural, magnetic vibe. As for his looks—well, they speak for themselves. Tall, with a striking, messy funk hairstyle, a chiseled yet perfectly balanced muscular body—not overbuilt, but ideal—he’s the embodiment of a fictional character brought to life.
He hurriedly packed his bag with the essentials, making sure to toss in a few of his favorite reading books
Chapter 2
He had just landed in India and was now waiting at the station for the train that would take him to his grandmother’s village.
The journey had already kept him company with two books, both devoured cover to cover before boredom could creep in. As the train approached, he reached into his bag for another. His fingers brushed against a familiar spine—one wrapped in a vintage, worn-out cover. He pulled it out, curiosity flickering across his face.
At that moment, the train screeched to a halt. In a small rush, he boarded, found himself a seat, and settled in. Only then did he take a proper look at the book in his hands
Shiv
Shiv (muttering to himself): “When did I even buy this?…”
His mind dug through memories, and then it clicked.
“Ah… this was from that forest trip. That old man gave it to me.”
Turning it over, he read the title embossed faintly on the cover.
The word felt strange yet inviting on his tongue. With a slow, deliberate motion, Shiv opened the book…
Hours later, the train rattled through the dark countryside. Shiv leaned back, flipping through the last few pages of the book he had rushed to finish.
Shiv
slams the book shut in frustration, muttering under his breath “What the fu*k? Since when did it become a trend to glorify villains? Making them look like saints and letting them win against the hero? Where the hell was this author’s mind while writing this?” he exhales sharply, trying to swallow down the rising irritation.
He exhales sharply, his jaw tight with frustration, and moves to toss the book aside. But just then, something at the back catches his eye. The cover looks worn, as if time itself had scraped away the ink. Most of it is faded, blurred beyond recognition… yet somehow, in the flicker of the train’s dull light, the words seem to breathe back into focus.
softly, almost to himself “Huh? What’s this…?”
Shiv squints, leaning closer. His lips part as he starts to read the barely visible text.
Shiv’s eyes traced the faded lines, whispering as if the book itself demanded voice.
Shiv
“In this harsh world, you were only my hope… my future… and Mirai. So come to me… where were you, who were you… come to me… come back, Mirai…”
As the words left his lips, the train suddenly dimmed. Outside, the silver moon was devoured by the sun’s shadow — an eclipse swallowing the night. Unknowingly, Shiv’s voice carried no sound, yet the air around him thrummed with a rhythm, as though the lines had turned into an ancient chant
The letters on the page began to shimmer faintly, glowing in a golden light invisible to the naked eye. To Shiv, the words remained faded and unclear — but the book itself was no longer silent.
The train began to slow, its wheels screeching faintly against the tracks. Shiv had been distracted, chatting with his new seatmate —
a government doctor newly appointed to the very village where Shiv’s grandmother lived.
Ishwar
smiling, trying to lighten the mood “So, how was the story? Wait, let me guess. From your expression… it was the worst one you’ve ever read, right?”
Shiv
snorts, leaning back with irritation “Truly… this book’s a sh*t. Totally.” his jaw tightened as the memory of the climax made his frustration boil up again.
Ishwar
chuckling “Oh really? That bad? Then come on, give me a spoiler, man.” his tone playful, almost teasing.
Shiv sighed deeply, about to open his mouth and vent about the story’s ending, when the speakers above crackled to life.
Announcement: flat, metallic voice “Your attention, please. The next station, Busan, will be arriving shortly.”
Shiv’s words froze in his throat. Both he and Ishwar turned sharply to each other, eyes wide with shock and confusion. For a long beat, neither spoke — because they both knew Busan wasn’t in India. It was in South Korea.
Shiv
whispering, uncertain “Are we… did we hear that wrong?”
Ishwar
slowly shaking his head, his voice low and tense “I don’t think so. Just look around.”
The few passengers scattered in the dim carriage wore the same expression — surprise, disbelief, unease. The night outside the windows was pitch black, offering no answers, no proof of where they were. Yet the name “Busan” hung in the air, undeniable.
The train screeched and finally came to a halt. With a hiss, the doors slid open. A glowing sign outside flickered in the dim night — bold Hangul letters spelling it out clearly: Busan Station.
Gasps rippled through the carriage. Some passengers leaned closer to the window, others clutched their bags tighter. No one spoke — no one could explain how they had crossed countries in the dead of night.
And then, without warning, the air itself split like shattered glass. A ripple spread across the cabin, and a massive blue-transparent screen materialized before everyone’s eyes. The glow washed over the carriage, painting every face in shades of blue. Hearts pounded. Mouths fell open.
[ Welcome to the world of Mirai ]
The carriage erupted with whispers. Some passengers gasped, others waved their hands uselessly at the screen as if they could swipe it away. A few just sat frozen, staring wide-eyed at the message burned into their vision.
Shiv blinked hard. The word — Mirai — struck something faint in his memory. Familiar, like a face glimpsed once in a crowd. He didn’t know why, but it tugged at him, unsettling in a way he couldn’t explain.
His lips parted, but no words came. Around him, panic spread like a slow fever. Yet Shiv kept staring at that single word, as if it was whispering only to him.
Chapter 3
He stared at the screen — at that one word.
Shiv
Why does this feel familiar somehow? — he thought, eyes locking on the center of the crowd as if expecting something. A bead of sweat slipped from his temple and hit the floor. Right then, in the exact spot he was staring at, something formed.
Shiv’s eyes widened. His voice and breath caught. He couldn’t look away.
Shiv
This is— he couldn’t speak, memories of the first page of the Mirai book flooding back.
The world of Mirai had once been hopeful and bright, until they came. After that the world turned hopeless, its future stolen. The gods, watching their children suffer, blessed them — but before humans could enjoy that blessing, they returned. This time they did not want humans; they wanted the gods’ blessing. They came to devour it.
When the main lead traveled, the train was suddenly hijacked by that bloody creature: innocent and chubby like a doll, but utterly the opposite.
Ishwar
(whispering into Shiv’s ear) Hey Shiv, don’t you think this looks like the ORV dokkaebi? Did we transmit to ORV? Oh my god, my dokja — I can see him. Hurry, find something, insect— fanboying.
Shiv
Shut up, you idiot. This isn’t Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint. This isn’t a dokkaebi — we’re in Mirai, and that thing is a high-rank demon familiar. His voice shook. We’re in danger.
Ishwar
what? *low voice but his shock and surprise was still in his voice* that worst story you just read?
Shiv
yeah it is and from here onwards the protagonist fully bloodlust against the demons
Shiv
not at because the protagonist only care about him and his brother others no matter to him
Ishwar
damn it no wonder it was a worst story
Shiv
we need to survive ishwar*determine*
Ishwar
yeah of course we will be after we have something the protagonist don't have
Shiv
what is that? *confusion*
Ishwar
A Omniscient Reader dokja like you... *chill tone*
Shiv
*lightly laugh without making sound* but i don't have fourth wall or something*joke along*
Ishwar
low voice, but still trembling with shock That… that worst story you just read?
Shiv
Yeah. From this point, the protagonist goes full bloodlust against the demons.
Ishwar
Damn it. No wonder it was such a terrible story.
Shiv
*Determined*We need to survive, Ishwar.
Ishwar
Of course we will. After all, we have something the protagonist doesn’t.
Shiv
*Confused* And what’s that?
Ishwar
An Omniscient Reader’s Dokja… like you. *grins in a chilling tone*
Shiv
Suppresses a laugh, whispering But I don’t have a Fourth Wall or anything. jokes along
Shiv
*grimly*By the way, get ready. We’re about to be dragged into a survival game by this damn demon familiar
Ishwar
*startled*What do you mean by that?
Before he can finish, the creature lets out a laugh. Not a human laugh — but something warped, high-pitched and hollow, echoing like a broken toy.
random person
W-Who… who are you?! *their voice trembles, body shaking*
demon familiar
tilting its round head, grinning wide Who am I? Ahh, I’m no mere creature. I am the familiar of an Upper Demon Master. And today… *its voice distorts, shifting between childlike glee and monstrous growl* …I’m going to play with you. I’ll hunt you all down, one by one, while seeking the incarnations. bursts into eerie laughter
Download NovelToon APP on App Store and Google Play
