Chapter 1

"Why does this caviar smell so fishy? I'm not eating it! It's disgusting!" An elegant glass plate was violently swept to the floor. Black caviar splattered across the carpet, looking just like the eyes of the sparrows I had seen frozen to death that winter.

I floated in midair, watching the young man in a handmade suit tailored just for him throw a tantrum.

His face was identical to mine, which made me realize he was Ethan Howard, my older twin brother.

The middle-aged couple sitting beside him were trying to calm him down, their expressions full of affection. They looked exactly like my parents before my supposed transmigration.

"It's all right, Ethan. We just had it air-flown in. There might be something wrong with this batch," My dad, Dave Howard, said as he gently patted Ethan's shoulder in his casual outfit.

"Then don't eat it. I'll have someone bring you something else. What would you like? Gallic food or something from Seabrook?" My mom, Dr. Jillian Howard, a renowned professor in the city of Ashton, said as she pushed up her gold-framed glasses with a tone full of indulgence.

I looked down at myself.

My soul still looked the way I had when I died.

I was still wrapped in that tattered coat, its cotton padding poking out through the holes. My shoes had been worn through, exposing toes that had turned blue and purple, and I still clutched that half a loaf of bread against my chest.

I had spent three days chopping firewood for Lord Leonard Neville's family. He was the landlord, and all that work had earned me half a loaf of bread made from mixed grains. It was as hard as a rock, but it was the only food that could keep my "parents" and me alive.

Just ten minutes earlier, I had collapsed in the raging snowstorm.

Even as I lay dying, all I could think about was how my "mother's" leg pain had flared up again. Without that food, she would not survive the winter.

I had thought I was simply unlucky to have transmigrated back to such troubled times. I had thought that if I worked hard enough and took good care of my parents, I could eventually give us a better life.

Then my soul passed through an invisible barrier, and I saw the absurd scene before me.

There had been no Aldren Kingdom, no turmoil, and definitely no famine.

The medieval city that had held me captive for six years was nothing more than a fully enclosed film studio complex deep in the mountains.

My mother, who always coughed, and my father, who could not see, were just actors collecting a paycheck.

Only me.

I alone had been fighting for my life. I was the sole performer in their carefully constructed lie.

"Mom, Dad, isn't the presentation for that experiment today?" His tantrum over, Ethan seemed to remember something and casually popped a cherry into his mouth.

At the word "experiment", our mom finally gave a smug smile. "That's right. Your father and I have poured six years of work into this. 'Nature Versus Nurture Under Extreme Conditions. A Comparative Observational Study of Twins.'

"Today, we'll prove to the world that the environment determines destiny and poverty breeds crime."

Dad also smiled. He straightened his collar, his eyes gleaming with fanatical excitement. "Ethan, you're the perfect subject. We've raised you in comfort, and you're confident and bold, with limitless potential. As for your brother..."

He paused, contempt and disgust creeping into his voice. "He grew up in a simulated medieval slum with no access to education, struggling to survive every day. According to our model, he should have learned to steal and lie by now. He might even turn violent over half a bread roll.

"He's inferior. A failure."

As I floated above them and listened, a chill ran through me. It was worse than the winter cold that had killed me in the snow.

My mom glanced at the expensive watch on her wrist and stood up. "It's almost time. The presentation's about to start. Ethan, you're coming too. Let everyone see what a proper elite education can produce."

Ethan raised his chin proudly and held his Dad's arm. "Sure. I want to see what a mess that poor loser has become."

The three of them walked out together, laughing and chatting as they stepped on the expensive carpet.