No Regrets in This Life!
Alpha male. It’s a term for a true man—one who keeps cold reason in his head, unshakable will in his chest, and bold, unstoppable spirit in his limbs. I had always aimed to live that kind of life. And I had lived it.
Maybe it was the influence of being born into a blacksmith family, the traditional trade of real men, or maybe it was just my natural temperament. Either way, that was how Choi Kang-chul lived his life. I finished my mandatory service in the special forces, loved meat, enjoyed working out, and… did a bit of reading on the side. As for my job, I followed the family tradition and worked as a blacksmith.
I had two older brothers above me, and the eldest was already set to inherit the family business. The reason I still chose this path—one that was neither easy nor lucrative—was simple. Blacksmithing was the very essence of what it meant to be an alpha male. The job of handling roaring flames and the solid steel forged within them perfectly embodied the spirit of a real man.
Scorching fire and cold steel. Those were the very symbols of an alpha male. And so, living a life faithful to that ideal in every way, I was now facing an end that suited such a man.
“Emergency patient over here!”
“Q-quick, stop the bleeding…”
“…It’s too late… He’s already…”
My lower body had been completely obliterated by the dump truck. Even an alpha male like me knew there was no surviving this. But I had no regrets.
The two girls staring at me with tears in their eyes. In my fading vision, I looked at the fragile lives I had saved with my own hands and managed to flash a deep, satisfied smile even as I died.
A true alpha male must be willing to step forward for the weak. To uphold that belief with my life—what a magnificent final act this was!
As my consciousness faded, I could proudly shout to myself:
With that strangely joyful end, my consciousness went completely dark. I didn’t have any firm beliefs about the afterlife, but I figured that no matter where I went, I would live an alpha-male life there too. With that thought, I embraced death.
Or so I thought…
‘Huh?’
Suddenly, awareness began to return. The warm something I had been in gave way to a sudden cold sensation, and I opened my eyes.
What I saw in front of me was…
“What is this… How… How can something be this hideous…”
“?”
A woman looking down at me with a face full of contempt. Her red hair and breathtaking beauty made the word “beautiful” feel automatic. At the same time, I saw my own tiny, chubby baby hand reaching toward her.
The moment I saw that, I understood. This woman was my ‘mother’ in this new life.
But then—
“!?”
My so-called ‘mother’ picked me up and carried me straight toward the window. The look of utter disgust in her eyes as she stared at me told me something was very wrong.
At that moment—
“This cannot be… That I, Hera, Queen of the Gods, would give birth to such a monster as my firstborn… Oh… If anyone were to find out about this…”
A familiar name reached my ears. Hera. Since one of my hobbies had been reading, I naturally knew it. The goddess Hera from Greek mythology. The queen of the gods and goddess of marriage and family.
And another crucial word that had just left her mouth. ‘Firstborn.’ With that, I quickly realized who I had reincarnated as.
Hephaestus. Or Vulcanus in Latin. The firstborn son of Hera and Zeus, the god of blacksmiths and volcanoes.
Since blacksmithing had been my main job in my previous life, the name was more than familiar—it felt almost intimate. But that aside, the current situation forced me to make a swift decision.
In the myths, Hephaestus was abandoned by Hera right after birth because of his ugly face. And by “abandoned,” I mean she literally threw her newborn son off Olympus. In other words, she had committed infanticide against her own child.
Even an ordinary person committing such an act would be an unforgivable sin against heaven itself. Yet the bitch who did it was supposedly the goddess of marriage and motherhood. This was supposed to be the goddess of family?
It really drove home just how fucked-up Greek mythology was. Sure, the father throws his kids into hell, the son cuts off his father’s dick, and that son in turn swallows his own children alive. It’s a total shitshow of a world. But a goddess of family and motherhood trying to murder her firstborn simply because of his face? That crossed the line by a mile.
And there was no way in hell I could acknowledge a goddess who would do something so utterly pathetic as my mother.
So what exactly was the woman in front of me?
The ancient original alpha-male scholar Mencius once said: He who harms benevolence and righteousness is a thief. I’ve heard of people beating thieves to death, but I’ve never heard of anyone beating a ruler to death. In other words, no matter how high and mighty someone is—even if it’s a so-called exalted goddess—the moment they pull some dogshit move, they’re nothing but a thief’s spawn who deserves to be beaten to death.
Having reached that conclusion—
—WHAM!!!!
“Kuh-heeek!!!”
I slammed my tiny fist with all my strength into the face of this thieving bitch who was about to toss me out the window.
“Wh… what…?”
Hera collapsed to the floor, blood gushing from her nose from the unexpected blow. I landed neatly on the railing, flames rising naturally in both hands thanks to my innate divine power. Then, with the fury of a true alpha male, I spoke short, thick, and blunt.
“Shut your fucking mouth, you bitch.”