I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 587 587: Carl, is that you?

”Adventures were complicated,” Jack replied, his voice steady despite internal conflict. ”A lot of political maneuvering, some combat situations that required creative solutions. Nothing that would significantly impact Kaiser Holdingsʼ operations unless youʼre concerned about my reputation affecting business relationships.”

Octaviaʼs expression showed interest; her sharp financial mind was already processing the implications. ”Your reputation does the heavy lifting for our business relationships. As long as youʼre not starting wars with major trading partners, we should be fine.”

The conversation was normal, exactly what Octavia would say.

Lady Genevieve moved closer, her maternal instinct overriding the business discussion, and reached toward Jackʼs face with a gentle gesture.

”Let me look at you properly. Youʼve been gone so long, and I want to make sure youʼre actually taking care of yourself.”

Her hand touched his cheek.

The sensation was wrong.

Room temperature.

Completely neutral, neither warm nor cold, existing in a thermal state that human skin couldnʼt naturally achieve.

The texture was too smooth, lacking the subtle imperfections and variations of living tissue.

And when Jackʼs enhanced perception focused on the contact point, he could see that her fingerprints were absent, just as Annabelleʼs were.

”Mother?” Jackʼs voice carried uncertainty he couldnʼt quite suppress.

Lady Genevieveʼs smile remained warm, maternal affection unchanged by his tone. ”You look tired, dear. Have you been resting properly between whatever dangerous situations youʼve been throwing yourself into?”

The question was exactly what his mother would ask.

But her hand felt like marble.

Jack stepped back, breaking contact with the motion that made Lady Genevieveʼs expression shift toward concern.

”Iʼm fine. Just need a moment to process being home after everything thatʼs happened.”

He turned toward the gardensʼ edge, his enhanced perception sweeping across the entire environment as his tactical awareness tried to identify what was wrong beyond the individual anomalies heʼd been cataloging.

Thatʼs when he saw Carl.

The man was standing near the gardenʼs entrance, his presence so natural that Jackʼs conscious mind had initially filtered him out as background detail rather than a notable element.

Airport security uniform, the same outfit Carl had worn during their shared graveyard shifts, checking badges and opening gates for irritated travelers.

Except Carl was dead.

Theyʼd died together when the truck had tumbled down onto the security checkpoint, massive explosion consuming them both in flames and twisted metal that had ended Jackʼs first life and somehow facilitated his reincarnation into this world governed by System mechanics and magical law.

Carl couldnʼt be here.

He couldnʼt be standing in the Kaiser Estateʼs gardens wearing a Kevlar vest and carrying a 9mm sidearm that had no place in a fantasy setting where plate armor and enchanted weapons represented standard protective equipment.

But the family was treating him like he belonged.

Octavia nodded toward Carl with casual acknowledgment. ”The guardʼs been very diligent about perimeter security. Father was impressed with his dedication.”

Duke Alaricʼs slight nod confirmed the assessment. ”Good man. Knows his duty.”

They were seeing plate armor, where Jack saw Kevlar.

An enchanted sword, where Jack saw a modern firearm.

Their perception filtered Carlʼs appearance through a lens appropriate for Elysiumʼs medieval-adjacent civilization, rather than recognizing the Earth technology that had no business existing in this environment.

Jackʼs enhanced vision focused on Carlʼs face, trying to confirm identity, even as he grew more certain that focusing too intently would reveal something his tactical awareness warned him not to see.

The face began to pixelate.

Carlʼs features were breaking down into digital artifacts, his skin fragmenting into squares of color that shifted and reorganized in patterns that hurt to observe.

The visual distortion spread from his eyes outward, consuming his nose, mouth, and ears in corruption.

The dungeon was struggling to maintain a complex memory of a dead man from a different universe while simultaneously projecting the Kaiser family.

Pain spiked through Jackʼs skull as he continued staring, his perception trying to process visual data that violated every principle of optical physics his brain understood.

The pixelation intensified, Carlʼs entire head becoming a mass of corrupted data that flickered between multiple states without settling into a coherent form.

Then the radio on Carlʼs shoulder activated.

Static burst from the speaker, harsh white noise that cut through the gardenʼs ambient sounds with jarring intensity.

But underneath the static, barely audible beneath the electronic interference, Jack could hear screaming.

His own voice.

Carlʼs voice.

The desperate final seconds before the truckʼs impact and subsequent explosion had ended both their lives, preserved somehow in an audio recording that shouldnʼt exist outside Jackʼs traumatic memories.

The sound of the truckʼs engine revving, the screech of tires losing traction. Then the impact, screaming, and finally the explosion.

It was looping.

Playing on repeat through Carlʼs radio with volume that should have been impossible to miss.

”The birds are singing so lovely today,” Celeste observed, her tone carrying the same appreciation sheʼd always shown for the estateʼs natural ambiance. ”Motherʼs really outdone herself with the garden this year.”

Annabelleʼs agreement came in shortly after. ”Itʼs beautiful. I was telling Jack how peaceful everything feels.”

They were hearing birds.

Cheerful natural sounds are appropriate for an afternoon in well-maintained noble gardens.

They werenʼt hearing the screaming.

The audio playback of violent death that was emanating from Carlʼs radio, with a volume that made Jackʼs enhanced hearing flinch despite considerable noise tolerance.

The disconnect was disturbing.

His family was experiencing a reality completely different from what Jackʼs enhanced perception was cataloging, their shared illusion filtering out elements that didnʼt fit the peaceful homecoming narrative.

Jackʼs mind finally acknowledged what his conscience had been suppressing for hours: this wasnʼt real.

The Kaiser Estate, the gardens, his family.

None of it was actually happening outside the constructed illusion designed to trap him in comfortable fantasy, while the dungeon accomplished whatever purpose these mental traps served.

Jack raised his left hand, the limb that shouldnʼt exist.

The amputation had been a permanent consequence, a physical cost that couldnʼt be regenerated through normal healing.

But here it was.

Moving in response to his mental commands with a full range of motion that confirmed the hand was present despite the impossibility.

Jackʼs consciousness reached inward, gathering fire.

The elemental energy responded to his will, flames manifesting around his left hand with visual confirmation that the technique was activating properly.

He could see the fire.

Orange and red tinges of flame wreathing his fingers, heat shimmer distorting the air around his hand in ways that confirmed magical energy was being properly channeled.

But he couldnʼt feel the heat.

The sensation was absent.

His nerves reported nothing beyond neutral temperature, no feedback confirming that the flames were actually present beyond visual confirmation from his eyes.

The disconnect was there.

The visual observation of fire, coupled with the absence of tactile sensation, presented a contradiction that would be impossible if the hand were indeed tangible.

Jackʼs breathing remained steady despite slow dawning horror creeping through his awareness.

The illusion could provide a visual representation of his left hand, could make it respond to motor commands, and could even simulate magical techniques being channeled through the phantom limb.

But it couldnʼt replicate the internal mana flow that should accompany fire manifestation.