Arthur had a rather recognizable quirk: he was always wearing gold accessories. Whether it was his "classic" necklace or bracelets, even his laptop and water bottle were gold. If anyone saw him go through an entire day without wearing something golden, they would immediately think something was wrong.
It was a sunny afternoon, much like any other, and Arthur was leading a self-defense class for a group of rookie police officers. The NYPD academy gym echoed with the sharp sounds of bodies hitting mats, firm footsteps, and curt commands.
He had a natural aura that made anyone trust him, no matter how cold or suspicious they were. His charisma was unmistakable, almost like sorcery, combined with a bizarre tendency to collect anything he found interesting.
"Always keep your feet planted," he said while demonstrating a throw. The officer serving as his example flew over Arthur's shoulder and landed on the mat with a heavy thud, groaning something between pain and admiration.
"See that? You need control. Don't rely on strength alone," he added, straightening up with a smile.
While they tried to imitate the movement, Arthur turned to grab a bottle of water. It was then that he noticed an unusual visitor in the gym.
Near the entrance, speaking with the police chief, stood a girl.
She seemed out of place in that environment. Her blonde hair shimmered beneath the sunlight pouring through the windows, falling in soft strands over her shoulders. Her blue eyes observed everything around her with genuine interest.
[A/N: No, this is not Seras from Hellsing.]
She looked about seventeen, maybe eighteen years old. One or two years younger than him.
[A/N: Basic math says subtraction is easy, but Arthur is 19 during this flashback.]
When her eyes met his, time itself seemed to stop.
Arthur froze, as if struck by lightning directly in the chest. The noise around him vanished; the entire world dissolved into silence. All that remained was that gaze, a light that pierced through him as though reading his soul.
For a second, he nearly dropped his water bottle.
If he had been wearing glasses, he was certain they would have cracked.
Now I understand how Sakamoto felt when he met his wife, he thought.
The girl, meanwhile, quickly looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. Even so, she smiled at him before returning to her conversation with the man beside her.
That man was the police chief.
It was only when he heard her name that Arthur learned who she was.
"Gwen Stacy."
The daughter of Police Chief George Stacy.
He almost laughed. Fate was playing with him once again—an ex-assassin now charmed by the police chief's daughter.
In the weeks that followed, after giving it some thought, he decided not to hold himself back. He was not that kind of man.
Although he had abandoned much of his arrogance and narcissism, Arthur Morgan was not the type to hide his feelings. He absolutely refused to become some spineless romance protagonist who concealed his emotions.
Yes, he was still arrogant. But now, only in the right measure.
Besides, it was impossible not to like that lively and adorable girl.
He always found ways to start conversations with her, and she seemed to enjoy the way he acted and spoke. Their relationship progressed quickly.
Gwen had an energy unlike anything he was used to.
Her father, George Stacy, did not take long to notice the growing attraction between them.
The looks he gave Arthur were cold and assessing—the kind of look a policeman reserves for a suspect who has not yet been caught. Yet, curiously, George never said anything directly or tried to stop them. Perhaps out of respect for Arthur's good behavior, perhaps due to silent vigilance, or perhaps because somehow, he had accepted Arthur.
He even offered to recommend him for the police academy.
It was rather amusing to see George so eager to have a policeman as a future son-in-law.
Unfortunately, Arthur refused. An ex-assassin becoming a police officer sounded like a joke too tasteless for him to even laugh at.
---xXx---
About a month after he and Gwen started dating, roughly five months after he began working as an NYPD instructor, something unexpected appeared before him.
It was one of those systems that usually show up in fantasy stories.
Actually, the more accurate way to put it was that a strange portal suddenly opened in front of him and spat the thing out.
It was a Login System.
Its function was simple: log in daily and receive rewards, ranging from useless junk to bizarre tools for even stranger fetishes.
At first, the prizes were laughable.
Disposable items, worthless trinkets, trivial skills that could be learned from any cheap self-help book.
But among the rewards, there were a few gems.
Still, nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary… until the day he received something strange.
[Full Memory Unlock]
The moment the notification appeared before his eyes, Arthur felt an odd warmth spread through his mind.
The floating screen shimmered in a peculiar golden tone, different from the usual blue the System displayed.
"Memory unlock...?" he muttered, frowning.
For an instant, the world around him seemed to distort. His room dissolved into fragments of light, and a familiar sensation overtook his body.
The sound of wind sweeping over stone walls. The heavy perfume of incense burning in temples. The gleam of the walls of a city that did not exist in this modern world.
Arthur gasped, clutching his head as fragmented images intertwined in his consciousness: the roar of crowds revering a king.
"King Gilgamesh..." a soft, familiar voice whispered in his mind.
It was the voice of an elegant and intelligent woman who had devoted herself to supporting his reign in Uruk.
Pain struck his mind like a blade. His vision blurred, shifting between present and past, between the man he was now and humanity's oldest hero.
He saw a massive pyramid-like structure of layered floors, each smaller than the one beneath it.
At its summit stood his marble throne, the gleam of gold, and countless relics lined before him. His Gate of Babylon, overflowing with treasures.
The arrogant laughter that once dominated the world.
Part of Gilgamesh's emotions—his pride, his arrogance, and the pain of a man who watched his one true friend depart before his eyes—began to seep into Arthur's soul, only to dissolve into his being.
Enkidu.
The name struck him like a blow to the chest. A fleeting image—the serene face of an androgynous youth with a pure spirit—crossed his mind, and for a moment, Arthur almost smiled as well.
His vision flickered one final time before the memories stopped flowing, leaving behind only a new message:
[Memories Unlocked.]
[Access Granted: Abilities of the Wise King - Gilgamesh (Caster).]
[Warning: Mental instability detected. Prolonged rest recommended until consciousness stabilizes.]
Arthur took a deep breath as a strange smile formed on his lips.
"Damn… that explains a lot. Looks like I lived the same life twice, just in different ways."
He knew those memories could belong to no one but himself. Since childhood, he had always known he was different—a subtle feeling that could easily have been dismissed as adolescent delusion.
---xXx---
Back in the present...
On TV, a replay was airing of the moment Tony Stark revealed his secret identity as Iron Man to the world.
And Arthur?
Be a hero? A villain? An assassin? A king?
What nonsense.
He did not want to be a hero, much less a king of them.
He did not want to pose as some savior or ruler of humanity.
He was not—and never again wished to become—the despicable man he once had been. Two lifetimes of experience were enough for anyone to understand how unbearable it was to live as that kind of person.
Maybe only Siduri and Enkidu could truly tolerate my old self, Arthur laughed inwardly.
For him, it was enough to live comfortably, lie down without worries, and enjoy life beside the women he loved.
His curiosity about the future had led him to activate his Sha Naqba Imuru. Thanks to it, he saw many interesting things… and many tedious ones as well.
So, just as he had once done before, he chose to seal that ability away until the day it was truly needed.
He had quit his job as an NYPD self-defense instructor a few weeks earlier.
As for money? That was never a problem.
He had a natural talent for always making money, no matter what he did.
On top of that, he had begun writing books. His years of experience in the darker side of the world, combined with his memories, made excellent material for fantasy novels. He was not a bestselling author, but his works were quite successful.
In truth, his original plan had been to open a museum to display his countless treasures. But that would require work, and he had absolutely no patience for that—along with the inevitable idiotic government complications.
Not that he cared about such things. He simply preferred not to waste time dealing with problems so utterly pointless.
(End of Chapter)
A/N: I think these two chapters are enough to make it clear what kind of person Arthur is and how he became who he is today.
A/N: If you are expecting to literally see Gilgamesh Archer here, arrogant, egocentric, and selfish, you can give up. He is not that Gilgamesh.