Tsk tsk. Who’d have thought that even nowadays, you’d still meet some poor soul crushed to death by a falling dog?
The residential road was packed tight with onlookers.
Police had already cordoned off the scene.
The accident’s victims: a young man and a large dog barely clinging to life.
Their collision was pure tragedy.
A freak accident—something dropped from above.
Nothing more.
...
Inside the pitch-black void,
Mulan faintly realized he was done for.
His mind wavered between hope and despair.
Looking back, his life had been drifting—eating, waiting, surviving. Just like any ordinary person, with nothing to be proud of.
Now? Crushed by a falling dog. A hollow, ironic end.
“Damn it… what kind of joke is this?”
Mulan—a fresh-out-of-college corporate drone.
Raised in an orphanage.
The old director was the only one who ever showed him warmth.
He’d dreamed university would lead to greatness.
Turns out life was just a shitty game with broken mechanics.
Still, he wasn’t hopeless.
Even trash games hide reasons to keep playing.
Three joys kept him going: eating, sleeping, slacking off.
A “meh” attitude made most worries fade.
He thought he could keep drifting…
But it was over.
The more he dwelled, the hotter his anger burned.
“Damn it! Why me?!”
He was on the verge of tears, utterly helpless.
At life’s end, strange reflections surfaced.
Was this the moment to ponder emptiness?
This death held no meaning.
Then—a voice, sweet as a skylark’s song, cut through the darkness.
“Well, you were just unlucky. Humans are fragile. One accident, and poof—life’s gone.”
“Who’s there?!”
Mulan jolted. A living voice after death?
…Or not living at all.
This lightless void—was it the underworld? Some mystical afterlife? Unbelievable.
Confusion flooded his mind.
*Was that… the Grim Reaper?*
The voice sounded cute.
*Maybe a black-stockinged beauty in a cloak, scythe in hand…*
If so, he might actually follow her.
“Your imagination really runs wild,” the voice teased.
A blinding light flared.
A slender girl emerged.
Pink hair cascaded like a shimmering waterfall.
Azure eyes held the depth of an endless sky.
Flawless skin. Features carved with divine precision.
Even her simple dress couldn’t hide her noble grace.
A beauty too perfect for reality.
Mulan froze. Brain overheating.
“Uh… miss? What’s your job?”
She smiled—a bloom of breathtaking elegance.
“If I said I was the Grim Reaper… would you come with me?”
“Huh… wait?”
*No way. Is she real?*
Some fans would probably off themselves just to escape this shitty Earth Online with her.
At least a scary Reaper would make death feel… respectful.
She shifted tone lightly.
“Kidding. I’m not the Reaper. Won’t take your soul. But yes—I’m here for you. Surprised?”
Mulan slightly furrowed his brow. “Why me? I’m dead. Dead people have no value.”
He stayed clear-headed. What really unsettled him: *What if death isn’t the end?*
“That’s it—you’re unlucky, yet lucky. Tell me… do you want to live again?”
Her words dripped with allure.
“Huh? Live again? Seriously?”
Of course he didn’t want to turn to dust yet.
Death might tempt some—but not normal people.
And Mulan was normal.
Even if life was a steaming pile of trash, it wasn’t *quit-the-game* bad.
“For others, death is final. Not for you.”
She floated closer, effortlessly graceful.
Her lively tone felt like chatting with an old friend.
*An illusion?*
She circled him once, then gently lifted his chin with slender fingers.
“But~ it’s not free. You’ll go to a new world. Fix the mess I left during my careless days. Complete it, and you’re free to enjoy your new life.”
Mulan tensed. “Another world? Dangerous?”
“Mm~ A little. But I’ll give you power and reliable support. Don’t go looking for trouble, and you’ll clear it smoothly.”
He had more questions—too many mysteries.
But she just patted his shoulder, urging him on.
“Alright, young man! Go enjoy your new life. I’ll send all answers straight to your mind.”
“Wait… huh?”
No choice. His old life was dust.
This chance? He’d grab it tight.
“Let’s begin. I’m ready.”
Nine-tenths? Ten-tenths anticipation.
The trash-game life was over.
Now—pray for a masterpiece.
She smiled, pleased.
“Good spirit! First, I’ll reshape your body to survive the new world. Any requests?”
“Whatever. Just keep me human… and not ugly.”
His mood lifted—radiant, eager.
Anticipation drowned out doubts.
“Mm~” A subtle smirk played on her lips.
“I’ll go with my taste. I prefer refined looks.”
*Wait… seriously?*
Not that he’d refuse.
How could anyone say no to becoming a stunningly handsome youth?
In another world, good looks meant smooth sailing.
Power + charm = the true Long Aotian standard.
She chuckled softly.
No more words needed.
“Then… safe travels.”
Darkness swallowed his vision.
Mulan slipped into unconsciousness.
