The dim glow of the computer screen cast jagged shadows across Fang Ming's face as he slumped in his chair. His fingers dug into the armrests, knuckles whitening. Teeth gritted, he swallowed the scream clawing up his throat.
"Dammit!! It's all over now... I'm going to die. Definitely."
He let his head fall back against the chair, eyes shut. The hum of the computer fan filled the silence a pathetic requiem for his doomed life.
Memories flickered like a dying hologram:
Once, he'd been an ordinary corporate drone on Earth—9-to-5, paycheck to paycheck, but alive. Then, he'd blinked awake in this hellish new reality. Same name, different body: an eighteen-year-old with a frail sister, a father slaving as a mid-level manager, a mother scrubbing dishes in their cramped apartment.
But this wasn't Earth. Not anymore.Humanity had long since shattered planetary chains, conquering galaxies, warring with cosmic empires. The Zerg swarms loomed at the borders, ravenous and endless. And the "solution"? Schools scoured their worst-performing students discarding them like faulty ammunition shipping them off to die in the void. A pension for the family. A job for a sibling. A coffin lost in the dark.
"Stupid predecessor," Fang Ming hissed. "Why didn't you study, you idiot? Now I'm stuck dying in your place—"
Bzzzt.
The computer vibrated. An email notification flashed:
[THE MYRIAD REALMS GROUP CHAT HAS BEEN DETECTED.
DO YOU WANT TO JOIN?
YES / NO]
"Damn you! I'm about to get drafted into a meat grinder, and you want a group chat?!" He smashed NO. The screen didn't change. He stabbed YES in frustration.
A voice boomed—not from the speakers, but inside his skull:
[CONGRATULATIONS. TELEPORTING TO GROUP SPACE IN 3... 2... 1.]
Reality twisted. His vision splintered into static then black.
The Group Space
Cold metal pressed against Fang Ming's cheek as consciousness trickled back. He lurched upright, lungs burning. The room was an alien hexagon, walls shimmering with eerie green alloy. Five figures stood around him.
The closest a man in Taoist blue robes, a sword strapped to his back ,smiled and extended a hand. "Another newbie. Welcome."
Fang Ming didn't take it. His gaze darted across the others: two girls, two boys, all clad in flowing robes straight out of a wuxia drama. One girl clutched a jade pendant, her eyes wide with the same disoriented terror gnawing at him.
Before he could speak, the voice echoed again this time, from the walls themselves:
[INITIATION COMMENCES.]
The Taoist's smile turned razor-sharp. "Hope you're ready to die newcomer.