Damn! I Want to Leave the Group!

"Unbelievable. I wrote this so well, yet I only have fifty-six subscriptions. This is absurd!"

Wang Ping stared at the author dashboard on his computer, looking at the measly fifty-six initial subscriptions, feeling utterly exasperated.

He, Wang Ping, was just as his name suggested: his entire life had been utterly mediocre.

He finished nine years of compulsory education, then attended a vocational college.

After graduation, he had worked as a waiter and tightened screws on an assembly line.

His girlfriend had left him for someone else, complaining that he lacked both ability and ambition.

This had left him feeling depressed and unfulfilled, leading him to immerse himself in the world of novels.

Whenever he saw an author "poisoning" the plot, he would grumble about whether that author even knew how to write.

Then, hearing others say that writing novels was lucrative, he figured that since he had read novels for so many years, writing one should be as easy as breathing.

And then, there was no "then."

From being unable to squeeze out a single word at the start to finally being able to write with some fluency, he had spent an untold amount of energy.

However, after his first book went live, the initial subscription count was in the single digits, nearly causing him to have a breakdown.

This second book, while much better than the first, was still enough to make him despair.

Most importantly, he no longer had the money to hole up in his rented room and write full-time.

"Sigh, as expected, no industry is easy."

Wang Ping looked at the instant noodle cups scattered across his messy computer desk, took a drag of his cigarette, and let out a deep sigh, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

He was twenty-five now, and he had no idea how he was going to live the rest of his life.

At twenty-five, with zero savings and being an orphan, there was likely no hope for marriage.

If he were to fall ill, it would be the end of the world.

"This Earth Online is truly a piece of trash; not worth playing!"

Wang Ping spat out a ring of smoke, muttering in frustration.

"Ding, Transmigrator Chat Group invites you to join. Do you wish to join immediately?"

Just then, a mechanical voice suddenly rang out in Wang Ping's mind.

Then, a pale blue virtual screen appeared before his eyes.

On it were the options "Yes" and "No."

"!!!"

This snapped Wang Ping back to reality, and he couldn't help but rub his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating or hearing things.

However, after rubbing his eyes several times and finding that the pale blue screen had not disappeared, he couldn't help but grow excited.

"A chat group!?"

"So, I am also a winner in life with a Golden Finger! It's just that this Golden Finger arrived many years late."

Wang Ping rubbed his hands together in excitement.

Come to think of it, many novel protagonists were mediocre, only to obtain a Golden Finger during their lowest point, soaring to the peak of life from then on.

He figured he was in the same situation.

However, the chat group trope was considered a somewhat outdated Golden Finger in the current web novel scene.

Moreover, chat groups were usually group-based Golden Fingers, not individual ones.

If it were a harmonious chat group where everyone helped each other, that would be wonderful.

If it were one filled with schemes and infighting, that would be very troublesome.

"Whatever, even if it's a dark-style chat group, as long as I keep a low profile and lower my desires, it shouldn't be a big problem."

Wang Ping muttered to himself.

The world he lived in was just an ordinary world; he could rely on the chat group to make his body stronger, earn some money, and enjoy life.

That's right, even after joining the chat group, he only wanted to live a relatively wealthy, happy, and peaceful life.

While this might lack ambition, it was still many times better than his previous days.

Of course, this was assuming he joined a group with a bad atmosphere; if the atmosphere were excellent, he might still fantasize about extraordinary powers and immortality.

As these thoughts surged, Wang Ping chose "Yes."

"Ding, congratulations on joining the Transmigrator Chat Group. The transmigration will begin in half an hour. Please prepare yourself mentally."

The system's voice sounded, leaving Wang Ping stunned.

"Transmigration? What the hell is this?"

While Wang Ping was dazed, new messages appeared in the chat group.

"Ding, congratulations to member No. 66, Wang Ping, for joining the Transmigrator Chat Group."

"Ding, congratulations to member No. 67, Chen Kang, for joining the Transmigrator Chat Group."

With the appearance of these two group messages, the chat became lively.

Wu Jun (20): "Huh, two newcomers at once? Welcome, welcome!"

Liu Mei (15): "Two more poor souls? How truly pitiful."

Zhang Hu (5): "A moment of silence. I wonder if these two can survive."

Fang Yun (3): "It's tough. Out of the last ten newcomers, not a single one survived. It's tragic."

"???"

Watching the conversation in the Transmigrator Chat Group, Wang Ping was a bit bewildered.

Huh!?

What did these group members mean? Did people die in this group often?

Just as Wang Ping was about to speak, the other newcomer beat him to it.

Chen Kang (67): "Respected Transmigrator Senior, what do you mean by saying the last ten newcomers all died!? This group, surely it isn't a trap, right! Panic.jpg."

Fang Yun: "Heh, you catch on fast. You realized this is a Transmigrator Chat Group, hence why you call us Transmigrator Senior. Just as you said, this group is indeed a trap, and a bottomless one at that."

Chen Kang (67): "."

Wang Ping (66): "."

Zhang Hu (5): "You can tell our order of entry by the numbers after our names. Now, look at the group member list and see how many people are left."

Following Zhang Hu's words, Wang Ping hurriedly looked at the group list.

Then, he saw a scene that made his scalp tingle.

Group members 7/67.

A long string of blacked-out avatars and names.

Did this not mean that out of the sixty-five members who had joined previously, only five were still alive?

This mortality rate was absurdly high!

For a moment, Wang Ping felt numb, and feelings of terror began to grow wildly.

He had thought his Golden Finger had arrived, but who would have imagined it was actually a Life-Reaping Talisman.

Wang Ping (66): ".Is it too late for me to leave the group now?"

Chen Kang (67): ".+1 to the person above."

Liu Mei (15): "Heh, that won't work. Once you enter the group, there is no turning back. I suggest that instead of panicking, you prepare for the transmigration in half an hour. That way, your survival rate might be slightly higher. Of course, only just a little bit."

Wang Ping: ".Why do you say that?"

Liu Mei (15): "The transmigration you're imagining is probably a soul-transmigration into a decent family, or at the very least, the classic orphan start."

Chen Kang (67): "Isn't that how it works?"

Liu Mei: "Heh, of course not. The real start is this chat group randomly selecting a world and tossing you into it. In other words, your identity is completely undocumented. To the people of that other world, you are just an alien with strange clothes and perhaps even a different language. I don't need to tell you what the consequences will be."