Corpse Mover

The surroundings were terrifyingly quiet.

The kind of quiet where things had been bustling a moment ago, and the next second, you were the only survivor still breathing.

Xia Lin · Tolemo stood where he was, feeling like a clown who had just finished a one-man show and been left alone onstage. The lights were blinding, and the audience... oh right, the audience had apparently all kicked the bucket.

He slowly, very slowly, turned his neck, trying to loosen his somewhat stiff cervical vertebrae.

His gaze swept over the two corpses on the ground... no, the two piles of things that had once been called companions.

Bochi Iron Anvil, the loud-voiced, bearded Dwarf who was always complaining about the mines and his ex-wife, now lay sprawled on the cold stone floor like a ruptured blood bag. The congealed dark red blood in his beard was a horrifying sight.

Aila Starlight, the agile, sharp-tongued Half-elf who occasionally revealed her vulnerability when drunk, was curled up in a twisted pose. The horrifying hole in her abdomen was still faintly seeping fluid.

He shifted forward a step and, unfortunately, kicked the burlap sack.

"Clink."

The sound of money was always so pleasant, even when it was money stained with the warm blood of your teammates.

He looked down at this "processing fee."

[Item: Simple Space Bag (Crude Craftsmanship)]

[Capacity: Approximately 200 cubic meters (internal)]

[Contents: Silver Coins x20]

[Appraisal: An entry-level spatial storage item with crude workmanship. Even for low-level professionals, it is a rare item. Ironically, the money this shabby bag stained with your companions' blood could fetch on the black market would probably be enough to buy your three worthless lives ten times over. Friendly reminder: Do not flaunt your wealth.]

Xia Lin picked up the bag expressionlessly. It felt warm and had a satisfying weight.

"Does this count as... workplace injury compensation?" he muttered, trying to tug up the corners of his mouth, only to find his facial muscles somewhat stiff.

Forget it. If he couldn't smile, then he wouldn't.

He walked over to Bochi.

"Old Anvil, with a build like yours, you must've been sneaking plenty of food, huh?" Xia Lin muttered as he laboriously hoisted the Dwarf over his shoulder.

He was much heavier than expected, like carrying a freshly slaughtered hairy wild boar.

The Dwarf's beard brushed against Xia Lin's face, cold and prickly.

"That biggest, strongest mug of rye beer at Beauty and Flame... looks like I'll have to treat you next life."

One step, then another.

From the smooth black stone corridor, back into the foul-smelling, slick, muddy sewers.

From light to darkness, from cleanliness to filth.

The contrast was more thrilling than getting inside a Lizardfolk.

He set Bochi down, turned around, and went back for Aila.

When he picked her up, Xia Lin's movements were especially gentle.

Not because he cherished beauty, but mainly because he was afraid parts would fall all over the ground. Putting them back together would be too troublesome.

"You were so skilled. How did that thing manage to catch you off guard?" He sighed. "Could it really be that old saying? Big breasts... cough, slow reactions?"

The stench of blood and entrails hit him head-on.

Xia Lin frowned and held his breath.

"This smells worse than when you got drunk and threw up last time."

Xia Lin carried them back and forth like a diligent mover, except he was moving corpses.

Sweat soaked through his clothes, making them cling uncomfortably to his body.

He laid the two bodies side by side at the sewer entrance, found a broken wheelbarrow, and grunted as he loaded them onto it. Then he casually tore off a scrap of cloth of unknown use and covered them.

All done.

He leaned against the wall, gasping for breath, feeling as if his body had been hollowed out.

"If I'd known it would be this exhausting, I should've asked that Old Monster in Purple Robe whether the severance pay... included transport services."

Dawn was just breaking. Changhe City was like a slovenly man still recovering from a hangover, yawning as it slowly opened its eyes.

More and more people gradually appeared on the streets.

Xia Lin pushed the wheelbarrow through the crowd.

Its wheels rolled over the stone pavement, making a monotonous rumbling sound.

Dark red liquid seeped from beneath the edge of the straw mat, leaving winding trails across the cart bed and giving off a faint but unmistakable bloody smell that made anyone nearby frown.

Most passersby only cast brief glances his way.

They would glance at the wheelbarrow and the things covered atop it, then quickly look away, as though looking for even one second longer would bring bad luck upon them.

There was no fear on their faces, no pity, only the indifference of something they had grown accustomed to.

In this world, where a human life was often worth less than a sack of grain, death—especially the death of low-level adventurers—was merely an insignificant bit of noise in the city's daily operation.

"Well, if it isn't the young master of the Toremo family?" a sharp, mean voice rang out.

Xia Lin raised his head and saw a well-dressed man with a small mustache standing by the roadside with his arms folded, openly mocking him and his broken cart.

He was one of the drinking companions Xia Lin had once run around with before his family fell from grace.

"What, did you go scavenging in some back alley again yesterday? Tsk, tsk. This time you found two big ones..." The people around the man let out a low burst of laughter.

Xia Lin ignored them without pausing, pushing the cart forward step by step like a walking corpse.

No one came forward to ask questions, and no one offered sympathy.

They merely watched coldly as this former playboy, now like a street cleaner handling garbage, pushed his companions' corpses toward the city gate in disgrace.

The wasteland outside the city.

Xia Lin found an abandoned shovel and inspected it.

[Item: Rusty Shovel]

[Durability: 11/25]

[Kills: 1]

[Appraisal: This is a shovel with a story.]

"Not bad. It'll do."

He picked a spot and started digging.

His movements were mechanical and repetitive.

Dirt flew, and sweat dripped.

His thoughts were a mess. One moment, he heard the Dwarf's deafening complaints; the next, the Half-elf's icy sarcasm. Then came the hideous image of that pitch-black Strange Rat, followed by that purple robe...

Like an overcooked stew.

Once the pit was dug, he placed Bochi and Aila inside.

"The pit's a little small, so sorry, you two will have to squeeze together." Xia Lin patted the dirt from his hands. "When you reincarnate next life, remember to find somewhere roomier."

He began filling it in.

One shovelful, then another.

As he watched the earth gradually cover them, Xia Lin felt as if something inside him was being buried with them.

He stood leaning on the shovel before the freshly piled mound of dirt.

His shoulders trembled slightly, not from exhaustion, nor from cold.

He sniffed and raised a hand to wipe his face.

It was a little wet.

"Damn, the wind and sand are really strong," he muttered.

He remembered his life before transmigrating—comfortable, but boring.

He remembered his extravagance when he had first arrived here—stupid, but happy.

He remembered Bochi drunkenly hugging a pillar and crying out for his mining mule, Jenny.

He remembered the rare time Aila had been talkative, telling him about her awful ex-boyfriend.

He remembered the three of them, like three cockroaches, huddling together for warmth and struggling to survive in this damned world.

Then everything came to an abrupt end.

A rat, along with a mysterious woman who was probably the rat's Master, had casually ended it all as easily as crushing ants.

"Pretty lucky..."

That sentence echoed in his ears again, like a fine needle stabbing into his heart.

"Yeah, pretty lucky indeed." Xia Lin laughed softly, his voice hoarse and unpleasant. "I survived, got severance pay, and even got to dig graves for my teammates with my own hands... not everyone gets to enjoy such blessings."

He laughed louder, yet warm liquid slid down from the corners of his eyes.

"Weak..."

"Really... fucking weak..."

He did not roar. He merely stood there quietly, allowing that sense of powerlessness and humiliation to wrap around his heart like icy vines.

"Is this it?" he asked himself.

"Keep being cannon fodder at the bottom? If I'm lucky, I live a few more days. If I'm unlucky... I end up like them, turned into a mound of dirt in the wasteland?"

"And then what? Count on being 'pretty lucky' next time?"

He slowly raised his head and looked at the outline of Changhe City in the distance.

His gaze was terrifyingly calm.

"No."

The single word left his lips softly, yet it was like a nail driven into the earth beneath his feet.

"I've had enough."

He turned around, preparing to leave this place of sorrow.

Just then, his eyes suddenly burned.

"Again? Have my tear glands turned into a faucet today?"

He instinctively raised his hand to wipe them, only to find a familiar blue screen appearing before him.

The screen flickered and shifted, as though it were loading some new program.

[Name: Xia Lin · Tolemo]

[Race: Human]

[Class: None]

[Status: Physical Fatigue (Severe), Mental Fatigue (Moderate)]

[Attributes:]

[Strength: 8]

[Agility: 9]

[Constitution: 7]

[Intelligence: 14]

[Perception: 11]

[Charisma: 16]

[Skills:][Item Appraisal][Basic Swordsmanship][Arcane Pool 0/1]

[Equipment:]

[Weapon: Shortsword Close to Breaking (Durability: 21/50)]

[Armor: Leather Armor Falling Apart (Durability: 15/40), Leather Boots Worn Through (Durability: 8/30)]

[Accessory: Ring of Swift Wind]

[Item: Shovel Nearly Worn Out (Durability: 11/25)]

"...Attribute Panel?"