Transmigration

A gloomy sky shrouded the entire city. Pedestrians could be seen walking everywhere on the streets, and a pungent odor permeated the air, yet the passersby showed no reaction to it whatsoever.

People walked through the streets and alleys in a stupor. No one spoke; despite the crowd, it was terrifyingly quiet.

"Cough, cough!"

Naiyuan wove through the crowd. Trash was scattered everywhere across the dilapidated streets, and the foul stench constantly assaulted him, forcing him to cough.

His emaciated frame and bloodless face made it seem as though he might collapse at any moment—after all, such things happened every day.

Clutching the half-price bento he had managed to snatch from the supermarket, Naiyuan quickened his pace. The smell continued to torment his body, and he needed to get home as soon as possible. After passing through the densely populated streets, a run-down apartment building came into view; that was his destination.

He walked quickly to the apartment entrance and turned to look at the door next to his. That was his neighbor, and also one of his few friends. He knocked on the door a few times, but there was no response.

"Working overtime again?"

After a brief wait, seeing that no one came to open the door, Naiyuan sighed and returned to his own home. It seemed the other person had been exploited and kept behind for overtime again.

The layout of the room was simple: just a bed, a toilet, and a conspicuous helmet. There was nothing else, save for a shared washing machine outside.

There was no kitchen, because for someone like him who worked insane amounts of overtime, a kitchen was completely unnecessary. He had specifically chosen this apartment to save on rent.

"Whew!"

Naiyuan took a deep breath. Although the air inside the room still carried a faint odor, it was much better than outside; at least it didn't make him feel dizzy.

"I hope I didn't bet wrong this time, otherwise there really won't be any way out."

As he meticulously washed the skin exposed to the air, Naiyuan sighed. The air outside was filled with large amounts of toxic gases and dust, and prolonged exposure caused great harm to the body. To ensure he didn't just collapse one day without knowing why, he had to wipe himself down immediately.

He could have bought a gas mask, but he didn't. Every cent he earned from his grueling work and overtime was poured into a game called Yggdrasil, leaving only the bare minimum required for survival.

Fortunately, his workplace was equipped with air purifiers, so aside from the discomfort during his commute, he was generally fine.

Sitting on the bed, Naiyuan slowly opened the lid of his bento and began to chew his dinner slowly. A faint smile appeared on his face; only at times like this did he feel like he was still alive.

This world was not an apocalypse, yet it was just like one.

This was his most honest thought after all these years.

The world had been polluted. Because of the outbreak of war, humanity had finally reaped what it sowed. The air was filled with toxic gases, the rivers had become murky and foul-smelling, and the earth was no longer suitable for growing crops.

When people finally looked back, they realized it was already too late to change anything. Now, even breathing a mouthful of fresh air had become a luxury. War had lost its meaning; no hatred could take precedence over survival.

The green of plants had vanished from the eyes of the world, animals had died in droves due to the environment, prices were skyrocketing, and criminal incidents occurred frequently. Those high-and-mighty entrepreneurs constantly squeezed everything they could out of ordinary people.

They knew how to maintain a balance: on one hand, they constantly fed people visions of an illusory future, and on the other, they instilled in them a reality called numbness. By the time people realized it, it was already too late, because in their despair, they found they had grown accustomed to it. They didn't want to resist, didn't want to think, and just spent their days drifting along.

As Naiyuan ate the now-cold bento in his hands, he looked at the calendar hanging on the wall. There were many dates circled and marked in red ink—these were the times for various events in the game. Fearing he might forget to log in, Naiyuan had marked them all on the calendar.

A large, bold X was marked on the date for the day after tomorrow, signifying its importance.

He had been transmigrated into this world for 28 years. The memories of his past life had become blurry; he didn't know why he had transmigrated, only remembering that he had been playing a certain game, cursed the developers a few times, and then lost consciousness.

When he woke up again, he had become an infant, abandoned in a small alley to fend for himself. Fortunately, driven by the instinct to survive, he kept crying out, successfully drawing attention to himself and avoiding the achievement of "death upon arrival."

The person who adopted him was a middle-aged man. After growing up, he learned from asking that the man's wife had cheated on him. When he returned home, the two were "playing poker" in his bed. The other man noticed him return but didn't bother to hide it; instead, he seemed even more excited.

The man hadn't taken him seriously at all. Afterward, he casually tossed him a card and left with his wife. His wife hadn't looked at him once the entire time—perhaps out of shame, or perhaps out of disdain.

He hadn't raised a hand throughout the ordeal, just watched their departing backs with numbness. A few years earlier, he might have been furious, cursing the other man for his shamelessness and throwing a punch, but now, that impulse was gone. Upon checking the balance on the card left behind, he even felt a trace of secret joy. Perhaps it was because they knew he wouldn't fight back that they had acted so recklessly.

That night, in an alley filled with a foul stench, the man walked unsteadily, chugging beer from a can. He wandered aimlessly, his heart filled with complex emotions, until the sound of Naiyuan caught his attention. He stumbled over, and looking at the abandoned child before him, a sense of shared misery welled up in his heart.

"Are you abandoned just like me? Don't be afraid, I'll take you home."

As if he had found a kindred spirit, the man tossed away his beer bottle and tremblingly picked up the child. Looking at the baby in his arms, who was staring at him with wide eyes and a smile, the restless emotions in his heart seemed to fade away, and a faint smile couldn't help but appear on his haggard face.

On the very first day of his transmigration, he had been adopted under the gaze of fate. The man's name was Shangluo Yayoi, so he was named Shangluo Naiyuan.

As if he had found hope and a purpose in life, Shangluo Yayoi changed his personality, throwing himself into his work with newfound positivity. He was no longer living just for himself. In this atmosphere, time slipped away quietly, and in the blink of an eye, over a decade had passed.

When Naiyuan was 12, Shangluo Yayoi passed away. Long hours of work and overtime had pushed the man's body to its limit. In truth, he had money, but he never wanted to use that specific card. Even at the very end, Naiyuan remembered the smile on his face.

"Naiyuan, my life was a tragedy. My wife's betrayal, the exploitation of society, the mockery of friends and relatives—I experienced it all. But the only thing that made me feel truly alive was your appearance. The best decision I ever made in my life was adopting you."

"Don't be sad or upset. I have no regrets in my life. I kept this card my whole life; if you spend it sparingly, it should be enough to keep you well-fed and clothed for the rest of your days. Now, I give it to you. Naiyuan, my child, you must live happily."

Recalling the images in his mind, Naiyuan's expression was complex. There was no doubt that the man was a qualified father; he had cared for him wholeheartedly for over a decade and, in the end, had even set aside his dignity to give him that card.

"Father, I will definitely live a good life!"