Honestly, I've never had high expectations for life. Seriously, looking at human history, where there have been countless wars involving small children, I should be grateful I wasn't born during World War II or another major conflict.
My name is Peter Markus Crane, or rather, I used to be, but I'll tell you more about that later.
In any case, I'll emphasize right away that I didn't die because of Truck-kun. Jesus Christ, how stupid that sounds.
Getting back to the point, if I had to describe my life on Earth in one word, it would be "Predictable."
Don't get me wrong, I like knowing what to expect from life.
I was lucky enough to be born the second son in my family. My parents didn't put so much pressure on me to study, so I could focus on my interests, like reading comics, manga, manhwa, or light novels.
School wasn't particularly good, but it wasn't a disaster either.
Okay, okay, I won't bore you with my past life anymore, I'll just get straight to the point. After all, you don't give a damn about my grades in school or...
Hmmm... How did I actually die? Jesus, it was so long ago that I don't remember all the details. It started when my older brother, Jim, came to my house. I lived in a rather secluded area in the countryside, where only four families lived besides me, so I didn't lock the door during the day, so there was nothing stopping James from coming into my house as if it were his own. This made me a little nervous, but I didn't say anything.
After James settled in at the table and I handed him a cup of coffee, he said something that surprised me.
"Skydiving?" I said, raising my eyebrows in dismay.
My 24th birthday was approaching, and James said he wanted to do something special for mine. You know what I said to him?
"Are you crazy?! NO WAY! You know I'm afraid of heights!" Truthfully, this fear of heights was nonsense. I just didn't feel the need to skydive.
"Come on, Pete. It'll be fun." My brother persisted. "I already bought us both a skydive, so there's no point in talking about it."
I sighed in defeat. I rubbed my temples irritably, as if I had a headache.
"Let's be honest, Jim," I said finally, looking my brother straight in the eye. "What do you need me for? You could jump yourself."
"But you have to admit, it's always more fun with two people," I said with a fake smile, making me frown when I realized what was really going on.
"Just admit that Amanda didn't want to go with you."
"Ugh, ugh." Leave my wife out of this, Pete!" Jim looked like he was about to argue with me, but when he looked into my eyes, which were bored and angry, he immediately changed his mind. "Okay, I admit it. But Pete, tell me honestly: Wouldn't you like to feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins again?
Actually, if you think about it, he was right. I worked at the post office and rarely felt anything interesting happening there.
It didn't take long for James to finally agree.
A few days later. It was probably mid-May, I went by car with Jim for my first ever skydive. As it later turned out, it was my last skydive.
...
The sky that day was clearer than usual. Cloudless, stretched over the world like a flawless canvas, waiting for the first brushstroke. I looked up with a gloomy gaze, always wanting to feel what it was like to fly. Jim stood next to me, incredibly excited and a little nervous.
"Ready?" Jim asked me, peering at me through his goggles.
"I hate you, you bastard!" I replied with that calm smile of mine that usually preceded something stupid or daring. It was both.
The jump was supposed to be a gift, but I felt like I was going to the gallows. I knew one thing in that moment: We would remember this moment for years. Damn it, I was so wrong then.
When we jumped, tragedy struck in seconds. The jolt, the sound of tearing fabric, Jim's scream as he was drowned in the wind. My damn parachute didn't open.
Time slowed down. I felt no fear. I felt irritated. Of all the people in the world, a parachute didn't open while I was jumping?! Unbelievable. Even I'm surprised at my shitty luck.
Well... I had no choice but to accept the situation.
And then... darkness.
But that wasn't the end.
It was only the beginning.
Holy shit.
Looking back on it now, after all these years, I hope Jim didn't blame himself for my death... Although, I've actually changed my mind. Let him blame himself: it was all his fault and that damn parachute.
Who would have thought that because my parachute didn't open, I'd have to live in a hell of monsters and beauties in a fantasy world?