Death is supposed to be permanent.
I've died three times now, and each time I wake up back in this same bed, in this same crappy inn room, with the same terrible certainty that I'm about to watch it all happen again.
The first time, I was Lucky Kim. Twenty-eight, office worker, spent too much time reading web novels instead of living my actual life. I was reading *Dominion's Fall* when a truck ran a red light. One moment I was following the hero's latest "heroic sacrifice," the next I was waking up as Lucky Fadeworth in the world I'd been reading about.
At first, I thought it was some kind of miracle. A second chance at life in a fantasy world. Then I remembered what happens to Lucky Fadeworth in the story.
Lucky Fadeworth was nobody important. A background character who dies in chapter twelve when the Hero uses his Divine Judgment spell to kill a demon in the marketplace. The spell works perfectly—one dead demon. It also levels half the market district and kills two hundred civilians.
I tried to change it. I really did. I stayed away from the market that day, hid in my room, thought I was safe.
I woke up the next morning back in this bed.
The second time, I avoided the market entirely. Made it three months, actually felt proud of myself. Then the Saintess decided the harbor was "tainted" and needed purification. Ten thousand gallons of holy water dumped into the district. Turns out holy water is toxic to anyone who isn't perfectly pure. Nobody is perfectly pure.
I drowned choking on sanctified water.
The third time, I lasted six months. I'd learned to avoid the heroes entirely, kept my head down, tried to live quietly. Then the Genius Mage decided to "safely" dispose of a cursed artifact by teleporting it to an "empty" dimension. The dimension wasn't empty. The explosion took out a quarter of the capital.
As I felt my body disintegrating for the third time, I understood something that the novel never made clear: these weren't tragic accidents or necessary sacrifices. These were the inevitable results of giving people with god-like power no accountability for the consequences.
And now I'm here again. Same room, same date, one week before the marketplace incident. But this time feels different.
This time, my body aches like I've been torn apart and put back together. Every muscle screams when I move. My head pounds with a rhythm that feels alien. And there's something else—a presence in my mind that wasn't there before.
I sit up slowly, wincing. The morning light filtering through the dirty window looks the same as always, but something fundamental has changed.
That's when I hear it—a voice that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere.
*[World Guardian System Activated]*
I freeze. The voice continues, clinical and detached.
*[Host: Lucky Fadeworth - Attempt #4]*
*[Mission: The world is dying. The heroes are accelerating its destruction. Stop them.]*
*[Analysis: Previous attempts at passive avoidance have failed. Active intervention required.]*
*[Class Assignment: Shepherd]*
I stare at the ceiling, trying to process what I'm hearing. A system. Like in the web novels I used to read. But this isn't some power fantasy—this is something that knows I've died three times and apparently expects me to do something about it.
"Shepherd," I say aloud, testing the word. In this world, Shepherds are considered the weakest class. They tend livestock, provide minor support to adventuring parties, maybe manage a small farm if they're lucky.
*[Correct. The weakest class in conventional understanding.]*
*[Incorrect. The most important class for the task ahead.]*
The system doesn't elaborate. I get dressed slowly, my mind trying to make sense of everything. Three deaths have taught me that in this world, the heroes cause more destruction than the demons they fight. The demons want to destroy things, but they're direct about it. The heroes want to save everything, and somehow that makes them more dangerous.
I splash water on my face from the washbasin and look in the cracked mirror. Same unremarkable face, brown hair, brown eyes. But now there's a faint silver glow around my pupils that definitely wasn't there before.
*[System integration marker. Only visible to other system users.]*
"How many others are there?"
*[You are the current active user.]*
Not an answer, but I don't push. I have bigger problems. Today is the Awakening Ceremony, where everyone in the village will watch me receive the Shepherd class and become the subject of pity and dismissal. Tomorrow, Hero Gareth Lightbane arrives in town and begins preparations for the demon hunt that destroys half the marketplace.
I need to figure out how to stop him. A nobody with the weakest class in the system, trying to prevent a Hero from making his greatest "heroic" mistake.
*[Correction: You are not nobody. You are a Shepherd. You simply do not understand what that means yet.]*
There's something ominous in that statement, but the voice falls silent, leaving me with nothing but questions and the growing certainty that my understanding of this world is about to change completely.