Ever feel like life forgot to give you a reason?
Everyone else is chasing something - careers, dreams, whatever - and you're just… there. Drifting. Studying for what? Working for what? The finish line's blurry, and the prize doesn't even look worth it.
Yeah, that was me.
Everyone else had a purpose. I had a cracked phone, pennies in my account, and an empty cup of ramen.
Some would call me a "shut-in" or "indoor enthusiast." Less polite people would refer to me as a waste of oxygen and a failure. But I liked to think of myself as a tactician in recluse. Sounds smarter, right? As if I chose this lifestyle. As if I wanted to spend my youth in a dim little apartment surrounded by glowing screens and empty caffeine cans.
Truth is... I flunked out of the world. Fell behind, lost the thread, and just sort of stopped trying to catch up.
I wasn't exactly depressed. Just... exhausted. Tired of people. Tired of pretending. Tired of running a race I never signed up for. Somewhere along the way, I found comfort in patterns - games, strategy, loops I could control. Anime, chess, webnovels. That was my trinity. Digital worlds that I could navigate as I pleased.
And ironically? I made just enough to survive by writing power fantasies for people who probably lived exactly like I did.
Yep, I was a writer.
Not the fancy kind with coffee shops and book signings. I was the kind that scraped petty revenue from serialised chapters about overpowered sword saints and necromancers with tragic pasts. I pumped out cliffhangers like my rent depended on it - because it did.
But at least in stories, things made sense. There were arcs. Risks. Payoffs. Plot armour.
Real life didn't even have a tutorial. If it had one, I certainly would have opted out.
I think my downward spiral started around the pandemic. Like a lot of people. Days started blending. Nights became mornings. And eventually, I just stopped opening the blinds altogether. Why bother?
My apartment - my "kingdom" - was a one-bedroom box filled with glowing monitors, the smell of instant noodles, and just enough existential dread to season the air. I had four chess games running on one screen, anime on another (today's choice: cute magical girls and a powerful MC who'd been isekai'd), and a blinking Word doc I hadn't touched in hours.
Title: Reincarnated as the Villain's Cat but Actually I'm the Real Protagonist.
Yeah, don't ask.
I hadn't typed a single word yet. But I was playing chess like my soul depended on it - moving pieces without hesitation, breathing in rhythm with the game. That's when life made sense. Every piece had a role. Every move mattered. Every action led somewhere.
Then came the pop-up.
'User "Knightmare420" has reported you for cheating.'
'Account under review.'
"Seriously?"
Fifth time this month.
I didn't cheat. I didn't have to. Some part of my brain just... clicked when it came to chess. Patterns snapped into place. I wasn't some genius - I could just apply myself better when the world was reduced to squares and strategy.
I leaned back in my chair. It creaked like it was just as ready to give up as I was.
A glance at the corner of my cramped apartment confirmed the worst - empty ramen stash.
"Damn it."
Eventually, biology overruled laziness. I pulled on a hoodie that might've been clean last week, slid into sandals hanging on by sheer willpower, and stepped outside for the first time in… what, a week?
The sun hit me like a frying pan.
"Agh! Too bright!"
I flinched as though the daylight physically hurt. I shuffled like a reanimated corpse toward the corner store, praying the sunlight wouldn't kill me before the existential dread did.
The cashier gave me the usual nod. I returned it.
We didn't need words. Just mutual exhaustion and shared apathy.
"Same as usual," I muttered.
A case of ramen cups and a random selection of off-brand energy drinks.
Bag in hand. Mission accomplished.
I stepped outside, victorious in the only way that mattered, standing patiently at the crossing for the green man. But this wasn't going to end like my usual convenience store runs.
There was a scream.
Sharp. Sudden. A child's voice.
Then a woman yelling.
And it was all over a bouncing ball.
I turned my head. A girl was chasing it into the road.
And then I saw the truck.
"Oh no," I said, voice flat. "I know this setup."
I'd written this scene before. Dozens of times. The classic 'Truck-kun special.' The all-powerful lord of isekais. Slayer of protagonists. Harbinger of new beginnings.
Sacrificing themselves for another, my characters were all reborn with all kinds of special gifts and cheats.
And now... I was in the position to save the child from the truck...
But who said I was going to do that?
I certainly wasn't the heroic type, and even without much to live for, I didn't feel like being run over for a random, stupid child.
'Should've held onto your ball properly or just let it go. But maybe you'll become a magic princess in your next life, kid.'
I was the closest to the kid, sure… but catching her in time? Yeah, no. That sounded like cardio.
I wrote fake heroes for a living - people who'd dive in front of bullets, punch deities, and rescue kittens from meteor strikes. But none of them were me.
Luckily, the little girl seemed perfectly capable of not dying without my help. Which suited me just fine.
I calmly watched as she tumbled to safety and the truck narrowly veered away.
But before I could even feel relieved, the truck began to drift uncontrollably as the driver struggled to reach a halt
'Why's it not stopping?!'
It swerved right towards me.
"Wait. Hold on-!"
I barely had time to flinch.
Headlights. Screeching tires. A blinding flash.
And then.
Boom!
It was like getting slammed by a freight train made of regret.
My bag flew open. Ramen and drink cans spiralled into the air like a tragic anime ending. My body hit the pavement. Hard.
Pain exploded across my chest. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
Everything slowed.
This was it.
This was how I died?
Not heroic. Not dramatic. Just a shut-in writer turned roadkill because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
I was merely a...
Pawn Who Got Pasted.
Figures.
I stared at the sky, blinking slowly as my vision dimmed. For the first time in years, I noticed how blue it was.
'Not a bad sky to die under, I guess.'
No one would miss me. No tearful goodbyes. No funeral speeches. Just a quiet deletion from a couple of discord servers and a missed rent payment.
'Maybe... maybe I'll get another shot. In a better world.'
'Preferably with magic. And less rent.'
'Give me a cheat skill or SSS Rank Special Trait. Anything.'
Then, right as the darkness took me, I heard it.
Not with my ears.
With something else.
Something deeper.
[Initialising System...]
[Welcome, King.]
[The game begins.]