"Thanks for your patronage, visit again!" the shopkeeper said. Her voice was smooth as silk, the kind that made customers turn their heads even after they had already walked out.
I didn't bother replying. Just hummed, almost a grunt, and pushed the glass door open.
The day had drained me. No—scratch that—the whole year had drained me. Today's exam was the final boss. Mathematics. A subject I had never been on good terms with. It wasn't the sort of monster no human could beat, but for someone like me? Average at best? It was a wall high enough to bruise your face against, again and again.
The past year had been torture. A relentless cycle of projects that never ended, surprise tests that appeared like cursed rainclouds every other week, and the looming threat of monthly exams, over and over. There had been no pause button. Not a second to breathe.
But at last, finally, the nightmare was over.
I stepped out into the night air, lifting the plastic bag in my hand. My eyes fell on what was inside—thick volumes of manga, wrapped neatly, their glossy covers catching the faint streetlight. My chest warmed. These were the reward. The series I had abandoned for an entire year had finally reached its conclusion, and now that exams were finished, I could sit down and read.
I couldn't help it. A grin stretched across my face. The wait had been worth it.
The door shut behind me with a soft click. The world outside was darker than I expected.
The sun was gone, drowned hours ago. Above stretched a sky painted in black, dotted faintly with stars. The moon was full tonight, its pale light shimmering across rooftops and asphalt, washing the street in a quiet silver glow.
I raised my wrist. My watch ticked back at me. Ten o'clock.
I groaned. "Great. Mom's gonna kill me."
The last time I came home late, she hadn't even unlocked the door. I had been left outside until sunrise, sitting there like a stray cat on the steps, listening to the night drag on. And even when I finally got inside, I was treated like a stranger the entire next day. Cold silence, not a word spoken. That had been for spending time at the game center.
Tonight, though… surely I had an excuse. Exams were done. The hell was I supposed to do, sprint home without celebrating?
Still, I wasn't too sure she'd see it my way.
I picked up my pace, strides lengthening, the plastic bag swinging against my leg with each hurried step.
Then the night cracked open.
Honk! Honk!
The blaring horn of a truck tore through the silence. I froze mid-step, blinking as headlights split the road ahead. A massive truck thundered past me, the roar of its engine shaking the ground beneath me.
"Shit…" My breath caught.
The truck-kun passed just from front of me, increasing my heartbeats to no end.
This wasn't just a truck. On its trailer sat a huge cylindrical tank, the kind that carried petroleum. The thing wobbled with each bounce of the wheels, threatening to tip.
The road itself made it worse: a sharp turn lay just ahead, the kind that could throw a heavy vehicle off balance if the driver misjudged it even slightly. The curve was tight, the asphalt cracked, potholes hidden in the shadows, forcing every vehicle to slow—or risk disaster.
The driver fought with the wheel like his life depended on it. Maybe it did.
Instinct snapped me into motion. I darted across the street, lungs burning, every nerve screaming to move faster. Fifty steps. Sixty, maybe. I stopped finally, bending forward, hands on my knees.
I sucked in the cold night air, telling myself it was enough distance.
Safe.
Or so I thought.
From the corner of my eye, more headlights cut into view. Another vehicle. A sleek car tore down the same sharp bend, engine roaring, tires spitting sparks. My eyes widened. For a heartbeat I imagined the crash—metal twisting, fuel igniting, everything exploding into a fireball.
Instead, the car screeched into a drift. Its tires shrieked against the pavement as it slid around the curve, brushing past the swaying truck by inches.
A stunt straight out of a racing movie. Ridiculous, reckless—but somehow it worked.
The truck slowed, shuddering, its driver screaming curses into the night, probably a little drunken.
The car straightened, lowering its speed as though mocking the chaos it had just danced through.
I let out the breath I'd been holding, chest loosening. "Damn. That was crazy."
A grin tugged at my lips.
"Not lucky enough tonight, Truck-kun. I'm not falling for such a cliché trap."
I snickered at my own words, puffed my chest, and muttered, "I, great Emperor Felix, shall not bow before such cheap tricks of fate."
Stupid? Yeah. But it made me feel better.
I turned, refocusing on home. On the bag of manga waiting to be opened—
Screech!
The sound ripped the air apart. I spun around, stomach twisting.
Headlights. Again. Bearing straight down on me.
The same car. The one that had just survived the drift. Only now it wasn't swerving away from disaster. It was pointed directly at me, engine howling, tires screaming as rubber tore against the road.
My eyes went wide. My legs wouldn't move.
Bang!
The impact hit like a wall. My body jolted, my vision spiraled, flipping, blurring, breaking apart. My chest convulsed with pain, blood roaring through my ears.
I gasped, the word tearing itself from my throat, bitter and sharp.
"Asshole…"
Then the world slipped from me.