Ring!
The loud, persistent noise echoed throughout the room, reverberating off the walls and spilling out into the fresh morning air. Outside, the sun was beginning to rise on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow that illuminated everything in its path.
Birds took flight in joyous flocks, their cheerful songs mingling with the lingering echoes from within, creating a symphony of morning sounds. Above, fluffy clouds drifted lazily across the sky, painting a picturesque backdrop to the awakening world.
Ring!
The alarm cut through the silence again, and a gentle breeze wafted in through the window, causing the curtains to flutter gracefully as they welcomed the fresh air of a new day.
Then, an oppressive stillness settled over the room as the ringing finally ceased. Despite its ordinary appearance, the apartment carried a subtle undertone of neglect — the walls were worn, many clad in peeling wallpaper that hung limply as if weary from years of disregard.
Every item and piece of furniture had clearly been chosen for its low cost rather than quality or aesthetic appeal. The mismatched furnishings, some bearing the scars of heavy use, painted a vivid picture of a life lived on the edge of financial strain.
A door opened, revealing a young man standing in the threshold. His tired eyes were framed by dark circles that hinted at sleepless nights, and the faint grayness of his complexion spoke of overwhelming fatigue. The expression on his face was one of clear irritation, as if the world had conspired to test his patience one more time. He seemed to carry the weight of his frustrations on his shoulders.
"Yes! Hello, this is the team leader of the marketing department speaking. How can I assist you today?"
His voice was laced with irritation. He felt as though he had been yanked from a deep, restful slumber and longed for nothing more than to drift back into it.
"Team leader, I sincerely apologize for interrupting your day off, but the marketing team is currently facing a crisis." The voice on the other end was laced with panic. The urgency was impossible to ignore.
"Ohh." He paused.
Silence.
"That's an issue for you to address, not me," he replied flatly.
With a sigh, he made his way to the kitchen, movements sluggish and lethargic, and began heating a cup of noodles — hoping the warm, simple meal would bring some small comfort to his weary state.
Still holding the phone, he said, "Fine. Be there in a moment," glancing at the clock as time slipped away.
"Thank you, Team Leader Ling!" The call ended.
He set his phone aside, picked up his chopsticks, and began to eat, savoring each slurp as the bland flavors settled on his palate. Once finished, he washed his hands, tidied the table, and showered. He then changed into a well-tailored suit, carefully adjusting his tie and smoothing out the wrinkles in his attire.
Feeling a semblance of readiness, he stepped outside into the fresh air and called a taxi. Once the cab arrived, he climbed in and pulled out his phone. The group chat he was part of was in total chaos — messages flying back and forth as everyone scrambled over some urgent matter.
As he stepped out of the taxi and made his way into the bustling station, his eyes landed on an elderly woman clearly struggling with her bags. The sight tugged at something in him. Drawing closer, he recognized her — Miss Chan, a former neighbor and a familiar source of warmth in the community.
"Oh, hello there, Miss Chan! It's so nice to see you again. Let me help you with those bags," he said, his voice gentle and patient.
Miss Chan looked up, pleasantly surprised. A warm smile spread across her face. "Thank you, Ling Hao. You are such a kind young man," she remarked, genuinely touched by his gesture.
Ling Hao returned her gratitude with a shy, sincere smile, his cheeks faintly flushed, and the two made their way toward the train together.
Once Miss Chan had settled comfortably into her seat, Ling Hao stood nearby, occasionally glancing down at his phone, lost in thought. The train jerked into motion, causing him to momentarily lose his balance — and it was then that a large, imposing man shoved his way toward Miss Chan.
"Move, old hag! Let me sit there!" he barked, towering over her tiny frame with a voice both grating and aggressive.
A chill swept through the carriage. Ling Hao shot the man a piercing glare.
"What's wrong with you? Just because you're young doesn't give you the right to push around your elders," another passenger muttered.
The man scoffed, arrogance dripping from his tone. "Why don't you let someone young like me have a seat?" He crossed his arms defiantly, clearly savoring the confrontation.
Ling Hao stepped forward. "You think being young gives you the right to disrespect someone who deserves nothing but courtesy? You should be ashamed of yourself," he said, his voice steady and firm.
The tension in the carriage thickened. Other passengers shifted in their seats, watching.
The man's expression darkened. A madness flickered behind his eyes as he reached into his pocket and drew out a gleaming knife, its blade catching the dim light.
"I've had a bad day," he muttered, almost to himself. "I lost everything." His gaze drifted toward Miss Chan, who shrank back in her seat, eyes wide with fear.
Ling Hao moved without thinking. He delivered a powerful kick to the man's midsection, the impact catching him off guard and loosening his grip on the knife. Nearby passengers surged forward, grabbing at the man's arms, attempting to wrestle the weapon free. For a moment, it seemed like the knife had been knocked away entirely.
Then came the laughter — hollow, deranged, echoing through the cramped carriage like something broken. The man had retrieved the knife. His wild eyes swept across the terrified passengers, reveling in the fear he had sown.
The crowd's gaze fell on Ling Hao.
He was on the floor, one hand pressed against his stomach, fingers slick with blood. A deep, fatal wound. The world around him blurred — screams and chaos dissolving into a distant hum as he sank against the cold ground. His vision dimmed. The faces staring down at him grew indistinct, the light behind his eyes flickering like a candle guttering in the wind.
So this is the end, huh?
Was it worth it?
Never mind regret. I'll still die with an unfulfilling life.
As the last remnants of light faded, darkness swallowed him whole.
Then his eyes opened.
Above him stretched a breathtaking night sky, countless stars shimmering like jewels scattered across a vast, velvety canvas. Confused yet captivated, he slowly sat up and took in his surroundings.
He was nestled within a dense forest, tall trees standing sentinel around him, their leaves rustling softly in a cool night breeze. The faint sounds of nocturnal creatures filled the air, adding to the atmosphere of quiet, disorienting wonder.
Where the hell am I?