"Host, calm down! Listen to me for just a second!" the system practically screamed in her head. "Ending your life won't send you back! You are dead in your original world. Dead. As in, flatlined. No heartbeat. Kaput. Does it ring any bells?"
Serena didn't stop running. "Shut the fuck up! I would rather die again my way than get carved up like a roast chicken by these deranged male leads and tossed to whatever magical beast they keep as a pet!"
"…Okay, fair point," the system muttered. "But can we maybe consider the mission rewards first? Power? Riches? Your own harem?"
But Serena had already made up her mind. She closed her eyes dramatically like a tragic heroine, screamed "Screw you, reincarnation god! You can kiss my ass!" And leapt off the cliff.
***
Earlier that day...
"If you dare stop me, I will kill you!" screamed a voice from the room next door, followed by the unmistakable crash of porcelain. "WHERE'S THE DAMN MONEY, SIMON?!"
Serena let out a tired yawn as she sat up, blinking at the familiar cracks in her ceiling. Another day, same dull routine. Nothing ever changed. "Ah, romance in this world is just so refreshing," she mumbled, stepping into her fluffy slippers. "I'm definitely in hell."
A quick glance at the clock made her eyes widen. "Crap! I'm going to be late!"
Moving on autopilot, she dashed into the bathroom, took the fastest shower known to mankind, and threw on her usual work clothes a plain blouse and slacks. Standing in front of the mirror, she tied her hair into a tight bun and slid on her glasses with precision, giving her reflection a small nod of approval.
"Good enough," she muttered, grabbing her bag and keys before rushing out the door.
On her way down the stairs of the aging apartment building, she paused when she heard a familiar voice echoing through the hallway.
"You were out all night again, weren't you? Gambling? Whoring?!" The elderly landlady stood at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed, glaring at a young man who looked like he'd barely survived the night.
"No, Grandma!" the man protested, shaking his head so hard it was a miracle it didn't fall off. But the red lipstick stains on his collar and the heavy stench of alcohol told a different story.
"Just like your good-for-nothing father," the old woman snapped, smacking the back of his head. "Useless brat! Now go upstairs and tell those idiots to keep it down! It's not even 8 a.m. and they're already yelling like drunks!"
"Yes, grandma," he responded obediently rubbing his head as he scurried off.
Meanwhile, Serena was hugging her bag to her face and tiptoeing toward the exit, praying she wouldn't get noticed.
But just as her foot touched the last stair, a sharp voice sliced through the air. "Same goes for you, Serena Addams!"
She froze like a deer in headlights. Slowly, she turned her head to find Madame Porter staring at her with those hawk-like eyes, arms folded behind her back like a seasoned drill sergeant.
"If I don't have my rent, all three months of it, by the end of this week, your freeloading ass is out on the street. Got it?"
Serena straightened up like a soldier caught sneaking out of camp. "Yes, Madame Porter!" she said, snapping into a salute.
Madame Porter didn't even blink. "Now get your sorry self to that job of yours before your boss beats me to it and fires you first."
"Yes, ma'am! Thank you, ma'am!" Serena barked back, saluting again as if her life depended on it.
Madame Porter grunted in approval before marching off with stiff, no-nonsense strides, muttering about "kids these days" and "no sense of discipline."
Serena let out a deep breath the moment she disappeared from view. Living under the same roof as a retired military officer was no joke. Madame Porter may have been pushing seventy, but she still ran the building like a boot camp.
And rent? Rent was her battlefield.
Clutched her bag tighter, she made a dash for the door and rushed to her car like her life depended on it. She yanked the door open, slipped inside, and jammed the key into the ignition. Nothing.
"Not now," she muttered through gritted teeth, then slammed her hand against the steering wheel. "Come on, baby, don't do this to me!"
The engine sputtered pathetically a few more times before finally roaring to life. "Ha! Knew you still loved me," she grinned, patting the dashboard. Without wasting another second, she pulled out and zoomed down the street.
Her name? Serena Addams, aged 23. Personality? Classic introvert, preferred fictional worlds over reality, spent her nights binge-watching anime, gaming, and scrolling through endless webtoons. She had a quiet, not-so-glamorous white-collar job as a preschool teacher at a barely-known daycare center that paid just enough to scrape by.
But she wasn't complaining. As long as it covered rent (barely), kept her supplied with ramen and internet, and helped with her mom's medical bills. Thankfully, the road was clear today—no traffic, no honking maniacs. Good omen? Maybe. Or just dumb luck.
Her eyelids felt heavy. She had stayed up way too late bingeing the newest anime everyone was raving about.The dark circles under her eyes looked like bruises, and the sun wasn't even that high yet.
"Please, please, let me get there before that saliva-spitting ogre starts yelling again," she mumbled. The image of the round principal with his booming voice and flying spit made her visibly shiver. She pressed the gas harder. No way was she getting another lecture this week.
Serena's eyes widened as a massive truck appeared out of nowhere, barreling straight toward her.
"Oh no, no, no..." she slammed her foot on the brakes, but it was too late.
The screech of tires filled her ears, followed by a deafening crash.
The last thing she saw was the blinding light and the twisted metal, and just before her vision faded, the blurred image of three figures yanking open her car door. Their faces looked grim, hostile even.
Then, everything went black.