Life had a very bad sense of humor.
Well… we all know that. We plan something sweet and peaceful, and Life is like, "BOOM!!! Bitch, you thought you could be happy while I exist?"
And here's the real joke—no one can end Life.
But Life? Oh, Life ends you whenever it feels bored.
And somehow, Life decided to personally screw over our handsome, toxic, walking red-flag of an MC.
Lu Zhen.
One of the underworld's most feared gangsters. (Okay, maybe not THE most feared, but definitely in the top 10. Top 15 on bad days.)
Ruthless. Efficient. Zero mercy. A man who believed in only two things:
One—fear keeps people alive. Two—he wasn't the type to die easily.
Turns out he was very, VERY wrong about the second. Because when you challenge the God of Death… Congratulations. God is stronger than you.
And something like that happened that day too.
The alley was soaked in rain, blood, and questionable puddles. Even the gangster alley cat—normally fearless—was hiding behind a trash bin lid like it was a riot shield.
THAWACK!! WACK!!
A man flew across the alley like a sad piece of laundry.
Lu Zhen stood in the middle, sleeves rolled up, shirt half-open, and expression bored.
He fought the enemy gang with effortless kicks and punches—not like they were grown adults…but like they were cheap punching bags he regretted buying.
His own men fought behind him, yelling, cursing, and occasionally slipping on rainwater like clowns.
WHACK!!! THUD!!!
The last man crashed to the ground, groaning in pain and reconsidering his life choices.
Lu Zhen shook rain off his knuckles. "Tsk. Waste of time. I told you idiots to stay home."
One of his men wiped blood off his nose. "But Boss—how did they find us so fast?"
"That's what I'm wondering."
Lu Zhen stepped over bodies like they were speed bumps. He wasn't even breathing heavily. He was the kind of man who could beat people half to death and still complain the weather was annoying.
He cracked his knuckles, flexing his fingers. "Keep an eye out… they're definitely plotting something."
"Y-Yes, Boss!"
His men straightened immediately, even the one missing a shoe. Lu Zhen gave them a bored glance and slid into the backseat of his car. The leather squeaked under him as he leaned back, sighing like a man forced to attend kindergarten.
"Sigh… what a pathetic day."
His driver—nervous, sweating, and hoping not to die next—peeked through the rearview mirror. "Where to, Boss?"
Lu Zhen rubbed his temple. "Take me to the music bar."
Finally, something relaxing. Alcohol. Girls. Loud music. No idiots starting fights—well, until he started them.
The driver nodded and started reaching for the keys. But before he could even turn them—
HOOOOONNNNNKKKKKK!!!!!!
The loudest, most ungodly horn exploded through the alley.
Lu Zhen's head whipped toward the sound. His eyes widened a fraction.
A truck—No, a possessed truck—was barreling down the narrow alley like it had a personal vendetta against him.
The driver screamed, "WHAT THE HELL—?!"
Lu Zhen blinked. Confused. Annoyed. And then—
"…Who the hell let Optimus Prime loose—"
CRAAAAAAASHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
Metal smashed metal. Glass shattered. The world flipped. Lu Zhen's body slammed against the door, the impact rattling through his bones.
The car spun.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Then silence.Cold.Heavy.
Blood trickled down his cheek, warm against the chill of rain. The driver wasn't moving.
Lu Zhen breathed out a single, exhausted last sigh.
"…Seriously? Truck-kun?" His vision blurred. "Is this how I go? I survive bullets, knives, and explosions…and a truck takes me out?"
His head lolled back. Rain pattered on the cracked windshield. The scent of gasoline filled the air.
His last thought was a bitter laugh. "Life really… hates me."
Blackness swallowed him whole. But death wasn't done with him.
And neither was life.
***
[Just Somewhere—Do Not Ask]
BAM!!!!!!!
"UGHH—damn it, it hurts!!!"
Lu Zhen hit the floor like a sack of potatoes dropped off a five-story building. A blanket—fluffy, traitorous, evil—was wrapped around his entire body like a python.
He groaned, rubbing his poor, abused butt, then blinked his mysteriously fluttery eyes—eyes no man should accidentally possess—and looked around.
"Where… the hell…?" he muttered.
The blanket was still wrapped around one leg like a clingy ex.
He kicked. It tightened.
He kicked again. It doubled down.
"…You little—" His third attempt ended with him practically wrestling the thing on the floor.
Finally, he snapped.
"WHAT KIND OF STUPID BLANKET IS THIS?!"
With the fury of a man who had absolutely had enough, he yeeted the blanket across the room.
Instant regret.
"Ow—!"
A sting shot up his wrist. He froze, staring at the layers of unnecessary, over-the-top bandages wrapped all the way up his arm.
"…Who bandaged me? A mummy enthusiast?"
Then—memory.The truck.
"Oh. Right. I had an accident." He sighed dramatically. "Well, at least I'm ali—"
Pause.
Why pause?
Because something felt… off. Specifically… his chest. It felt oddly… inflated.
Bloated.
Suspiciously balloon-like.
What he saw made his soul eject itself from his body.
Two. Curved. Soft. Clearly-NOT-his.
Breasts.
"…Did I overdo… chest day?" he whispered, choosing delusion first as any sane man would.
He closed his eyes and looked down again.
And froze, again.
"This… this is not a pectoral. That is… that is a fully licensed… premium… upgrade."
Before he could mentally reboot—
SHA-LA-LA~
One smooth, slender, dazzling leg slid out from beneath his night pajamas. A soft, hairless, slender girl leg.
A leg that did NOT belong to any man named Lu Zhen.
Lu Zhen's soul left his body.
"WHAT—WHO—WHY—SINCE WHEN DO I HAVE A—!!!! "
And that was the moment the universe personally unplugged the last working wire in his brain.
His hands shot to his face.
Soft.Smooth.Suspiciously tiny.
"…Why does my face feel like someone ironed it with moisturizer…?"
He looked around the room. A small, neat space. Pink teddy bears everywhere. Pastel curtains. A study desk stacked with books. A pink trash bin shaped like a rabbit.
He stared.
"…Since when did I—the great Lu Zhen, nightmare of the underworld—start studying? I don't even study my own criminal records."
His eyes drifted further, and then—
There.
A mirror.
He froze.
He gulped.
His soul attempted to escape a second time. "No… No, I'm not looking. I refuse to look. Looking is how people die in horror movies."
But curiosity dragged him like a goat to sacrifice.
He moved toward the mirror. Slowly. Cautiously. Like a very traumatized tortoise racing a rabbit, he KNOWS he can't beat.
And then—DA-DA-DUNNNNNNN!!
Staring back at him from the mirror… Was a girl.
A sweet, innocent, soft-looking girl with long black hair, gentle purple eyes...and dark circles so deep they seemed to say, "I haven't known sleep since the dinosaurs."
Lu Zhen blinked.Mirror-girl blinked.
He raised his left hand.She raised hers.
He raised his right hand.She followed.
He played peek-a-boo.She peek-a-booed right back.
Nothing changed.
Nothing broke.
Reality stood firm.
His last neuron threw itself off a cliff. And then—
"AAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The scream shook the pink teddy bears. Birds outside the window flew away. A neighbor dropped their noodle bowl. Somewhere in the distance, a dog started crying.
And that… That is how our almighty gangster—terror of the streets, breaker of bones, destroyer of reputations—was absolutely, brutally, unforgivably betrayed by life.