Chapter 1: A Life Worth Zero Credits
The fluorescent lights of the "24/7 Express" convenience store hummed with a depressing, low-pitched buzz that sounded exactly how Lin felt: burnt out and flickering on the edge of darkness.
"Hey, Trash-Lin! Are you deaf? I said mop the floor again. There's a footprint near the instant noodle aisle."
Lin didn't look up. He didn't have the energy to. He just tightened his grip on the rusted mop handle, his knuckles white and bony. His manager, a man whose neck was swallowed by three layers of fat, spat a piece of chewed betel nut into a bin near Lin's feet.
"Twenty-six years old and you can't even clean a floor right," the manager sneered. "No wonder your girlfriend dumped you for a guy who actually owns a car. You're a placeholder, Lin. A background character in your own life."
Lin remained silent. Every word was a jagged stone hitting an old bruise. He was broke. He lived in a room so small he could touch both walls while sleeping. He had no savings, no talent, and as of three days ago, no reason to check his phone because the only person who used to text him was now posting pictures of a diamond ring from someone else.
A background character... Lin thought, staring at his blurry reflection in the wet floor. He's right. If I died today, the only thing people would be annoyed about is that the shop is short-staffed.
The shift finally ended at midnight.
Rain began to pour—the cold, stinging kind that felt like the universe was throwing needles at him. Lin walked toward his cramped apartment, his cheap shoes soaking up the oily street water. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his only solace: a cracked smartphone. He opened a web novel app, seeking an escape into a world where losers became gods.
"Must be nice," he whispered, coughing as the damp air hit his lungs. "To just wake up in another world. To have a 'System.' To actually matter."
He reached the intersection. The traffic light was flickering, caught in a glitch between red and green.
SCREECH—!
The sound of burning rubber tore through the rain. Lin looked up, blinded by two high-beam halos of white light. A truck—massive, uncontrolled, and roaring like a beast—was skidding directly toward him.
Time seemed to slow down. A normal hero would have leaped out of the way. A brave man would have closed his eyes and prayed.
Lin did neither. He just stood there, clutching his cracked phone, feeling a strange, hollow sense of relief.
Finally, he thought. The background character is getting written out.
CRASH.
Pain wasn't the first thing he felt. It was a cold, digital sensation, like ice water being poured into his brain.
In the darkness of his collapsing consciousness, a mechanical, genderless voice echoed—not in his ears, but inside his soul.
[...Scanning Soul Compatibility...] [Target: Male. Age: 26. Status: Absolute Zero.] [Life Achievements: None.] [Regret Level: 99.9%.] [Criteria Met. Initializing the 'Evolution of the Bottom-Feeder' System.]
[Would you like to restart your life in a world where strength is the only currency?]
Lin wanted to scream "Yes," but he had no lungs. He wanted to reach out, but he had no hands. He poured every ounce of his bitterness, his poverty, and his loneliness into a single mental roar.
ANYWHERE BUT HERE!
[Selection Confirmed.] [Transferring Soul to the Great Azure Continent...] [Good luck, Host. Try not to die in the first ten minutes.]
The white light swallowed him whole, and for the first time in twenty-six years, Lin felt something other than exhaustion.
He felt a spark.