A rusty bolt. A photo of which will be his last. A cold and dark grave, far too deep to his liking. He meets his death and is offered, no, he doesn't know if it was a offer or more by force. He can only laugh, to give up choice for a next time. At the cost of choice the man was forced to roll the dice. High numbers don't always mean the best. He has a second chance, and only has a hand full of straw to grab onto. He doesn't want to die again. He'll make it. Even if he can't return he will survive the best he can. But all fear the dark don't they. Even so he has to grin. - Like I said it is so light to be even called a litrpg, but if a board counts then ima say ya' this is a litrpg. Without skills, stats, and power ups... Hey! You'll maybe get a white screen at the end of chapters, sometimes. I am getting back into writing, so please comment and help me get better.