Potentially a mature story... Not sure.

Potentially there will be comedic elements... Not sure.

Definetly there will be slow releases .. Very sure.

Also, I am shit with naming things. Good luck if you can spot your name.

Spoiler :

And if you do you should be honored

Monkshod Gardiner Chapter 1: The Player

Pinned to the ground, Tyson Peterson was mercilessly stabbed to near death. Blood dripping and gasping for his last breath, he felt as if his ribs had pierced his lungs. Looking up at the next incoming blow, he managed to frail by kicking and punching his enemy. He was losing too much blood and he had a feeling that things were not going to end well. With his body on the brink of death, with his eyes half closed he glared at his opponent.

Strangely enough, red text appeared above his attacker.

It stated “Morai Dedged Group, ”.

This person called Morai was wincing on the ground from Tyson’s punch. Morai then called upon his team for help. As result, Tyson was caught and thrown unceremoniously onto the ground like a criminal accountable for murder in a judgemental court room. Morai towered over Tyson, touting his broad shoulders boasting,

"I am an agent of the WINGed angel of death. Do not mess with the Morai."

His sinister smile curled on his lips, as he leaned closer to the Tyson’s ears,

"Welcome to my death list."

He sunk the blade, like butter, through the Tyson’s heart.

Tyson Peterson awoke over his lifeless body. There was no pain as it was left to that physical container he had resided in. His mind felt clearer than it had ever been before; it was like removing the blindfolds covering his eyes.

And, in the instance you hear a pin drop, a sudden pain reverberated throughout the soul.

Memories, many, many memories.

He remembered the past lives he had lived previously. He now had clarity of Mind and Spirit. Something he would never had achieve if he was still living in the physical world. His soul, still attached to the body, pulled a face of disdain. He could still see the Morai vandalising his warm lifeless body.

The Morai gang was not finished with the Tyson’s body. Stripping all of his worldly materials, only a bare corpse remained. The leader of the Morai was a snooty upstart, after all he named his group after his own name. Tyson was livid with rage that he was frothing.. He tried to thrash them in the face with his elbow only to find his essence overstepping the mark; tripping forward. Alas, sweet revenge was for naught.

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What could a soul of dead person do?

He aimlessly watched them knowing he could do nothing.

When he had previously died, he had experienced rebirth before and he would not remember a thing from his previous cycles until he died. There was already well over 300 people he need to get revenge on. This time his death was just pitiable. He had left his wife and his son. He knew that these people would run with glee and have a hacking and slashing festival once they reach the village. He would never be able to get revenge, however, it would not stop him for trying. So he watch them intently knowing he only had a few moments before the rebirth cycle began.

Tyson approached each of his murderers’ backs. There was something interesting about his murderers, he could now see alot of detail information.

Morai was pleased with his kill. Scooping up as many items as he could scrounge. His quarry had been hard to track. He and his team had spent well over fourteen days to hunt for Tyson Peterson.

Dusting his knees as he stood up. Morai shouted, “Status Window”.

His other comrades did the same and then began to prep the ritual for teleporting back to their home town.

Tyson memorised the names and random of the people who recently killed him and mentally added to his revenge list. These horrible beings called themselves Players. They never die, infact if you killed them they would reappear in six days time. If they had you in their sights, there was no escape. The vicious ones would constantly call out 'Money!' Or 'EXP!' And then stab innocent people to death.

If only he could get them back for all the pain they had caused.

His body gradually began to fade. As he felt his soul pulling away from the scene, he thought to himself:

'If only I had the same powers I had before I was pulled into wretched world of no death.'

At the exact time that Tyson Peterson died, the Internet connection around the world failed for one hour. As for now, no one knows of the exact reason.