Traden, now outside the chamber, felt a strange sense of liberation mixed with an overwhelming exhaustion. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the purple moon ascended, casting its ethereal glow over the earth. The transition from day to night seemed to mirror the tumultuous changes in Traden's own life.

"Fuck! I'm out of breath," Traden cursed under his breath, his face contorted with frustration and disgust. "This body is weak as shit. Why did I even transmigrate into this weak ass body? Every step feels like miles, and as if I'm climbing up a mountain!"

His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a testament to his struggle. But just as he was about to give up and rest, a glimpse of a road—a concrete road with fences and benches around it—offered a sliver of hope.

"Augh... At least I have a path to follow. All I need to do is to find a good place to rest for the night," Traden muttered to himself, determination seeping back into his voice.

Following the road, he saw bystanders staggering under the dim streetlights, their drunken laughter shattering the quiet night's peace. "These drunken bastards had clearly gone too far," Traden thought with a sneer. Yet, he couldn't help but consider that asking them for help might lead him to a place to rest. But their inebriated state made him skeptical.

In the end, Traden decided to secretly follow the drunken group, hoping they would inadvertently lead him to safety.

Moments later, the city lights came into view, illuminating the darkened roads crowded with people walking alongside the sidewalks. Buildings with lights reflected in Traden's pupils, and his eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of hope shining through.

"Finally! My journey starts here, but before that..." Traden's face unwrinkled as he pondered his next move. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he entered the city, drawn to a market, a bank, and a four-story tall building that promised shelter—a hotel.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Without a second thought, Traden entered the hotel lobby, taking in the well-watered plants and the clock on the wall that read nine thirty-eight pm. A sigh escaped his lips as he murmured, "I'll try getting a room. It's already night; getting a room would be a safe option."

Approaching the counter, he was greeted by a lady who stood up and asked with a calm tone, "Good evening sir, would you like to get a room?"

Traden, with a worried and frail tone, inquired, "Good evening ma'am, how much for a room?"

"One shilling for one night, sir," the lady replied, her voice relaxed.

Traden's mind raced. "Do I even have any single money, not a single pence? Damnit! I should've stolen money from those drunken bastards," he thought, maintaining a normal facade to avoid suspicion.

"When will I need to pay the fee?" Traden asked, trying to buy time.

"Sir, before I say when you will need to pay, I will ask you how long will you stay here?" the lady inquired.

"Wait, a moment. I'll need to think on how long I'll stay here," Traden responded, his voice calm.

After a moment of contemplation, Traden decided to stay for a week and then pay after the week was over. With a smile, he said, "I'll be staying here for a week. How about I'll pay after the week ends? Is it okay?"

The lady returned the smile. "It's okay, sir. You're going to pay seven shillings next week in the evening. We will remind you two days before your one-week stay ends. Now, I'll lead you to your room."

"Okay, it's settled. Next week payment. Okay, lead me to my room," Traden agreed.

"Okay, sir, follow me," the lady said as she led Traden through a dim hallway and up creaking stairs to room 33.

"Sir, here's your room," the lady said, handing Traden the key. "Feel free to talk to us if you need any kind of help. We will try our best to help you. Then, see you tomorrow, sir."

Traden entered his room with excitement in his eyes and a restless smile. All he could think of now was sleep. He lay on the bed in his tattered robe and pants, his mind filled with questions. "How will I get enough money for my rent? What jobs should I take? Will I be able to eat or drink? I'm hungry and thirsty."

Turning his head, he noticed a pitcher and a glass cup on the bedside table. "Where did this come from? Isn't this suspicious? Why is it already ready? Did they predict that someone would come here? Is this drinkable, or what if it's poisoned?" Traden's body sent chills and trembled at the thought.

Trying to control his mind, he lay down and prayed, "Whoever you are up there, please have mercy on me. I don't want to die early. I haven't got a job, don't have any type of money or even money itself. I'm hungry and thirsty at the same time. I'll just need water. I'll make my own money and get myself food. Please forgive me."

After praying, Traden stood up with determination and fear, poured water into the cup, and said, "Bye, bye world. I died young." Hel ay down, relaxed his body, and closed his eyes.