“I’m Peijin.”

That was how I usually introduced myself, and people, trying to be nice, would respond by saying, "What a pretty name. You must be very ambitious.”

Yes, exactly. To be precise, my name directly translated to “full of gemstones and fine jade,” and my name was associated with ambition and the essence of humanitarian ideals.

However, my parents must have named their beloved daughter while ignoring the fact my name also insinuated tragedy, disappointment, and cynicism—all of which was deeply felt when I failed the National College Entrance Examination and was sentenced to a shameful job.

Now, the glow from my laptop screen illuminated my pale face in the cluttered apartment room. I sat on an old spinning chair, my head rested atop my folded knees, and I absentmindedly picked at the bowl of rice and marinated pork before me.

I saw a notification pop up on the corner of my screen and opened up the web novel site, reading the comment under Chapter 3,649—my most recently uploaded chapter.

Fourteen-year-old me thought a good pen name would fix my doomed fate, even if it was just for a stupid web novel I was writing. I both bitterly and pridefully settled on JiaLi1825 which meant “good” and “beautiful” girl. Two things that I wasn’t.

Almost ten years later, my lonely and unremarkable life could be summed up as such: Liu Peijin, twenty-four, single, pest control.

I kept updating my web novel daily though, and I suppose that’s where all my ambition went. Everyone loved a cliché, mass-produced web novel. A classic, depressed but resourceful, male protagonist with a lousy job, no prospects, a scummy apartment… wait.

Well, I guess writing was escapism, too.

“Damnit, my life sucks,” I said while bashing my head against my battered desk.

Qiu Feiyu was my very handsome and very generic protagonist, but I had poured my heart into writing about him. Sometimes, it felt like I was writing this entire story for him… or maybe for the stranger who inspired him. Teleported into a world dominated by divinities, demons, and ghosts under a game system, Feiyu had to cleverly escape dangerous challenges.

Even in the first chapter, Feiyu had to intelligently navigate and survive a challenge that would kill more than half of the population in a flash. Things weren’t necessarily easy for him, and I took joy in that. Not that I was a sadist or anything.

Although I initially wrote for my own fulfillment, projecting myself into these characters, I started writing basic tropes for readers. Numbers going up on the infinite dungeon grind, blue boxes, Demon Kings, goblins—all of it.

Except for anything romantic. I was single.

Hey, people liked what they were familiar with. But at some point, I didn’t. If a part of me was proud of my work, it was long, long gone.

Thanks to my childhood self, I had enough funds to get through every month. Surviving My First Run was successful, having garnered around nine million total views.

But, it didn’t help that the greedy web novel contract meant I wasn’t making as much money as I should have. My Paytron account was enough though, and I even let users buy their way into the storyline as characters. Apparently, I drove away readers with my allegedly “confrontational” personality. I wouldn’t really call myself confrontational—maybe reactive was a better word. Obviously, fourteen-year-old me was incredibly defensive, but I swear I’ve grown since then. At least a bit.

I looked back at my computer. The comment glared at me from my screen.

MolaMola: Thank you for the chapter!

I’m a bit confused… isn’t Feiyu on his first run?

He shouldn’t have any buffs from any previous

regressions that wouldn’t exist.

JiaLi1825: It doesn’t really matter.

Feiyu got the staff from a divinity anyway.

MolaMola: Just wanted to point out a

consistency issue if you cared enough to fix it.

JiaLi1825: I definitely care, it’s just not

that relevant to the plot. Past regression or

not, he would’ve attained the staff somehow…

MolaMola: It’s a minor issue.

No need to get so defensive.

JiaLi1825: I’m not being defensive.

MolaMola: You should still fix it.

I stared at the message; my brows furrowed. Okay, sure, I wasn’t the greatest at writing a tightly knit plot, but it always got on my nerves when commenters were dismissive about my efforts.

Had I been too defensive, though? I knew I wasn’t the best at talking to people, since I spent most of my time alone… Maybe MolaMola was right. It really wasn’t that big of an edit, and I hated confrontation. I’d make it quickly, respond with a brief thanks to his comment, and—

MolaMola: Hellooo? I’ve been a long-time reader.

Trust me, I know the ins and outs of this story, lol.

Never mind.

I deleted the comment thread. If MolaMola cared so much about a story I was writing, he could write his own. Now, this interaction would be on my mind all night.

Ding. A new notification appeared, this time signaling a private message. Realizing it was MolaMola, I let out a frustrated groan but continued reading.

MolaMola: I didn’t mean to offend you.

I simply had a question about the content, but there

was no need to act so rudely to my feedback.

You forget who your readers are, and how they’ve

brought you to this point. You’re going to regret deleting

my messages, Jia Li. Tomorrow, 1p.m. I have a surprise for you.

My chest tightened, and my face flushed from a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. Was I really that bad at talking to people? I glared at my computer screen for a moment longer before reporting MolaMola again and blocking him. Seriously, who’d go out of their way to threaten someone who had written a story for an entire decade? What a narcissist. And his username was stupid.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

This was my mundane, unfulfilling life. Everything was the same—even the night before the apocalypse.

For those reading this story now, then congrats, you’ve survived the apocalypse. But please don’t come looking for me. I’m sorry this was the best ending I could write, but it was the only way to save you.

----------------------------------------

“What a complete dump.” I surveyed the infested house teeming with cockroaches and bedbugs. I was totally prepared in white protective gear with my black bob tied up in a short ponytail. “I don’t understand how people live like this, let alone let an infestation get this bad.”

Fat brown cockroaches hissed, some darting away when I awkwardly shifted throughout the room. It was the day after I received MolaMola’s message, and I went about my day as normal.

Yang wrapped the dirtied white couch with a clear plastic wrap to trap the insects and then stood up, brushing off his suit. He wore a matching plastic suit, large goggles plastered over his eyes. They were fogging up now and sweat collected on the interior.

“Don’t be so judgmental, Peijin,” Yang said. “A lot of them struggle with their mental health.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh before I helped him clean up. “If only I didn’t flunk that stupid college test…”

“I don’t know, I find it rewarding to help them,” Yang said with a light smile, and I could see the large beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. He was working much harder than I was. “It’s helping them get their life back in order, you know? I’d hope someone would do the same for me.”

I looked at him, my eyes narrowing in suspicion at his words. We’d been co-workers for a while, and seeing him smiling up close, I could see why many in our office found him to be the most attractive one there. He had light brown hair and deep coffee-brown eyes that caught and reflected light perfectly, almost making his irises an orange color. Even as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead with his gloved forearm, he looked as if he were glowing.

I scrunched my nose. Since I was young, I held sky-high ambitions for myself. I’ve fallen terribly short from them, which was probably why I acted like a bitter old woman. But even though Yang was in the same spot as me, he acted nothing like me, and I knew that he would do great things while I continued to lag behind everyone.

Yang was a completely different person than me, and we ended up at this job for different reasons. I hated how perfect he was, but I didn’t hate Yang.

“I don’t get how people like you are real, or how you even survived this long.” I felt a crawling sensation and slapped my leg, exhaling slowly to calm my heart. I looked down and saw a puncture in the leg of my suit and a crushed cockroach on the inside. “Shit….”

Yang peeked over, his face twisting into a teasing grin. “It’s fine. You brought the steamer, right?”

We always needed to bring a steamer to kill all the bugs that might be on our clothing, jammed in the soles of our shoes, or hiding in furniture.

“Weren’t you supposed to pack it?” I asked.

“You’ve always packed it, Peijin.”

I shot him a crushed look.

Yang’s expression turned considerate. “Let me drive back to the office to pick one up. My suit is fine, so it’s unlikely I’ll bring any bugs with me to the office.”

Damn his kindness.

“I don’t want you getting in trouble,” I insisted. “Let’s just finish up. When we get back to the office, I’ll ask for a steamer and deal with the consequences.”

“Are you sure?”

“Confident.”

He tilted his head curiously. “I thought you only had one more warning until you got fired?”

“Did you really have to bring that up?!”

Yang gave another toothy grin as he went to lift the couch into the van. “Don’t worry about it. Rookie mistake. I’ll head back and vouch for you if needed.”

I didn’t know how he could put up with me or how he could remain this calm, but I was glad I made the error with him there and not someone else.

We lifted the couch into the back of the van and flicked off any visible bugs on the outer layer of plastic before unsuiting. I thought back to my cluttered, dirty apartment; just a few bed bugs caught on my shoes could be a complete disaster. My face flushed a light pink as I remembered the earlier conversation where I had judged the client’s home.

Moving into the driver’s seat, I groaned, gripping the steering wheel and pressing my forehead against it. “Why is my life so bad?”

“Maybe because you failed your college entrance exam?”

“Shut up.”

Yang typed the directions back to the office on my phone and set it on the dashboard for me to see. “We’ll get there by 1:17 p.m. At worst, there might be a few loose bed bugs, but I think most are contained in the wrap.” He grinned and lifted a finger to point at the aux. “Do you mind if I listen to my podcast?”

“You listen to podcasts? That’s really weird,” I said. “You’re preparing for that senior citizen life already.”

He shot me a mortified expression while I laughed, pulling onto the freeway. “It’s just that American politics are so fascinating. I want to move there in the future. It’s much different than China.”

It was thrilling to watch Yang speak—he was diligent and a good person, and when he spoke, his glowing eyes focused just on you, and it made you feel like the only person in the world.

“I’m trying to learn English,” I replied in a feeble attempt to look cool, tilting my chin up a bit while keeping my eyes on the freeway to avoid his stare.

“Oh, really? Are you watching shows in English or taking any private lessons?”

“I read English novels and plays.”

Yang’s expression lit up with excitement. “Which ones?”

I paused, trying and failing to elaborate on the lie. Well, it wasn’t like I was completely lying—I definitely read novels, just not in English. But I wasn’t going to list off trashy web novels; that would be completely embarrassing in front of someone as studious as Yang. Suddenly, The Potentate by BananaDragon became Shakespeare.

“I’m reading… Shakespeare.”

Yang gasped, looking at me in awe from the passenger seat. “Really? Wow, that’s impressive. You should help me with my English. Which play are you reading?”

“Umm… Merchant in Venice.”

“That’s so niche! You must really be an expert.” Yang’s face lit up into a bright smile as he continued, “I’m reading Fitzgerald right now, and it’s so difficult. Do you have any advice?”

Shit.

“Just read a lot. You’ll get there since you’re very smart.”

I laughed awkwardly before turning my focus back to the road, both embarrassed and a bit ashamed. A notification pinged suddenly on my phone, blocking the map’s directions.

Yang was quick to react. “Let me switch it back to the map.” He went to tap on my phone but paused. “MolaMola sent you a message and a file. They said ‘Thanks for writing Surviving My First Run. As promised, here’s the surprise.’”

My eyes widened, and I looked at the time. 12:59 p.m. They couldn’t even time it right. Didn’t I block them? They shouldn’t be able to send me any messages.

“Oh, I have no idea what they’re talking about,” I said, playing it off as I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Do you write web novels? Isn’t Surviving My First Run super famous? I always see the ads in the train station.” He turned to me, looking amazed.

“What are you talking about? I’ve never heard of that.” I pursed my lips, swallowing and continuing to look down the freeway.

My phone pinged again, and Yang peeked over. “They sent another message—”

Before he could read it, I snatched my phone and read the notification, slowing down the car.

“Why hide it if you wrote it?”

My blood ran cold, and I could feel my throat thickening from both anxiety and anticipation. Was this guy some freaky stalker?

That was the moment when the phone screen and the car around me vanished. A glowing blue screen appeared before me with writing in bright white text.

[Your free trial on Planet-2099 has ended.]

… What?

I turned to look back at the freeway, careful of the cars around me. The blue screen stayed in front of me, but I could see through the interface to the cars beyond. By the shocked expression on Yang’s face, I could tell he saw it, too. He must have his own screen; his vision was locked on a seemingly empty space above his lap.

I glanced at the time on my phone. 1 p.m. On the dot.

A blinding flash of light and a massive explosion on the freeway a few cars ahead sent debris, vehicles, and massive chunks of concrete and asphalt flying into the air. Car windows cracked from the force of the explosion, and a deafening boom rang out.

I gripped the wheel and swerved into the emergency lane, trying to avoid the ensuing chaos. Yang cried out and grabbed my arm to stabilize himself. Cars crashed and reversed desperately, their drivers and passengers surprised by the eruption and trying to escape.

A small dragon, barely longer than my forearm, appeared from the bright blue blast, floating in the air a few meters above the cars. After unfurling itself, it moved its limbs awkwardly, like a newborn giraffe trying to learn how to stand, and each eye blinked independently before they would eventually sync. My jaw dropped as I stared at the creature.

“¡™£¢∞§¶•ªº”

The dragon seemed to speak in a foreign language—no, a completely new language—before it opened a glowing blue interface, fidgeting with the buttons and scratching at its head.

One of the Four Auspicious Beasts of China would appear on the freeway, and for the first time, it would open its eyes and find humanity. In their craze and panic, humans would come to recognize it as the Azure Dragon.

I knew this. I knew this setting perfectly as that sentence popped into my mind—that sentence I wrote. This was the opening scene to Surviving My First Run.

My heart was beating out of my chest, and I could feel my head spinning. I immediately stopped the car in a secure spot on the freeway, unable to piece together any coherent thoughts.

There was no way any of this was real, right? I mean, seriously, my web novel becoming reality? I must have been hallucinating, or maybe I died in some freak car accident and was sent into hellish afterlife.

[Your free trial on Planet-2099 has ended.]

The blue screen was still in front of me. There was a white “X” in the corner. Did the interface operate the same as it did in Surviving My First Run? Without hesitating, I easily controlled the screen, moving it with my hand or just by thinking about it. I quickly shut it with a mental command.

Yang’s voice snapped me out of my flurry of thoughts.

“Peijin? What is this?” Yang seemed to shrink in front of me as he tugged on my sleeve, shaking.

I gave him a reassuring squeeze while trying to calm myself down, too. “Don’t say a word. I need you to trust me on this.”

A booming voice sounded out, exuding an air of wicked power and confidence. Yet, the words were that of a rookie.

“Hello? Hello? Can you hear me now? Sorry about that, you guys have a lot of dialects, and I got confused. I’ve never seen this specific planet before—my boss just assigned it to me this morning.”

The dragon’s voice was heard by everyone within the vicinity. He slowly looked around and saw all the bewildered glances from people slowly exiting their cars, and he let out an evil, cackling laugh.

“China is open for the apocalypse!”

[The first arc has begun.]

[Now commencing Chapter #1 - Prerequisite]