Chapter One: A Hell-Level Beginning

“This damn world!”

On the rooftop, a drunken figure collapsed heavily to the ground. After cursing these words with a blank expression, he simply passed out, dead drunk.

Never before had he felt such hatred for the world.

What grudge, what vendetta? He had been living perfectly well on Earth, working hard for two years after graduating from university, finally achieving a measure of success. But just because he got a little too happy over a promotion and a raise, drank a bit, and then woke up—he found himself inexplicably in this strange world.

That moment, he was completely stunned.

For the first time, he so clearly felt the world’s deep malice toward him.

He had just paid the down payment for his apartment last month!

Did it have to be this cruel and heartless?

And as if that wasn’t enough—if he had to transmigrate, couldn’t he have at least gotten a better background? Just look at his current situation.

Chen Qi: fresh university graduate, family just declared bankruptcy, parents fled abroad under the weight of enormous debt.

Tsk. The notorious hell-level start.

What had he done to deserve this?

Had he blown up the galaxy in a previous life, or what?

Even a slightly better setup would have sufficed…

“#%&*@#*~#&%￥#~!” Even in his sleep, he seemed unreconciled, still mumbling curses.

Half-conscious, he thought he saw a meteor streak across the sky.

When the sun rose the next morning, Chen Qi finally woke again.

He sat up slowly, gazed around at his surroundings, and, after confirming that everything was real and not a dream, squeezed his eyes shut in pain. An uncontrollable sadness welled up from deep within his heart.

After a while, he turned his head, red-eyed, and stared eastward for a long time in silence.

Had anyone passed by just then, they would have noticed a glimmer of tears in his eyes.

He sat from dawn until dusk. Only deep into the night did he finally bow his head, gathering up his scattered thoughts.

By the dim light around him, he silently opened a bottle of liquor. After downing it in one go, he curled into a ball in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees, and fell asleep.

A faint trail of tears still clung to the corner of his eyes.

He did not know how long he slept, but when he opened his eyes again, dawn was breaking.

Chen Qi looked around in a daze, slowly stood up, and gazed out at the coming day with a complicated expression, a hint of self-mockery on his face.

No matter what, he had to accept reality.

What was that damned old saying? Since you’re already here…

What else could he do?

But perhaps because of the transmigration, he couldn’t remember much.

Yesterday—or rather, the day before yesterday—when he’d woken, he was already on this rooftop, surrounded by a mess of seven or eight bottles. Unable to accept the truth of transmigration, he’d panicked, opened those bottles, and drank himself into oblivion. When he woke again, it was yesterday.

But why had he been drinking before that?

He tried hard to recall.

Oh, right—because his family had gone bankrupt.

But that didn’t seem to be the whole story…

After painstakingly piecing together the fragments of his memory, he finally had a vague impression of what had happened the previous two days.

It seemed the day before yesterday, he’d received a call from his parents abroad. Something must have triggered him, for after hanging up, he’d snapped, grabbed a random crate of liquor, and fled to this rooftop.

Beyond that, he couldn’t remember a thing.

After a few failed attempts to recover his memory, Chen Qi sighed.

In novels or TV dramas, isn’t transmigration always accompanied by a splitting headache and an influx of unfamiliar memories? Why did things have to go off script with him?

But now, none of that mattered. What he needed to consider was how to survive in this world.

He’d already gotten a simple understanding the day before yesterday—this world was nearly identical to Earth, what they’d call a parallel world in film and television. But by paying close attention to what he’d learned so far, he noticed that this world was slightly less advanced than Earth.

Remembering this, Chen Qi felt a little reassured. At least, surviving here wouldn’t be too difficult.

At that moment, his phone rang.

Chen Qi pulled out his phone and saw an unremarked number calling. He vaguely remembered seeing calls from this number before.

After hesitating for a few seconds, he pressed answer. “Hello?”

“Mr. Chen, we finally found you!” came a young woman’s voice. “This is Elegant Group. Congratulations, you’ve been hired. Please come to our office next Monday to complete your onboarding.”

“Uh…” Chen Qi froze for two seconds before realizing this must be the company he’d interviewed with before. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to go.”

He made up a casual excuse and brushed it off.

Hired?

He couldn’t even remember what his previous major was. Even if he could, he wouldn’t go. He was, after all, a transmigrator. If he was going to find a job, it would have to be one with “real” prospects. With the knowledge he still had from Earth, he might not achieve untold wealth, but he was confident he’d never lack for food or clothing.

Perhaps because of the transmigration, his mindset had shifted. No longer did he have the same drive as his past life. Instead, he approached things with a “life is a game” attitude.

To put it in modern terms, he’d learned to let things go.

Every time he thought of how his two years of hard-earned down payment had vanished without a trace, he felt a pain that made it hard to breathe.

After hanging up, he checked his call history out of habit and was surprised to find that this number had been calling him twice a day since the day before yesterday. Today marked the seventh call in four days.

“Elegant Group?” Chen Qi mused. Was he really so outstanding before that such a major company would persistently try to contact him?

But he didn’t dwell on it. He continued to sit there in a daze, pondering how best to integrate into this world.

Unconsciously, he glanced down at his left index finger and saw a thin silver ring. Surprised, he instinctively reached to remove it.

He wasn’t in the habit of wearing jewelry.

But no matter how hard he tried, the ring wouldn’t budge. It was as if it had fused to his finger.

Just as he was puzzling over it, a semi-transparent screen suddenly appeared before his eyes.

[Destruction System initial startup in progress. Please wait…]

Chen Qi stared in astonishment.

Destruction system?

What did that mean?

Transmigration was strange enough. Now, a touch-activated screen?

While he was still in shock, the system finished booting up and entered the main interface.

Across the top were six folder-like icons in a row. Only the first was in color; the remaining five were grayed out.

After a long moment, he reached out and tentatively tapped the only colored icon.

To his surprise, the semi-transparent screen really was touch-sensitive.

With the touch of his finger, the pitch-black background instantly shifted to a vast starry sky. Lines of small white text began scrolling from right to left across the screen, just like the comment screens he’d seen on Earth.

Chen Qi looked more closely and was shocked to recognize many familiar titles: Three Hundred Poems of the Tang Dynasty, A Brief History of Time, Five Thousand Years of China, Songs of Chu, Borrowing Five Hundred Years from Heaven, The Return of the Great Sage, and so on.

His expression grew ever more bewildered. After a few stunned seconds, he randomly tapped on one of the titles scrolling past.

The screen flashed, and neat lines of text appeared before him.

It was a book—The Art of War.

Chen Qi began to understand. He returned to the main page and tapped other folders at random.

Just as he suspected—all the books, songs, and films listed could be opened and viewed.

He then noticed a search bar at the top. After a moment’s thought, he entered the title of a film he remembered vividly.

It appeared instantly.

He tried searching for other works he could recall, and each was found just as quickly.

…

…

(Er… Yes, I’m back.)