Paul woke up with a throbbing migraine. The mattress he slept on was hard, and the air in his small Brooklyn apartment was thick with the smell of the city: a combination of pollution, street food, and poverty. At 22, Paul had never known stability or security. Orphaned since birth, he had navigated between foster homes and the streets, quickly learning that life was not kind to the weak.
He glanced at the cracked clock on the wall. 7:00 a.m. He had to get up for his job as a dishwasher in a seedy local restaurant, but he lacked the desire. The pay was paltry, the boss a tyrant, and the customers rarely friendly. However, Paul did not have the luxury of being choosy. Every dollar earned was another dollar for survival.
As he descended the dilapidated stairs of his apartment building, he passed his neighbor, Mr. Jenkins, a Vietnam War veteran, a frail old man with straggly white hair, calling out to him.
"Paul, you should be careful who you hang out with," he said seriously. "These guys you see will only bring you trouble."
Paul gave a bitter smile. "Thank you for the advice, Mr. Jenkins. But sometimes you don't get to choose your friends."
He steps out onto the street, where the sound of horns and the shouts of street vendors create a familiar cacophony. His steps inevitably led him to the restaurant, where he immediately plunged into the monotonous routine of dirty plates and incessant scolding.
At the end of his shift, exhausted and with scratched hands, he is greeted by a group of men in an adjacent alley. Among them, Dominic, a guy with whom Paul had recently become friends, but who had a sulphurous reputation. Dominic offered him dubious "deals", often legal on the razor's edge.
"Paul, you did a good job the other day," Dominic said with a wicked smile. "I have another mission for you. Well paid this time."
Paul hesitated. He knew it implied something fishy, but the lure of profit was too strong. "What do you want me to do?"
Dominic placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, just a small delivery. We'll see you tonight, at the same place."
In the evening, Paul joins Dominic and his group. The atmosphere was tense, but Paul tried to hide his worry. They were supposed to deliver a package to a contact of Dominic's, but things quickly turned sour. The contact, suspicious, accused Dominic of treason, and a fight broke out. In the chaos, Paul received a violent blow to the head. The pain was searing and darkness enveloped him.
In the stifling darkness of the night, Paul's destiny loomed inexorably. The pale glow of the moon barely illuminated the darkness that enveloped the sleeping city. He felt his pulse beating in his temples, an irregular rhythm that seemed to announce the inevitable. Around him, the distant murmur of city life continued, ignoring the silent agony that gripped him.
Paul lay there, on the cold asphalt of a dark alley, his body bruised and his mind foggy with pain. Flashes of memories swirled in his mind, fleeting moments of his earthly life flashed before his eyes in a kaleidoscope of sensations and regrets.
He remembered the tumult of his youth, the carefree laughter and the unfinished dreams. But those memories seemed so distant now, overshadowed by the cold reality of his impending end. Destiny, this undisputed master, had reserved a final test for him, a confrontation with his own mortality.
Paul lived his whole life in New York City, he did his studies, his activities, his mischief there. Unfortunately for him, life has not been kind to him, he is an orphan from birth. In fact, his mother died just after giving birth to him. He therefore had to live a life without support, without example. It was really hard, he was always rejected by others, his existence was compared to that of a plague. As for his father, he never knew him and he never wanted to meet him because he did not consider the individual who had abandoned his pregnant mother, left to her own devices.
Rage built inside him as he thought about the recent turn of events that brought him to this situation. But he only had himself to blame.
And as the night slowly swallowed up his last thoughts, a glimmer of hope rose in the darkness. A glow that would transcend the boundaries of life and death, that would open the way to a new existence. For in that moment of agony, on the threshold of eternal oblivion, as Paul lay there, on the threshold of eternal darkness, images of his past life swirled in his mind, like fragments of broken glass. He sees the moments of happiness and pain, the faces of those he loved, the choices he had made, good or bad. Each memory was like a sharp blade, puncturing his soul already bruised by physical pain.
Suddenly, a strange sensation invaded him, as if his entire being was being sucked into an invisible vortex. A whirlwind of light and shadow enveloped his mind, transporting him to an unknown elsewhere. In this semi-conscious state, he felt an irresistible force pulling him away from his dying body, as if an invisible hand was drawing him toward a new and uncharted destiny.
The sounds of the city slowly faded away, replaced by an oppressive silence. The flashes of light from the street fade away, giving way to a deep, calming darkness. Ryan floated in this ocean of darkness, lost between sleep and wakefulness, between life and death.
When he opened his eyes, he saw only blurred faces and heard muffled voices. Pain radiated from every part of his body. He tried to get up, but his strength was failing him. The blows continued to rain down, relentless, until everything went black.
Death was a deliverance.
—————
Paul didn't know how long he had been in darkness. He woke up suddenly, with a feeling of softness and warmth around him. He was no longer in New York. He was no longer in this sordid alley. Looking around, he realized he was floating in space.
"Where am I ? Am I dead? Yes, I am dead, that's a certainty. But why am I floating like this? Am I in paradise? In hell ?"
The darkness that surrounded him seemed to stretch endlessly, without beginning or end. A luminous mist began to form around him, giving off a soft, calming light. The silence was absolute, almost oppressive, when suddenly, a majestic voice broke the calm.
"Welcome, Paul," the voice rang out, filling the space with its echo. "I am the Entity of Creation, guardian of souls and destinies."
Paul turned his head, searching for the origin of this voice. Before him, a luminous figure emerged from the mist, its form indistinct but unmistakably powerful. The Entity glowed with golden light, its contours fluctuating like waves of pure energy.
"Who are you? What's happening to me?" Paul asked, fear and confusion lacing his voice.
"Unfortunately little soul, you do not have the qualifications to know who I am. All you need to know is that, I am the one who guides souls on their next journey," the Entity replied with comforting gentleness . "Your earthly life has ended, but a new opportunity has been offered to you. You can be reborn in another world, with three wishes to help you in your new life."
Paul was stunned. The idea of being reborn in another world seemed straight out of one of his favorite novels. "Three wishes? And I can choose the world where I want to be reborn?"
"Yes, you can choose," the Entity confirmed. "Take your time to think about what you want most."
Paul thought back to all the works of fiction he had read and watched in his free time. Fantastic worlds and thrilling adventures. A chance to live a new life, with benefits. It was an offer impossible to refuse.
Indeed, during his miserable life on Earth, Paul really liked reading and watching anime, series, films and even manga/manhuas. He had read several hundred of them. So he was spoiled for choice.
"I accept," he finally said, a spark of determination in his eyes.
"Very good," the Entity replied, its light intensifying slightly. "Get ready, Paul. Your new life is about to begin."
And as the light of the Entity completely enveloped him, Paul felt a feeling of peace and excitement invade him. A new adventure awaited him, and this time he was determined to live life to the fullest.