You ever wake up in a pile of trash, with the taste of blood in your mouth, and realize your life has gone to complete shit? No? Just me?

I opened my eyes, blinking through the haze of pain in my skull, and tried to sit up. Something scurried over my leg—probably a rat—and I nearly gagged. The stink of garbage and piss was overwhelming. For a second, I thought maybe I was in Hell. That would've made sense, except Hell would at least be warm.

This place? Cold as fuck.

I forced myself up, leaning on a dumpster, my head spinning. It took a second to register where I was. Not Hell. Worse. Gotham fucking City.

"Shit. This can't be happening."

I rubbed my temples, trying to piece together how the hell I ended up here. Last thing I remembered was—yeah, getting smoked by a truck. That much I was sure of. The rest was blurry, like a bad fever dream. But now I was here, in a fucking comic book city, and it was dark. Real dark. Not just the lack of streetlights—though that wasn't helping—but the whole vibe. Like, this city breathed crime.

I let out a long breath, my mind racing. "Okay, don't panic. Think, Ethan. Think. First things first, figure out where the fuck you are."

I stumbled out of the alley, the air thick with grime, smoke, and misery. Gotham. Of all the places I could've reincarnated, I got dropped into the worst hellhole imaginable. Great. Fucking great.

Before I could even start thinking of a plan, a ding sounded in my head.

[Resident Evil System Activated.]

I blinked, hard. "What the hell?"

A screen—yes, an actual floating screen—popped up in front of me. I stared at it, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

[Welcome, Player. You have been granted the Resident Evil System.]

The fuck? Resident Evil? Like, the video game? The one with the zombies and the monsters?

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Another ding.

[First Mission: Survive the Night.]

Before I could even curse at this nightmare situation, I heard footsteps. Not the friendly kind. The 'you're about to get mugged or worse' kind.

I looked up and saw him—a tall dude, face half-hidden under a hoodie, coming straight for me with a gun. Of fucking course.

"Hey, man, I don't want any trouble," I said, raising my hands.

"Yeah, well, trouble found you," he growled, pulling the gun from his waistband.

My stomach dropped. This was it. Barely five minutes in Gotham, and I was about to get shot in some filthy alley. The guy stepped closer, aiming the gun right at my chest.

Ding.

[Skill Unlocked: Gun Disarmament.]

"What the fuck?"

I didn't even have time to process it before my body moved on its own. My hand shot out, grabbed his wrist, twisted hard, and the gun slipped from his grip like it was nothing.

"What the—" The guy stumbled back, clutching his arm, but I didn't stop. Something in me snapped. All the anger, the fear, the confusion—it all boiled over, and before I knew it, I had the gun aimed at his head.

He looked up at me, sneering through the pain. "You think you're tough? This city's gonna chew you up and spit you out, kid."

I swallowed, my heart racing. My hands were shaking, but I tightened my grip on the gun. He lunged at me, and without thinking, I pulled the trigger.

The bang echoed in the alley, and he dropped like a sack of bricks, blood pooling around him.

For a second, I just stood there, staring at the body. The gun felt heavy in my hand, the reality of what I'd just done sinking in like a lead weight in my gut. I'd just killed a man.

Ding.

[Mission Complete: Kill or Be Killed.]

I wanted to throw up. My mind was spinning, trying to justify what I'd just done. It was him or me, right? Right?

But before I could even catch my breath, I heard sirens. They were closing in fast. "Shit." I dropped the gun and bolted, my feet pounding against the cracked pavement as I ran.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I muttered to myself, heart racing.

I spotted a fire escape and jumped, grabbing the rusty ladder. My muscles screamed in protest as I hauled myself up, just barely making it onto the rooftop. The sirens were louder now, cops swarming the alley like flies on a corpse. I peeked over the edge of the roof and saw them down below, flashlights cutting through the dark as they found the body.

Great. Just great.

I backed away from the edge, trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do now. Survive the night? The fuck kind of mission was that? In Gotham?

I sat down, leaning against a vent, trying to catch my breath. The system dinged again.

[First Kill Accomplished: Strength and Agility Increased.]

"Fucking hell, I'm in it now."

I looked up at the sky, the clouds hanging low like they were ready to suffocate the city. Gotham wasn't just dark; it was rotten. A cesspool of crime, corruption, and psychos in clown makeup. And I was stuck here, with nothing but a fucked-up video game system in my head and a body count already started.

Another ding.

[New Mission: Survive the Night.]

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "Yeah, no shit. I'm so fucked."