It was past midnight, a time when even the shadows seemed to hold their breath. I walked down the poorly lit street, my black hoodie pulled low over my face. At twenty-eight, I'd made quite a name for myself as a contract killer. Perhaps too much of a name. Tonight felt different though - the air was too still, the silence too perfect.
Suddenly, a black van screeched to a halt a few meters ahead. The sound echoed off the empty buildings like a death knell. Five men stepped out, each holding something that gleamed dully in the dim streetlight - metal rods, knives, tools I knew all too well.
The man with red hair said, his voice dripped with satisfaction.
"Finally got you alone~ Been waiting weeks for this chance."
'Shit.'
I turned and ran.
"After him,"
The redhead's voice carried an eager excitement that made my skin crawl.
Damn it. Who leaked my location?
I'd been careful, changed my routines, and trusted no one. Still, my location got exposed, someone had sold me out.
I turned into a dark alley, pressing myself against the cold brick wall. Footsteps approached - quick, overconfident. Amateur. The moment he passed, my blade found his throat, opening it in a clean arc. He didn't even have time to scream.
"One down, four to go," I whispered, more habit than bravado.
"You bastard, die!" Another one charged in, the metal rod whistling through the air with killing intent.
Anger is your biggest enemy.
Words my old man had beaten into me. I ducked under the wild swing, my blade sliced his neck. Blood sprayed like a broken dam, painting the alley walls. He struggled for a few seconds, eyes wide with disbelief, before joining his friend on the ground.
BAM!
As I moved toward the third target, a sharp pain exploded in my left shoulder. The bullet had torn through muscle and bone, rendering my arm useless.
"Fuck!" I gritted my teeth against the pain.
A sniper! They're better prepared than I thought.
The red-haired man's smile widened, showing too many teeth. Another shot rang out, this one from a different angle. My right leg cried in agony, sending me crashing to my knees.
"You're surrounded by snipers," he said, practically purring.
"Boss doesn't take risks anymore, not after what you did to his brother. He made sure today would be your last day."
"Die!"
A knife-wielding thug rushed me, sensing weakness. Amateur mistake. I let his blade sink into my chest, using the momentum to drive my knife into his heart. I twisted the blade, enjoying his screams more than I should have.
"AHHHH!"
"Fuck you, cowards," I spat blood, raising my middle finger in a final act of defiance. At least I'd die the way I lived - on my own terms.
The last thing I saw was the red-haired man's smile as the sniper's bullet turned my world to darkness.
---------
"..."
"W...ake..."
Who's shouting? Just let me sleep.
Sleep? Wait... didn't I die?
My eyes snapped open, immediately assaulted by too-bright sunlight streaming through wooden-framed windows. A beautiful young woman hovered over me, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. Her hair caught the sunlight, creating a halo effect that seemed almost divine.
'Am I in heaven?'
Seeing my eyes open, she collapsed onto my chest with a sob of relief.
"Thank god, you're alive!" Her voice cracked with emotion.
Who is she? Where am I?
Questions swirled like autumn leaves in my mind. But wherever this was, the soft warmth pressed against my chest felt real enough. If I could feel, hear, and see, then death had apparently given me a rain check.
Hospital? No - the rough wooden ceiling above definitely wasn't standard medical decor.
"Mira, you should let him rest. Don't put your weight on him."
A smoothing, mature voice drew my attention as the crying woman reluctantly pulled away. Standing near the bed was an older woman who could only be described as art-given life. Her face held the kind of beauty that time had only enhanced - long black hair framed elegant features, and bright emerald eyes sparkled with a mixture of worry and relief.
Looking back at Mira, who had finally sat up, I could see the resemblance. She shared her mother's striking features - those same captivating emerald eyes, though hers held a younger, more innocent light. Both women possessed the kind of beauty that would make professional models consider career changes.
"Your mother is right," a new voice added. "Please let him rest. He only hurt his head. With the potion I've provided, he should recover in a few days"
The grey-haired man marked him as some kind of doctor, though something about the word 'potion' nagged at my mind. Before I could puzzle it out, an overwhelming exhaustion swept over me, and I slipped back into darkness.
----------
I woke again hours later, the same wooden ceiling greeting me.
So it wasn't a dream after all.
Sitting up carefully, I studied the room. A small wooden table sat beneath a window that looked out over what appeared to be farmland. Books, papers, and an ink pot - actual ink, not a pen - cluttered the surface, along with a photo frame containing the photo of a young man, woman and a child that I didn't recognize.
What's with all these memories flooding in?
Strange recollections, none of them mine, swirled through my mind like leaves in a whirlpool. Rising on unsteady legs, I made my way to a mirror mounted on the wall.
The face that greeted me confirmed everything - this wasn't my body. The pieces clicked into place with terrifying clarity.
I've actually transmigrated to another world, just like those web novels I used to read between jobs.
It made perfect sense - no one survives a headshot by a sniper bullet. According to the memories slowly settling in my mind, this body's previous owner had met his end in a farming accident - a simple slip, a head wound, and that was it.
Well, he got an easier death than I did. May his soul rest in peace.
"I'll make good use of your body," I promised my reflection, the words feeling strangely formal in this quiet room.
Just as I was contemplating the irony of a contract killer getting a chance at an honest life, reality decided to throw me another curveball. A translucent window materialized in front of me, glowing with a light.
[Forming connection...]
[30%]
[70%]
[Connection established]
[Hello, Adventurer]
[I'm your guide who will explain the path of your life.]
"Path of my life?"
[Yup. Did you expect that you would get a new life for free? We're not running a charity here.]
[But you have to.]
"I have to run a charity?" I asked, already annoyed by the system's roundabout way of speaking.
[Nope.]
"Talk straight, don't fuck around you bitch," I snapped, old habits dying hard.
[You are a rude asshole. And aren't you way too calm for someone who just transmigrated to another world?]
"That's my business. Now stop wasting my time and tell me what I need to know."
[You bastard. You have to create a cult.]
"And?" I waited for the catch.
[That's it. You just have to form a cult and run it.]
"Do I get any powers? Hypnosis? Magic charms? Anything useful?"
[Nope.]
"Some sort of artifact with those effects?"
[Nothing. Get your ass to work.]
"You're doing this just because I called you a bitch, which you are."
[WHY YOU- If it had been up to me, I would have killed you already.]
"Then tell me why the cult? Why nothing else?"
[I don't know that.]
"Why was I chosen for transmigration?"
[The council members voted for you unanimously from their list of most insane people. They all agreed you were the most unhinged person for this job.]
"Council members?"
[That's all I'm telling you. I hope we never meet again, asshole.]
[Oh, and one last thing - you can't go back to your previous life even if you complete all the quests.]
"I don't want to go back. This is my new life."
[Connection terminated.]
A new system screen appeared before me:
[Prove Your Worth]
Mission:
1) Create a cult
2) Get 100 people to join the cult
3) Get validation from the Council members
Time: 6 months
*Failure will result in a painful death.
(System: Hope you get a painful death ^.^)]
'Prove my worth?'
This is absolutely insane.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"Hahaha!"
"This is going to be fun."