As the sun set, a mysterious twilight enveloped the city in its embrace. The occasional chirp of a bird or the rustle of the wind broke the stillness, as if nature itself stood in awe of the moment's beauty.
The shadows cast by towering buildings stretched endlessly, deepening the already gloomy sky. By midnight, the moon emerged among a sea of stars, casting its silver glow over the city. Chilly gusts swept through the deserted streets, where only a handful of people wandered, and most stores had closed for the night.
The dim streetlights flickered faintly, their unreliable glow making it hard to see objects in the distance. Suddenly, the loud barking of a dog echoed through the empty streets, growing louder with each passing moment. It was difficult to pinpoint its source, but it sounded distant, as though carried by the wind.
From time to time, a car would speed past, breaking the serenity of the moment. Amid this stillness, a lone figure stumbled down the quiet street—a young man who stood out like the moon among stars.
He appeared to be in his early twenties, the type of person who had only recently stepped into adulthood, burdened by responsibilities and the dream of one day contributing to society. Though he wasn't conventionally handsome, there was a charm in his features—hidden beneath the fatigue and the heavy dark circles under his eyes. His weary face told the story of countless sleepless nights.
His attire and demeanor suggested he had just left work, trudging toward home after yet another exhausting day.
Checking his wristwatch, the man frowned. The hour and minute hands were frozen in place, stubbornly stuck at one moment. Frustrated, he shook it and pressed its buttons, but the watch refused to budge.
"Useless," he muttered under his breath.
Pulling out his smartphone, the bright screen displayed the time: 11:50 PM.
A small smile formed on his lips as he remembered, "From tomorrow, my vacation starts." The thought alone was enough to bring him a rare moment of joy.
For most people, a vacation might not seem like such a big deal. But for Ren, a 23-year-old employee in a soul-sucking corporation, it was nothing short of a miracle.
As his phone rang, the familiar ringtone broke his train of thought. "I will live as I want to live..." played softly as he answered the call.
"Hello, Boss," Ren greeted politely, already expecting the reason for the late-night call.
"Ren, the thing is..." his boss began. For a brief moment, Ren's heart raced with dread. But as he listened to the rest of the conversation, relief washed over him.
"Thank you, Boss," Ren said with a grin. He hung up, feeling like he was on cloud nine. Not only had his vacation been confirmed, but the company had also agreed to sponsor it.
As he walked, his phone buzzed repeatedly, notifying him of messages in the company's group chat. Scrolling through the flurry of messages, he couldn't help but smile bitterly. His colleagues were excitedly making plans with their families, while Ren was alone.
He had no one to share his happiness with—not a family, not even friends. Ren was an orphan, raised in an institution where he learned early on that no one would come to rescue him.
For years, he had convinced himself that he didn't care. Yet, every festival season, he couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness as he watched others celebrate with their loved ones.
"If they cared about me, they wouldn't have abandoned me," Ren often thought. He tried to bury these feelings under layers of work and responsibilities, telling himself that time heals all wounds. And perhaps, to some extent, it did.
His childhood solace had been novels. While the other kids played, he found himself immersed in fictional worlds. He had particularly resonated with one middle-tier antagonist who shared his pain of being abandoned. When that character met an unjust end, Ren stopped reading the book altogether.
"Maybe I should've finished it," he mused bitterly. "I could've written the author a complaint."
As he scrolled through the group chat, the messages reminded him of his loneliness once again. "Friends, huh?" he murmured. Ren had many acquaintances but no one he could confidently call a friend.
His monotonous life revolved around work. Even when he had hobbies, they were overshadowed by the grind of his corporate job. Yet, quitting wasn't an option. This job, as soul-crushing as it was, paid his bills and kept him afloat in a city where everything came at a price.
As Ren trudged on, he spotted a bus in the distance and broke into a run. His legs flailed, his arms swung wildly, and for a brief moment, he looked like a man possessed. But despite his efforts, he missed it.
"Why me?" he sighed. With no other choice, he began walking in the hope of finding a taxi.
The dim streetlights flickered as a chilling wind brushed past him. The quiet was comforting yet eerily reflective of his own life—empty, directionless, and lonely.
Suddenly, a loud rumble disrupted the silence. Ren turned to see a truck barreling toward him. Its headlights glared like two furious suns.
BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.
"Seriously? A truck at this hour?" Ren muttered, annoyed.
As the vehicle drew closer, panic gripped him. He couldn't move.
The world slowed down.
The next thing Ren knew, he was flying through the air, his body weightless as though gravity had abandoned him.
"So this is how it ends…" he thought, oddly calm. A chuckle escaped his lips. "Am I going to bne isekai'd now? Maybe I'll become a hero or… no, probably not. I'll probably wake up in another grind, just like this one."
As his consciousness faded, a single thought lingered in his mind: "At least I'll finally get some rest."