The night was as dark as ink, the city like a colossal beast, panting under the endless glow of neon lights. Tarrant, an ordinary office worker, sat in front of his computer, his eyes bloodshot, his finger slowly gliding on the mouse wheel. He wore thick-rimmed black glasses, his hair was disheveled, and his face was etched with the fatigue of late nights.
On the pitch-black screen, the glaring words "End of Chapter" still flickered, as if mocking something. Tarrant rubbed his sore eyes. He had been pulling all-nighters for three consecutive days, obsessively following this god-awful novel called "Heaven-Defying Rise."
"Damn it, this author is definitely a pervert!" he muttered, clicking the mouse, trying to refresh the author's update page. He was desperate to know what happened next.
"What the hell! Is this author's brain filled with water? This kind of brain-dead plot can even be written? The whole family gets massacred at the beginning, and the protagonist can still be so calm, that's just too absurd! And this villain, so arrogant, so eager to offer himself up for death, so pathetic! He's supposed to be a rich young master, but he doesn't even survive three chapters, a typical cannon fodder!"
Tarrant became more and more agitated as he spoke, and the hand holding the mouse couldn't help but tighten, the mouse wheel squeaking as if protesting his mockery of this trashy novel. He had lost count of how many times he had ranted tonight. In short, the plot of this novel had redefined his understanding of "dog blood."
Just as he was about to close the webpage and go get some sleep, suddenly, the computer screen flickered, and then the lights in the whole room seemed to be swallowed, instantly plunging into boundless darkness. Tarrant felt a splitting headache, a tightness in his chest, and a huge sense of dizziness swept over him.
"No way, could it be?" A sudden alarm bell rang in his head. Before he could react, his consciousness was like a kite with a broken string, falling into an endless abyss.
In the darkness, he felt as if his body was being torn apart, and then reassembled. When he regained consciousness again, he found himself in a completely unfamiliar environment.
It was an extremely luxurious room. The walls were covered with exquisite embroidered silk wallpaper, on which intricate floral patterns were vaguely visible. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, its light refracting in every corner of the room, emitting a soft glow. But at this moment, Tarrant was not in the mood to appreciate it. He struggled to sit up from the soft bed, his head aching as if a truck had run over it, causing him to grimace.
"Where... where am I?" He looked around, his expression gradually changing from confusion to unease.
He found himself sitting on a European-style carved bed. The bed curtains were made of thin gauze, gently fluttering with the soft breeze of the air conditioner, like a fairyland. On a bedside table inlaid with gold trim, there was a bottle of perfume and several open fashion magazines, revealing the owner's pursuit of taste.
This was a woman's room. There was no doubt about it.
Tarrant rubbed his eyes, trying to calm himself. However, when he looked down at himself, a new shock surged into his heart. He found himself wearing a luxurious silk pajama, and he was also wearing a huge jade thumb ring on his hand.
The material of this pajama, the style of this thumb ring... where did he see it before? A trace of doubt flashed in Tarrant's mind. He tried to recall, but he could only think of some vague fragments. It was as if he had seen a similar scene somewhere, but he couldn't remember it clearly.
Just then, a huge flood of information poured into his mind, like a tide washing over his consciousness. Countless fragments of memories emerged, causing his head to ache violently.
These memories did not belong to him!
He was not Tarrant!
He was Joey Forrest!
An arrogant, tyrannical young master of a rich family, and also the cannon fodder villain who receives his death certificate at the beginning of this trashy novel!
"I'm really too into the book. I even thought I was Joey Forrest. Anyone would be better than that cannon fodder." He muttered to himself, struggling to stand up.
The soft wool carpet under his feet made each step feel like he was treading on clouds. The interior decoration was elegant, and several neatly trimmed green plants were placed in the corners, adding a touch of life to this elegant space. A wine cabinet nearby displayed a selection of fine wines and champagnes, and a half-smoked cigar lay on a low table next to it, as if reminding guests that the mistress of the place had an extraordinary social status and taste.
On the gorgeous dressing table, all kinds of brand-name cosmetics were neatly arranged, and small pearls were inlaid around the edge of the mirror, elegant but not lacking in luxury. A photo frame on the dressing table attracted his attention.
Curious, Tarrant walked over and picked up the frame. The woman in the photo turned her head slightly, her eyes sparkling, her delicate eyebrows gently raised, with a hint of languor and nobility. Her deep autumn-like eyes seemed to be able to see through people's hearts, and her lips were lightly pursed, the perfect red as if she had just drunk some grape wine. Her skin was as smooth and flawless as porcelain, with a faint pearl luster in the light. Without heavy makeup, just one glance, one smile, was enough to make people yearn for her and willingly fall for her.
"Who is she?" Tarrant finally regained his senses after staring at the photo for a while and mumbled to himself. On the back of the photo frame, the name "Miss Rose" was written in elegant small letters.
"Rose? This name... seems to be in the novel..." he muttered to himself, and an ominous premonition arose in his heart. He put down the photo frame and unconsciously touched his face. When his fingers touched his cheeks, he could feel his thick eyebrows and smooth skin.
Something was wrong! Something was really wrong!
He accidentally looked up at the mirror on the dressing table, and Tarrant froze. What was reflected in the mirror was not his familiar face.
The man in the mirror had thick, slanted eyebrows, a pair of charming eyes with a hint of wickedness, a high, straight nose, and thin lips pursed slightly. The whole person exuded an arrogant and domineering aura, but was also exceptionally handsome.
He subconsciously wiped the mirror and then moved his body, trying to prove that this was just a problem with the mirror. However, no matter how he moved, the person in the mirror always followed his movements without any deviation. That was him.
"How is this possible?" Tarrant woke up instantly, his hands trembling as he pinched his cheeks. The pain in his face clearly reminded him that all of this was not a dream.
He carefully looked at the strange face in the mirror, and an extreme unease swept through his heart. Suddenly, a name flashed in his mind – Joey Forrest!
Tarrant's heart began to race, and a chill went straight from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. He began to look around the room, trying to find more evidence to verify his inner conjecture.
He quickly walked to the wardrobe, opened the door, and rummaged through the clothes. Soon, he found a wallet in the pocket of a men's shirt. His fingers trembling, he took out the wallet and opened it. The ID card inside clearly showed a name – Joey Forrest.
"This... how is this possible? This is too absurd." He looked at the ID card in disbelief, as if it had burned him, and immediately threw it on the ground.
Tarrant's body trembled involuntarily. He felt his legs were weak and unable to stand, and he staggered and fell to the edge of the bed. His breathing became rapid, and his whole person seemed to have been struck by lightning, his head was blank. Finally, a terrifying thought surfaced in his mind.
"Could it be... Could it be that I've really transmigrated?! And transmigrated into that god-awful novel, becoming the cannon fodder villain Joey Forrest who is destined to be killed?!"
He began to frantically recall the plot of the novel. Joey Forrest, the villain, was simply a walking flag. Not only was he arrogant, but he also stupidly offended the protagonist group, and was eventually plotted against by them, dying a miserable death on the streets.
Thinking of this, Joey Forrest couldn't help but shudder. He felt a chill down his spine. He must not repeat the same mistake, and he must not receive a death flag as easily as in the novel!
He looked around again, looked at the luxurious room, and thought about the dangers he was about to face, and his heart was filled with fear.
"No, I can't just sit around and wait for death! I have to think of a way, I don't want to get a death flag so soon!" Tarrant began to pace anxiously in the room, and the more he thought about Joey Forrest's death-seeking behavior in the novel, the more he felt his scalp tingle. "Why did this cannon fodder have to offend the protagonist group? And so arrogant and conceited! He deserved to be killed!"
The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became. This transmigration thing had actually happened to him. It was more ridiculous than winning the lottery! But now was not the time to complain, he had to calm down and think about what to do next. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.
"Well, I've read millions of words of web novels, I know a little bit about transmigration. The most important thing now is to stay alive, and then find a way to change the plot! Yes, that's it!" Tarrant silently cheered himself up in his heart.
He forced himself to calm down, took a deep breath, and tried to clear his mind. The most important thing right now was to figure out his situation and how to deal with it next.
"If I'm Joey Forrest now, then the woman in the photo is Rose." He quickly pieced together the key information. Rose was one of the most famous socialites in the city. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also good at maneuvering between the wealthy young men. According to the novel's plot, Joey Forrest was often entangled with her, and their relationship was ambiguous.
"So, this should be Rose's villa... Then where is Rose? Where is she now?" Thinking of this, his eyes searched around, trying to find any clues. Inadvertently, he caught a glimpse of the luxury watch on his wrist. The dial clearly showed the date – December 25th.
Tarrant's heart sank suddenly.
In the novel, it was on this evening at 8:00 that Joey Forrest was attacked by enemies and died tragically in Rose's villa. And Rose, from that day on, had disappeared without a trace, her life and death unknown.
"Could it be that Rose has already encountered misfortune?" A chill swept through his heart, and he couldn't help but shiver. In panic, he struggled to his feet and staggered towards the mirror, to confirm himself again.
The face was still incomparably handsome, with sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes, a high nose bridge, and thin lips pursed slightly, exuding an innate sense of sinister arrogance – completely different from his original ordinary face.
He stared at himself in the mirror and sighed helplessly: "It seems that from today on, I am Joey Forrest." There was a trace of helplessness and bitterness in his tone.
"No, I can't just sit around and wait for my death!" he gritted his teeth, clenching his fists tightly. This time, he must change his destiny, no matter what, he couldn't receive a death flag so easily like Joey Forrest in the novel!