Chapter 2: No Way Out

When I transmigrated, it was a stormy night. My head spun, my eyes sticky with blood.

In my ears, I heard the rough curses of several men:

"Damn it, Will, you dragged us out here for a good time, and now look—you got someone killed."

"How was I supposed to know she'd go headfirst into the wall? Girl's got a baby face but a skull like concrete."

"Hey, look, she’s not totally dead yet—she’s still breathing."

"Quick, toss her back in the cell. If she dies here, the warden’ll have our hides."

They dragged me away and dumped me on the ground. Dust and straw filled my nose.

I didn’t dare cough too hard—my head was splitting.

With effort, I pried open one eye and looked around.

Three walls, one set of iron bars, dirty straw covering the floor, a couple mice curled up in the corner squeaking.

Ha! What a way to start.

I tried calling out:

"System?"

"Fate?"

"Transmigration Agency?"

Figures. The one time I want customer service, nobody picks up. No voice answered me.

Damn it. I was a decent person in my last life, did good deeds—what kind of jerk steals a manhole cover on a rainy night, making me fall in and lose my life? Who the hell steals a manhole cover on a rainy night? Some idiot leaves it open, I fall in, and now someone’s out there with my blood on their tires. Karma, my ass.

Some people get hit by lightning, some people fall asleep and just wake up elsewhere, but me? My end came courtesy of a city works department who couldn't keep track of their inventory. So much for karma.