Chapter One: Prologue

A new café had just opened in the center of W City, its renovations completed, with workers making the final arrangements inside. In the meticulously cultivated little garden outside, a few elegant chairs were arrayed, paired with matching tables, exuding the distinctive British style of the Industrial Revolution era.

Truth be told, Gao Ning wasn’t fond of such chairs. They certainly pleased the eye, but the thinly padded iron seat was far from friendly to someone of his size. He’d barely sat for ten minutes, still tallying up the remaining construction expenses, when the chill seeped into him, making his backside uncomfortably cold.

It was already November, and at thirty degrees north latitude, W City was well into its cold season. Only the sea breeze imparted a false sense of warmth amidst the mingling coastal air.

“Hsss—”

Gao Ning shivered violently and instinctively stamped his feet. The deceptive morning sunlight had fooled his senses, convincing him to stow his prepared jacket back in the wardrobe.

Gao Ning, two years out of university, a civil engineering major. He’d intended to pursue architecture, but ended up as a junior supervisor at a renovation company—a position not too far removed from his aspirations. Supervising construction wasn’t difficult; the routines were familiar, and as long as he paid attention and kept a good rapport with the workers, nothing much ever went wrong.

But the accounting was a nightmare. Every day, every month, every year—numbers upon numbers. Gao Ning dreaded them now; just a dozen receipts and reimbursement slips had kept him busy for ages.

He glanced at the laptop beside him, paused on a Red Alert skirmish. This was a special mod he’d dug up from a forum: “Assaulting Paratroopers.” Rumor had it some genius had created it.

As a die-hard fan of Red Alert 2, Gao Ning had hunted it down, intending to try it after finishing his work, but the paperwork still hadn’t been sorted.

He gulped down a mouthful of cold coffee, smacked his lips, and resumed scribbling in his notebook.

Better get the job done first!

People said there was a whole science behind coffee, especially hand-brewed varieties, with the flavor changing dramatically depending on the beans’ origin, roasting, and brewing methods—dozens of grades, apparently.

Gao Ning couldn’t comprehend it. Every coffee tasted much the same to him—sometimes creamier, sometimes less bitter, but any subtle distinctions were lost on him.

This café claimed to be an Italian brand, boasting coffee machines worth hundreds of thousands, projecting an air of sophistication; yet the taste was no different.

It was always the same flavor!

Suddenly, a man sat down across from Gao Ning.

“Long time no see, Gao Ning. Still haven’t left W City? Hasn’t your family urged you countless times? What did Auntie say?”

Gao Ning looked up in surprise. “Brother?”

Then he shook his head. “No, who are you?”

The man smiled warmly, but his eyes held no warmth at all.

“Aren’t I your brother?”

Gao Ning eyed him, leaning forward again. “At first glance, you do look a lot like him. But my brother got burned in a fire two years ago—his face still bears scars from the surgery. Besides, as a minor chief at the fire department, he wouldn’t just skip work to hang out with me.

We may be brothers, but we’re not all that close. Still, your special effects makeup is impressively realistic.”

He clicked his tongue as he looked the man over.

The man laughed softly. “Alright, special effects makeup it is. Over the years, I’ve had all sorts of reactions when I approach people—some surprised, others terrified. But few are as calm as you.

If possible, I’d like to talk with you a bit more.”

“Hm?” Gao Ning was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re out of time!” The man smiled, pointing upward.

Gao Ning looked up, heard a cry nearby, and then everything went black.

The man crossed his legs, sitting there as the cement wall crashed down, narrowly missing his nose and burying the chairs and awning in front of him.

The workers rushed over, shouting, “Something’s happened—Supervisor Gao’s been hit by the wall! Somebody, hurry! Quick, quick, quick! Ambulance, call 120! Damn, what a mess! Why are you just standing there? Help out!”

A crowd surged forward, haphazardly lending a hand. Some broke into a sweat, others looked bewildered, while a few spun in circles, unsure what to do. One young man stood off in the distance, clutching a sledgehammer and trembling like a plucked quail.

He was the one who had brought the wall down.

Amid the chaos, the man rose leisurely, showing no surprise at the calamity before him, even pausing to smooth his hair in the mirror and adjust his suit collar.

Normally, someone like him would stand out in such a place, yet the rescuers seemed not to notice him at all—some even passed right through his body.

The man seemed used to this, watching the spot where Gao Ning was buried, murmuring softly:

“By unspoken custom, I ought to recount your life for you before you depart. But I find myself in no mood.

In my realm, death is death, life is life. Since you’re already dying, it’s best to sever all ties and start anew, cleanly and decisively. Useless attachments only breed trouble and resentment.

They won’t serve your new life well. Hmm…”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s been five minutes. I suppose you’re somewhat aware of your situation by now. So come along, don’t waste time—I’m quite busy, thirteen others are waiting for me today.”

With these words, no one responded.

At the street corner, an ambulance sped toward them, siren blaring, followed by a fire truck.

The accident in the city center had alerted the nearby fire station.

Seconds ticked by; the ambulance was almost on site, but nothing stirred beneath the wall.

The man frowned, puzzled. “Don’t struggle pointlessly. Everyone must go through this step. Hurry up and come with me…”

He broke off, his expression suddenly changing. He strode forward, passing through several workers as if a phantom, stopping where Gao Ning had been.

He bent down, reached into the rubble.

Nothing.

His face darkened. “Damn it, how could he be gone? Someone interfering with reincarnation again? No, that’s impossible—the agreement was just signed, the documents delivered. No one would dare break the rules at such a crucial moment. Could it be… Damn it! I’m only three years from retirement! Are they playing with me? Looks like I’ll have to use the precious item I’ve been saving. Damn!”

Something seemed to occur to him; his face grew even grimmer. He stamped his foot and vanished.

No one noticed him; the firefighters rushed in, expertly wielding their tools to rescue. The workers were herded to the perimeter; most were shaken, but not one left. They craned their necks, muttering:

“Tsk, tsk. What a tragedy. Supervisor Gao was a good guy, a college graduate, even had a girlfriend, they say. Gone so suddenly—what a pity, what a pity…”