Não, eu apenas redimo, não me sacrifico [Transmigração Rápida]

— Forty miles further north lies Mount Huo, where the trees bear abundant grain. There is a beast there, resembling a civet but with a white tail and a mane, called Feifei; raising one can relieve sorrow.

When Zhu Shiyan opened his eyes and woke up, all he saw was emptiness. He paused, glanced down at his hand, and wore a bewildered expression.

Hadn't he died in a car accident? How was he here?

Was this... heaven?

[You have awakened.]

A line of words suddenly appeared before him, just like in the movies—materializing out of thin air, then dissolving into specks of dust. Before Zhu Shiyan could ask anything, another sentence followed.

[You are already dead.]

A pang tightened in his chest. Though he had expected this, hearing it confirmed still brought a trace of sadness. Pressing his hand to his chest to suppress the discomfort, he asked, “Where am I? And who are you?”

The words didn’t answer but instead posed a question: [Do you wish to be resurrected?]

“No,” Zhu Shiyan replied decisively.

After a two-second silence, another line appeared.

[The world awaits your salvation.]

Zhu Shiyan frowned. “What a joke.”

He was just an ordinary office worker. If the world were to end, let it end—what did it have to do with him?

“Just send me to reincarnate quickly, thanks.”

The boundless white space rippled with instability, as if surprised by his response, then the next words appeared.

[You are the chosen one; you must fulfill your mission to be reborn.]

“And if I refuse?”