Year 2014.
Far East, Nagazora City.
The curtain-like sky wrinkled, blooming with ripples of orange-red, and the mid-spring sun, faintly emitting a warm glow, wearily closed its eyes and quietly sank westward into the horizon, a sight that could be called breathtaking.
Shifting the gaze downward, beneath this breathtaking sunset was a scene of purgatory on earth.
Towering skyscrapers turned into ruins, and scattered explosions sent out raging fires, amidst which the shrill, uniquely female wails echoed endlessly.
The shattered roads bore cars mangled into wrecks, while flesh and corpses beyond recognition piled up and scattered about, adorning it all.
Bizarre beasts and humanoid monsters covered in purple patterns ran amok, trampling everything underfoot.
The smell of gunpowder and blood permeating the air collided, giving birth to a visible death.
Beneath the broken walls and ruins, a dying black-haired youth leaned weakly against the wall, his expression extremely painful.
Standing at one meter eighty, he wore a blood-stained white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, paired with black trousers and matching canvas shoes.
His ink-like short, broken hair was soft and glossy, with a well-defined jawline on an oval face, a high nose bridge, and thin lips.
A pair of eyes, like glazed ink reflecting spring light, occasionally dilated, while the faint dark circles beneath them added a rare sense of fragility.
Perhaps affected by the surrounding environment, his skin was pale, and several purple patterns spread across his face.
Even so, he was worthy of being called a heavenly being descended to earth.
Lucien, 18 years old, is a transmigrator.
To be precise, a transmigrator who is about to die.
The cause of his transmigration was probably blinking while choosing a school after the college entrance examination, and then ending up in this cursed, wretched place.
By the time Lucien transmigrated, the world before him was already in this tragic state.
Before he could even think, his body seemed to experience an immune rejection with the world, its oil running dry in the blink of an eye, turning into what it was now.
From the time he transmigrated until now, the only thing he had done should be biting his teeth and enduring the pain of being skinned and boned without uttering a single sound, holding on until now.
Lucien thought this, twitching the corners of his mouth as his breathing grew weaker and weaker.
Just then, a humanoid monster wielding double blades, escorted by several giant mosquito-like bizarre beasts, passed by Lucien’s side.
That humanoid monster’s gaze met Lucien’s dead-on.
“…” Lucien didn’t dare to breathe a word, feeling his already weak heartbeat violently stutter.
One second, two seconds, three seconds.
A full three seconds passed before the humanoid monster withdrew its gaze and stepped forward.
Perhaps heaven took pity, or perhaps they had long regarded Lucien as one of their own; in short, Lucien was not killed by them, and even used this to determine the current world.
Death Soldier, Honkai Beast, this is the world of Honkai.
Lucien thought this, his flickering gaze gradually dissipating; clearly, he couldn’t hold on anymore.
He had been holding on until now purely on a breath of willpower, and upon knowing the current world was Honkai, that breath instantly dissipated.
As everyone knows, the world of the Honkai current civilization practices gender discrimination; females still have a way to live, while most ordinary males die without even a scrap left.
Under such a worldview, what does a male transmigrator mean?
It means it’s over, completely and utterly over!
There’s no need to think about what to do; just let Honkai cheerfully send him off.
How pathetic…
If there really is a next life, I hope I can live more wonderfully…
Lucien didn’t even have the strength for a flashback, feeling his eyelids grow heavier and heavier until they closed completely, unable to open again.
“Ding—”
Not long after Lucien lost consciousness, a crisp and pleasant notification sound suddenly rang out.
At the same time, a sci-fi-filled panel appeared before him.
[System is loading, current progress: one percent…]
Followed by a cute, breathless, and sweet female voice, “Made it, made it!
Hello Host, the Life Simulation System wholeheartedly…
Eh!?”
Looking at Lucien, who had more breath going out than coming in, the system dazed for a moment before understanding what had happened, and then couldn’t help but let out a wail:
“My Host!
The Host I spent a full three years picking out!
Sniff, wuwuwu~” .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·.
Good grief, making her live with lifelong regrets, huh?
[System is loading, current progress: three percent…]
“Hum—”
Suddenly, the loading panel before Lucien looked as if someone had smashed it, violently scrambling a ring of data streams.
“Stop loading already!
My Host is about to be gone and you’re still giving me this loading ritual, simulate quickly, hurry up and simulate for me.” The system about to live with lifelong regrets cried out thus.
[System loading complete, initiating simulation.]
Middle Ages, Europe.
Lucien found himself in a dark alley, looked at his intact body, and then looked up at the scenic, sunny weather and bustling crowd outside the alley, momentarily not knowing what expression to make.
The next life came too fast, just like a tornado.
“System, I can call you that, right?”
“Are you saying that because you were too excited about taking office as an official system, you slept very late last night, resulting in being late today and missing my accidental transmigration?”
“Um, pretty much like that…”
The system’s voice was low and soft, clearly very embarrassed.
(,,>﹏<,,)
After all, in her view, it was because she was late that Lucien was on the verge of death in the real world, and could only prolong his life by forcibly initiating the simulation.
But Lucien didn’t see it that way; what good transmigrator could withstand something like Honkai Energy erosion?
As long as his transmigration location remained unchanged, no matter how early or late the system arrived, there was likely no room to maneuver.
Now he cared more about another matter, “Is there a beginner’s gift pack?”
“Yes!” The system’s voice suddenly pitched up, becoming cheerful, “I prepared so many good things for the Host, they are right there, right there…?”
Her originally high-pitched tone kept dropping until falling silent, leaving only the sound of rummaging through objects lingering in Lucien’s ears.
It had that kind of aesthetic—being checked for homework by a teacher in class, confidently saying you wrote it, but being unable to find where the homework is no matter what.
Just listening to the sound was enough to make one sweat profusely.
After a long while, the system finally stopped struggling and explained with a crying voice:
“I originally packed them and put them on the desk, but, but I left in a hurry today and forgot to bring them…” (╥﹏╥)
Hearing this, Lucien wiped his face with his hand and suddenly laughed out loud.
Anyway, it was quite unlucky, whether it was him or the system.
Things having reached this point, apart from helplessness, he still had no intention of blaming the system.
It wasn’t that his personality was good enough to unconditionally tolerate others’ mistakes, but rather because the system pulled him into the simulation giving him a chance to live another life, which could somewhat be considered a favor akin to rebirth.
The words he wanted to say were too aggressive and really not suitable to use on the system.
Besides, it wasn’t like there wasn’t a guy even more unlucky than him and the system.