A somber sky shrouded the entire city.
Pedestrians could be seen moving everywhere along the streets, while acrid scents drifted through the air.
People moved through the streets and alleys with numb expressions.
No one spoke; though the crowds were dense, it was so quiet it was terrifying.
“Cough, cough!”
Naiyuan wove through the crowd.
Garbage was strewn across the dilapidated streets, and the foul-smelling smog constantly irritated his lungs.
His gaunt frame and bloodless face made him look like he might collapse at any moment—an event that wouldn’t surprise anyone, as such things happened every day.
Clutching a monthly limited-edition half-priced bento he had finally managed to snag from the supermarket, Naiyuan quickened his pace.
The smog was a constant torment to his body.
He needed to get home quickly.
After crossing several densely populated streets, a dilapidated apartment building came into view.
That was his destination.
Arriving at the apartment door, Naiyuan turned his gaze toward the door next to his.
It belonged to his neighbor, who was also one of his few friends.
He tapped lightly on the door a few times, but there was no response.
“Working overtime again?”
After a brief wait, seeing that no one was coming to open the door, Naiyuan sighed and returned to his own home.
It seemed his neighbor had been squeezed into staying late for overtime again.
The room’s layout was simple: just a bed, a toilet, and a conspicuous VR helmet.
There was nothing else, save for a shared washing machine out in the hallway.
There was no kitchen.
For someone like him who worked frantic overtime, a kitchen was entirely unnecessary.
To save on rent, he had specifically sought out this apartment.
“Phew!”
Naiyuan took a deep breath.
Although the air inside still carried a faint odor, it was much better than outside—at least enough to stop his head from spinning.
“Sigh, I hope I didn’t bet wrong.
Otherwise, there really is no way out,” Naiyuan sighed as he carefully washed his exposed skin.
The air outside was saturated with toxic gases and dust.
Long-term exposure was extremely hazardous.
To ensure he wouldn’t just drop dead one day without knowing why, he had to wipe himself down immediately.
He could have bought a gas mask, but he hadn’t.
Every cent he earned from his grueling labor and overtime went into a game called *Yggdrasil*, leaving him with only the bare minimum required to survive.
Fortunately, his workplace was equipped with air purifiers.
Aside from the discomfort of his commute, he managed to get by.
Sitting on the bed, Naiyuan slowly opened his monthly limited mixed bento.
He ate his hard-earned dinner with slow, deliberate bites, a faint smile appearing on his face.
Though the taste wasn’t great, it was better than nutritional paste.
Only at times like this did he feel truly alive.
This world wasn’t the apocalypse, yet it was no different from one.
The statement might have been contradictory, but it was his most honest thought after all these years.
The world had been polluted.
Because of the wars that had broken out, humanity had finally reaped its retribution.
The air reeked, the rivers grew turbid, and the land became desolate…
By the time people looked back, they realized it was too late to change anything.
Even a breath of fresh air had become a luxury.
War had lost its meaning; no hatred could take precedence over survival.
The green of plants had vanished from sight, animals had died out in massive numbers due to the environment, prices skyrocketed, and crime occurred frequently…
The high-and-mighty capitalists continuously squeezed everything they could from ordinary people.
They knew how to maintain a balance.
On one hand, they fed the people visions of a nebulous future; on the other, they constantly indoctrinated them with a numbing sense of reality.
By the time people realized what was happening, it was too late, for they found they had already grown accustomed to their despair.
No will to resist, no will to think—just drifting through each day.
Naiyuan ate his cold bento while looking at the calendar hanging on the wall.
The calendar was filled with dates circled and marked in red ink—the schedules for various in-game events.
The date for the day after tomorrow, however, was marked with a large ‘X’ to signify its ultimate importance.
It had been 28 years since he transmigrated into this world.
Memories of his past life had become blurry.
He didn’t know why he had transmigrated; he only remembered that he had been playing a certain “Genshin” game, cursed the developers a few times, and then lost consciousness.
When he woke up again, he was an infant abandoned in an alleyway to fend for himself.
Fortunately, his survival instinct had driven him to cry out repeatedly, successfully attracting someone’s attention.
Only then did he avoid achieving the “Death Upon Transmigration” achievement.
The person who adopted him was a middle-aged man.
According to what he learned after growing up, the man’s wife had cheated on him.
When the man returned home, the two were messing around in his bed.
They noticed him, but instead of hiding it, they seemed to get even more excited.
They didn’t care about him at all.
Afterward, the man’s wife’s lover casually tossed him a card and left with his wife.
His wife didn’t look back once—perhaps out of shame, or perhaps out of disdain.
The man hadn’t lifted a finger; he just numbly watched their retreating backs.
A few years earlier, he might have been furious, cursed them for their shamelessness, and fought them, but he no longer had that impulse.
In fact, after checking the balance on the card, he even felt a slight sense of joy.
Perhaps it was because they knew he wouldn’t act that they had behaved so brazenly.
That night, in an alley filled with foul smells, the man had been walking unsteadily, pouring beer into his mouth.
He wandered aimlessly with a heart full of complex emotions until Naiyuan’s voice caught his attention.
He staggered over and looked at the abandoned child.
Suddenly, a sense of shared misfortune welled up in his heart.
“Have you been abandoned just like me?
Don’t be afraid, I’ll take you home.”
As if he had found a kindred spirit, the man threw away his beer bottle and tremblingly picked up the child.
Looking at the child in his arms, who was staring at him with big, smiling eyes, all the irritability in his heart seemed to vanish.
A faint smile finally broke through his haggard face.
On his first day of transmigration, he was adopted under the gaze of fate.
The man’s name was Kamiochi Yayoi, so he was named Kamiochi Naiyuan.
Having found a hope and purpose in life, Kamiochi Yayoi changed his old ways and threw himself actively into his work.
He was no longer living just for himself.
In this atmosphere, time quietly slipped away, and over a decade passed in the blink of an eye.
When Naiyuan was twelve, Kamiochi Yayoi passed away.
Long hours of work and overtime had pushed the man’s body to its limit.
In truth, he had money, but he hadn’t wanted to use *that* money.
To the very end, Naiyuan remembered the smiling expression on his face.
“Naiyuan, my life was a tragedy.
I experienced my wife’s betrayal, the exploitation of society, and the ridicule of friends and family…
but the only thing that made me feel truly alive was your arrival.
The most correct decision of my life was adopting you.”
“Don’t be sad.
My life has no regrets.
I kept this card for a lifetime; the money inside should be enough for you to live comfortably if you use it sparingly.
Now, I give it to you.
Naiyuan, my child, you must live happily.”
Recalling the images in his mind, Naiyuan’s expression grew complex.
Without a doubt, the man had been a qualified father, caring for him devotedly for over a decade and even setting aside his pride at the end to give him the card.
“Father, I will definitely live well!”