[System: And just how do you plan to do that, Host?]
The blue screen hovered in the darkness, illuminating the miserable reality of Ren's situation.
[System: You are currently located in a muddy pit. There is a grate made of logs heavier than your entire body weight secured overhead. You are naked. You have the flu. Your muscle mass is currently comparable to a wet noodle. Escape is a delusion.]
The System didn't share Ren's sudden burst of optimism. As a matter of fact, it had fully embraced the role of the Voice of Doom.
[System: Just give up. If you die here, maybe you will be transmigrated again. Perhaps to a modern world with central heating and antibiotics. Doesn't that sound nice? Just let go, Host. Go into the light.]
"Shut up," Ren chattered, her teeth clicking together. "I am not dying in a hole filled with poop-water."
She pulled out her silver lighter from the inventory.
Flick.
A tiny, dancing flame erupted, casting long, eerie shadows against the wet earth walls.
