The store was quiet.
Too quiet
Yang Xuan leaned against the counter, lazily scrolling through his phone, the faint hum of fluorescent lights filling the empty space. It was just another slow shift. Another forgettable day.
A half-finished cultivation novel could be seen on his screen.
Sects, realms, betrayals, power struggles, and deaths.
He snorted indignantly.
"Are all the novels the same? I want something unique, refreshing."
For someone like him, the stories that he reads are all he has. Yang Xuan did try socializing, but he found it troublesome; he dosen't like small talk, and when it comes to relationships, he is very blunt and insensitive, and so he had a hard time dating.
A cashier. That was all he was.
No ambitions. No family. Just work, eat, read, sleep. Repeat.
Simple, safe. Boring.
He kept scrolling through the story.
The protagonist had just broken through another realm, but was stabbed in the back by his master in the last moment. Yang Xuan stared at the lines for a moment, then shook his head.
"That's pretty messed up."
He muttered.
The bell above the door rang.
A sharp, metallic sound that cut through the silence.
Yang Xuan didn't even look up at first.
"welcome—"
The words died in his throat.
When he looked up, he saw a man clad in black from head to toe with a mask on his face; he had a bad feeling about this customer.
The man briefly checked the store to make sure there were no witnesses, and slowly made his way toward the counter, took out his gun, and pointed it at him.
"Hey..."
The man's voice was calm.
"...Don't move, this is a robbery."
Yang Xuan seemed to remain calm, but inwardly, he was anything but that. In a moment, a thousand thoughts coursed through his mind, but no words came out.
"Give me all the money."
The robber said.
And so Yang Xuan started to pack the money while secretly pressing an emergency button to call the cops. When the emergency alarm rang, the man realized what had happened, grabbed what little money there was, and shot Yang Xuan in the stomach.
The pain came instantly.
Sharp.
Burning.
Unreal.
Yang Xuan staggered back, his hands instinctively clutching his stomach. Warmth spread between his fingers.
Blood.
Too much blood.
He collapsed onto the floor, the world spinning violently around him.
His ears rang.
Voices echoed somewhere far away.
But none of it mattered.
It hurt.
His vision blurred, and then his vision began to darken.
Silence.
.
.
.
...Beep
...Beep
...Beep
A sound.
Faint.
Distant.
But real.
Yang Xuan's fingers twitched.
His consciousness stirred, dragged back from the void.
Pain followed.
Dull.
Lingering.
Different.
Bright lights flooded his vision.
A ceiling.
White.
Clean.
Sterile.
He tried to move—
Straps.
Cold metal beneath him.
His heart skipped.
Where…
Am I?
Voices.
Rushed.
Urgent.
"Pulse is dropping—"
"Scalpel—"
"Stay with us!"
Yang Xuan's pupils shrank.
Operating table.
Hospital.
Alive?
No—
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
His chest felt tight.
Heavy.
Like something was pulling him down again.
Deeper.
Darker.
The beeping grew faster.
Then—
Slower.
And slower.
And slower.
And in that final moment…
As everything faded once more…
Yang Xuan thought—
So this is how it ends…
Darkness swallowed him whole.
This time—
It didn't let go.