After Being Reborn, I became a firefighter again?

The sky darkened.

"Fang Huai?"

The long table and several recruiters in front of him seemed to have transformed.

"Ah, yes, that's me." Fang Huai was a bit dazed.

Just now it felt like he was having a heart attack, so painful he couldn't stand it, and he blacked out for a moment.

So young, only in his thirties, and he had already suffered a heart attack—damn it... Alright, no more staying up late, or else baldness wouldn't be what I'd be waiting for.

"Which position are you interested in applying for?"

"Um... I'd like to apply for your company's enterprise service product manager position."

The faces of the four people in front of him were full of question marks.

With his years of job-hunting experience, Fang Huai sensed that the balding man on the left side of the center wanted to get rid of him.

The woman on the right quickly picked up a piece of paper from the materials in front of her, flipped it over, looked at it twice, and then, raising her head, revealed a skeptical look.

"... Currently, our products don't need... The positions we're recruiting for today are technical talents for subordinate factories facing enterprises."

As expected, another company with a bait-and-switch job listing, saying they were hiring product managers but really just wanting people to screw in bolts.

Fang Huai cracked a smile, deciding to struggle a bit more.

"My work experience is mainly in understanding and delineating user needs. I also have some understanding of the traffic-driving models for web content services. The era of Web 3.0 is coming, and information blockchain is a big trend. I've also developed insights into focusing more on personal services and user experiences, and today I've brought a PPT..."

"Sorry, next please."

This place isn't for lords.

Fang Huai, hands in his pockets, packed away his previous humbleness, preparing for the next company.

He felt something in his pocket...

It looked familiar.

Mobile phone, slide cover.

Nokia, 5200.

...

The four people inside the room looked at the young man outside the transparent glass wall, lost and dejected with a mobile phone in hand, and their faces showed a hint of scorn.

"Young people nowadays, they sit on the ground but dream of the sky, and being human, they still want to ascend to immortality."

"And there's something a bit..." The woman's face showed an indescribable expression as she pointed at her head.

"He even wants to work on the individual user experience! If we made him a salesman, how many lawsuits would we have to deal with in a year?"

...

Twenty minutes later, Fang Huai, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, walked out past the "NS Technology Co., Ltd." sign, muttering to himself.

"Oh my god, 2007."

After finishing three cigarettes, suddenly Fang Huai turned back.

"Come out! I've seen you!"

He felt certain he was being fooled, like "The Truman Show"—the kind where a TV crew secretly films his life.

Other than being played, he couldn't think of any other explanation.

But instead of Guangzhou, it was Chongqing in front of him, and those few big Fuwa characters holding hands had been torn down more than a decade ago.

He felt in his pocket again.

Mobile phone, wallet, keys, cigarette, lighter. These few items seemed to be the only direction he had left.

Luckily, he didn't start with just a bowl.

Reborn...

Reborn!

Fang Huai's breathing began to quicken.

First, go home and take a look!

...

In the taxi, Fang Huai reflected on his past life all the way home.

His life was probably in crisis from early on.

He belonged to the second generation of cooks, not the kind that cooks a medium-rare steak, but the kind that stir-fries kidney slices for eighteen yuan a dish.

After being discharged from firefighting at 24, he went to a poor-performing public institution, and no longer able to tolerate the leadership's PUA, he resigned and went to Guangzhou, bouncing through more than ten jobs.

No savings, but the bank, on the other hand, had over a hundred thousand of his.

When things were tight, he fell back on the guitar skills he picked up in his youth to woo girls, and even tried his hand at singing gigs in bars to get by for a few days.

He was quickly fired; they said he was in over his head.

There are so many trades, and each one is a curse.

The only certainty in his life was being sold to Myanmar as bait for piglets, supposedly worth 300,000, but at 35, even the kidneys weren't a good sell.

At present, apart from having a Guangxi girlfriend who loves to call him "dickhead," he doesn't even have a hair to his name.

His mother, Zhang Mei, passed away 15 years ago in a car accident.

In 2016, his ex-girlfriend Huang Jiaojiao found out that the driver responsible for the accident and his insurance company had compensated his family with a hundred and fifty thousand yuan. She asked to borrow a hundred and eighty-eight thousand yuan to pay off her cosmetic surgery debts.

She said she would consider it as a dowry.

A hundred and eighty-eight thousand yuan, well, that's not expensive; just a cake of old Ban Zhang tea.

Having been in love since his school days, and without money for a house or a car, he met her single requirement and gave her the money.

The end of wearing makeup is natural beauty, and the end of a dowry is famine.

Huang Jiaojiao took the cash and soon left, leaving behind only one sentence.

"A friend told me that staying with you is just muddling through life, so I might as well make some money while I'm still young in Shanghai. Don't look for me; wait for me for three years. When I come back, I'll marry you."

She also left him a promissory note, without specifying a repayment date.

It wasn't until several years later that Fang Huai learned that borrowing has only three years of right of claim, and without claiming repayment during this period, the opportunity is lost.

His father didn't scold him about it, saying since she'd been with him for so many years, it's okay to give it away.

But last year, his father passed away as well, like many others, from the same illness.

Anesthetics, intubation, blood transfusions, medication, leading to worse kidney disease, loss of function, bedside dialysis in the ICU. The cost was high. He fought for over ten days before his passing. Each morning, thousands would be paid into the hospital's official account, and by night the balance would be nearly gone.

He even called Huang Jiaojiao, hoping she would return some money or even lend him some.

It was unreachable; he sent WeChat messages, but got no response.

Looking at her social media: hyaluronic acid face, silicone breasts, Bvlgari Hotel, Balenciaga stockings.

He took on all the debts he could, persisting until the doctors shook their heads and in kindness told him, "There's little hope of recovery. Keep going, and you'll be left with nothing."

That was when he first learned that withdrawing life support means a person will die excruciatingly. To avoid suffering, you must stop the life-sustaining drugs first, and wait for the person to pass before removing the supports—that way, it's a little more peaceful at the end.