1 Laugh or cry

His consciousness started to clear. Coldness was all around, his skin was numb. His eyes closed as soon as they opened, there was no blinding light though, nothing changed actually, darkness remains. Something concrete filled his eyes instead, stinging pain invaded his nerves, but no scream could escape his mouth. He cares less about that though, he can't even take a breath no matter how hard he tried. Fear brought his conscienceless back to full alertness. Memories flashed through blowing his mind again.

Yes! I transmigrated but... what the heck is this!

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He was one of those dreamers who tried to find a solution outside of their reach, instead of focusing on himself. When that outreached impossible dream presented itself in the form of the Arab Spring. His hopes and motivation soared, reached the clouds. Though that year summer passed faster than anyone could harvest its yields. The leafs withered and shattered one after another, soon winter comes with cold, thunder, lightning, and storms. What started with fire, a miserable man setting himself on fire ended with hellfire.

He was lucky though, he was in an Arabic country in the far west away from all these seasons, a country that avoided destruction. Few sparks reached there, spreading waves of despair and heartbreak on the population. The corruption and bureaucracy continued withering the adults' willpower and crashing the ambitions and dreams of the youth. The hope that he saw early in social media couldn't do much to change anything. After all, these guys could cut people to pieces with a saw under the whole world watch and go away with it.

He lacked the motivation to fight, he was so depressed and bored with his life. He reached that period of life where when you're poor you realize you won't ever achieve your dreams. Nagging about your measurable life and your country became your hobby, that you share with your unsuccessful friends, even strangers. When rich, there's nothing interesting left to do other than picking on your subordinates. Making others' lives measurable somehow makes you feel good about yourself.

Dreamlands, right across the sea, were all out of reach for someone with his status. No way out of this forsaking lands. Instead of complaining day and night, he found salvation, for his gray-haired spirit. Novels, video games, and social media... were his haven. He found himself fascinated again with those interesting fantasy worlds. Worlds even though 2-dimensional, sometimes drawn by dull black litters, were more colorful and alive than his 3-dimensional reality. His younger days were back, while he's in this space.

Though depression found its way to his life in funny ways. CEO novels kept popping out left and right, poking his eyes. Making him remember how unsuccessful he was, a loser in people's scale. Though he might argue he's a CEO himself, his online business never left the broken status it starts from. He did the least effort possible to make him survive on his own, using DIYs here and there to help him cut back on his expenses. There was no place for another person in his life. There are those days he felt lonely, he comforted himself with divorce statistics, and unhappy families he sees all around.

The believer he was, it came naturally to him to pray his wishes. He prayed whenever he has time to god. To send him to an alternative world, and of course not to forget to grant him a system along the way. Sometimes he even has the crazy idea of asking for something more realistic like a zombie apocalypse. Though he wasn't serious about it, he found it somehow numbing, and peaceful. He doesn't need drugs to temporarily forget his misery, so he never ceased to pray. Prayer after prayer became for him like a spinner, or those pen rolling experts, a Jutsu he masters.

Oh god, please send me to the world of cultivation or magic,

Oh god, please grants me a system.

Oh god, please send...

Oh...…..

...

Years passed, nothing changed in his life. Majid was walking in the dull streets of his neighborhood. Bare blocks, showing red, gray bricks, or cement, like rotten wounds, smeared many of the buildings around, telling stories about their inhabitants. Bottles, and biscuit wraps, and miscellaneous junks scattered around, like flowers decorating the streets. Majid wasn't aware of his surroundings, keeping enough consciousness to find his way through, without an accident. His Jutsu playing no stop, relentlessly. people who noticed his whispering looked at him with suspicious eyes, not minding any of that he took a narrow shortcut to his house.

Walking mid through the alley, suddenly, a weird sound waved around Majid, popping his bubble. it sounded to him like the noise of an old music tape as it goes awry. The space twisted and a crack appeared behind him breaking his nostalgia. The shock couldn't leave room for fear to take some actions, before something stretched out from the crack, grabbed him violently like a security guard, and sucked him in the blink of an eye.

A white space appeared, the dimensions around was undiscernible, it didn't help lessen his dizziness. He didn't have the chance to familiarize himself with the location, nor make sense of the situation. Shouts bombarded his ears not allowing his stupor to clear.

"I swear if you ever said that again, no matter what it takes I will send you to hell! you spammed me day in and day out, you bastard not even spared me at nights, how could there be someone like you! please send me... please send me... how am I supposed to do my work, if you didn't shut up, and let me listen to other people appropriately heh!"

Looking at the white-bearded man in contrast to his mid-forties looks, with white hair. Dressed in a white robe, all in white giving off a divine aura. Majid kept a poker face, the man's words kept spinning in his head without making any sense. His brows suddenly flashed up, and his eyes widened.

"I…., I heard the more I pray the better! I might even meet a blessed time where prayers get accepted right away, isn't that's why I'm here right," said Majid after a long time, coming up with whatever comes up in his mind, trying to rationalize his actions. His mouth draws a wide arc between his ears, as things started to get into place in his mind. He couldn't believe his eyes, it was nothing like how dreams worked, this was real. This isn't anything like the afterlife scenarios I knew of though!

"I can't listen, neither look at you anymore, I am the overseer of earth, so listen carefully. I wasted one of my precious biddings that goes to great heroes, who accumulated great merits on you. Here, I will grant you your f-f-f your wishes, I don't expect anything from you, just shut the… just shut up, don't you PRAY anymore! I will keep your memories, so remember, never to pray again, if you pissed off the other overseer as well, and you were rated you low, I will get back at you no matter what it takes!"

The overseer whispered some words, soon Majid's body caught on fire. Before he could scream his pain out, his body turned to ashes. Weird enough, in a surreal experience, he was able to see that happening, with his mouth hanging open. His consciousness never faded, he could see a corporeal body remains in place like he was shedding old skin. The weird noise waved again, space distorted, the overseer flashed behind him grabbing him kind of like from his color, throws him in the crack. Though the overseer's face was still contorting, a satisfied smile finds its way in his face somehow.

And so he found himself in that dark, cold incomprehensible situation. As his awareness started to clear, unable to breathe fear starts to take hold of him. Frenziedly, he flailed for a few seconds to no avail, his weekend limbs forced him to stop and relax enough to get hold of himself.

Just what the heck, Ok, I transmigrated.... darkness! enable to move! am I in one of those womb transmigrations…

No! obviously not, I can feel my whole body is restricted. I'm in no swimming pool either. More importantly, I feel an unmistaken need to breathe, not as urgent as it's supposed to be, nonetheless it's on the rise. Yeah, and there's this memory of some weird people attacking me with anime like skills.

The moments Majid started to think about this memory, it leads him to other absurd memories and those leads him to others... Majid stopped this endless track of memories after he understood his situation. He understood that he doesn't have too much time to waste.

He safely assumes that he took over a dead boy's body. The boy died in a forest, a beast forest to be precise, he was f***** killed in a beast forest! not by beasts mind you!

Upon a traditional trial, the younger generation of the clan has to kill some level 3 beast, as proof of their power and courage or something. His cousin comes personally, with a bunch of clan members, to kill him. The clan elder supposed to protect him turned a blind eye to him.

His father was the first candidate for the succession of the clan patriarchy. But his standing in the clan fall, due to him suffering a heavy injury. His less talented older brother has his eyes on his position. Conflicts raised between them one after another. The conflicts stretched to the younger generation. But it shouldn't have come to this extent. About 3 months ago his father died suspiciously, no one dared to blame it on his brother. Most elders of the clan were on his side by that time. They suppressed anyone associated with his father, until they even dared to kill his son, in the shadow of the trial. But they would never expect, that a man of another world would take over his body.

So I am in a dead boy's body OK, I know this scenario, but where the hell is the beauty, that's supposed to be crying over my dead body or something. Ok killed in the forest what's come next, I took the body, no beast got it then, so...

Wait a minute! don't tell me they... holy shit! those stupid Mother f***s. Wouldn't it be better to just let the f**** body for some beast to feed on it, why bother to bury it.

Forget it at least I know what am I dealing with, I have to get the hell out of her, this Qi or whatever can't sustain me for long.

He tried to pierce through the dirt surrounding his body, he didn't have enough space though, he wasn't able to build momentum. His Qi emptied due to his fight or death, the scarce amount remaining, bearly sustained his life, his sheer power was not enough to do the job.

Man, let's relax, f*** I can't breathe, how can I relax, nonono you can, just stop thinking OK! that's good, he tried to think out of the box, he was in a cultivation world, there's certainly something he can do. No matter how much the overseer was angry, he wouldn't put him in a hopeless situation. 'right! right!' After all, he gave him some important opportunity, with some ratings and stuff involved.

focus! focus!

He needed space to move, an idea indeed sparkled. An idea that could only come from a Chinese novels fan, yes space rings, he could easily get rid of some dirt inside one of those. As he passed his thumbs through his other fingers, he could touch nothing but his skin.

Oh, f***! that's to be expected.

Looting enemies is common sense in this world. Despair befall him again. The fear mode was about to break loose. He squeezed his hands like an earthworm. His wrist was able to squeeze its way upward, his arm wasn't though, it doesn't have the flexibility nor space to pull it off. He felt the Numbness spreading in his body, thoughts of giving up looked appealing. Upon remembering the once in million lifetimes chance, unwillingness overwhelmed him. His mind fought itself to focus, every thought consumed more of his limited reserves of energy. Nothing of significance comes out though, his mind was blank, if only he has some space to work with. Where it comes from! whether inside or outside the box, a crazy idea popped in his mind.

Yes, that's it, that's a storage space as well!