Transmigration
Ouch! What the hell is this pulsating pain? It's as if a demonic worm is digging and eating my brain!
"Your Highness, please have mercy! Our harvest is not plentiful these year because of our incompetence! We ask Your Highness to give us a little bit more time until the wrath of the Flood Dragon subsides."
What the f**k? Who the hell is this chicken-like man? He's kowtowing like crazy! Look! His forehead is like a broken blood fountain! There is even a pool of blood on the floor. Holy sh*t! Is that brain matter? I have never seen one, but I'm pretty sure that squishy blob of flesh is his sanity right there! This is too f**kin' hard core!
I got taken aback by this strange happenings in front of me. It's so bizzare! Most importantly, what the f**k am I doing here?
I'm supposed to be dead by now inside the IRS building.
I remembered that I rented a private plane and bought some fire-cracker powder for my lifetime mission, a suicide trip to Tax Hell! With the help of my bomb armor and a broken gun, I flew straight through IRS headquarters to blew their damn brains out.
With a crash and a loud bang, I succeeded in making flesh pancakes out of the cruel tax demons. Before my conciousness blacked out, I can't help but raise a wicked grin when I saw that devil burning up in flames.
That devil is my life-long nemesis. I am originally a rich young scion destined to enjoy a degenerate life, but that devil destroyed all my hopes and dreams!
He confiscated all of my inheritance by testifying to the court that all the property of my father is ill-gotten.
He accused us of tax evasion by providing a list of fake beneficiaries under an unheard of Trust Fund that is so dumb that they left their list of clientele and their personal information in their president's office.
My father and his alleged dealings with the narcs are all on that list and lo and behold, I didn't get my inheritance, but thankfully he still have some heart to give my father a bail which became a debt for me to carry forever.
My father died in prison. The bail did not last forever. Cause of death? He got beaten to death because he didn't pay the protection fee. We have no money for funerals, so we have no choice but to bury him somewhere.
Without the inheritance and a huge debt looming on my head, I flew to another country to restart my life. Hope it's just as easy as the game, but hell no! You gotta deal with that passport or visa. Even finding a job without being deported is very hard.
With enough dedication and many life and deaths with the immigration/police officers, I found a job in the mafia. Selling coke and vegetables became a daily thing for me.
However, even in the underground we also need to pay taxes, otherwise the IRS will come knocking on our doors. Even the mafia boss with his monstrous physique didn't dare to cross the IRS, how can a lowly thug like me take it on.
One night, when the boss is having a good time with some random young lady he abducted, there's a buy-back operation. Who is the dumb one to sell coke to an undercover agent? Yes, it's me. Who else if not me.
The ringing symphony of Doppler Effects came flashing like red and blue lights on my face. My hands are handcuffed and my head forced down to the ground.
I saw my naked boss so confused that he even forgot how to punch. He must be so high at that time, that he mistook the policewoman as a dominatrix tending to his kinks. With no struggle, he let himself get handcuffed and stuffed in the police car.
After a bout of interrogations, I got myself a cozy room free of rent and with free food. This is heaven! Well not exactly, I am sharing my room with three more guys who are
looking at me like I'm a fresh piece of meat. I can't even turn my back on them, for the fear of being skewered like a hotdog on a grill.
Of course, prison has a tax, a labor tax. Every day, we need to work on the field planting potatoes and carrots. Our crops are shared with everyone via communism. Umu, the wardens got 100% of the crops and ours are the rest. It's fair and just. Now that I remember it, I learned the concept of socialism better here in prison than with Karl Marx.
I escaped. Why? There's no games, no cellphones, no Internet, no anything at all! How do you expect me to live like that?! I am a man of culture. Without hourly dopamine injection, my attention span will be in chaos causing me to have intense epileptic shocks. Within minutes, I will experience intense withdrawal that feels like my butt is on fire.
Escaping from prison is easy. There are four ways. Get the keys to unlock all doors, punch straight through the walls, dig through the ground, or be a sigma and walk with confidence while greeting the wardens and asking them to step aside.
I have not enough guts for the last one, so I did the first. Unlock all keys using a copy. With my photographic memory, it's trivial to make a copy of the key and make it using wood. The last part is misdirection, decoy, and deflection. Subtly instigate a revolution and escape through the chaos. What an easy and doable plan!
After escaping, I found a job in a humble company. With my efforts and my magic formula of a sprinkle of bribes, three drops of sabotage, and five cuts of propaganda, I rose through the ranks and became elected as CEO. We are now publicly-traded and my head is now worh a million dollars. Everything is going so well for me. I even have a marriage scheduled that day.
But, the devil came and ruined it all again. She filed a tax evasion investigation against the company. I am terrified when I saw that devil again, but fortunately the devil did not recognize me. I calmed down since I knew I'm clean. There is nothing to be afraid of.
The devil was frustrated that it got nothing from me, but the devil smiled and I knew right there that I f**ked up. I am safe, but all of the board are filed with tax evasion, embezzlement, bribery, accounting fraud, etc. The documents are so thick that when they are presented to me, I have no choice but to let go of my foolish subordinates. As if to add salt to an open wound, the devil did not spare even the simple employees.
The company dropped in revenue. We can't do our work, since we are understaffed, and we are understaffed, because we can't hire new recruits, and we can't hire new recruits, because of our ruined reputation. I have no choice but to work 24/7 trying my best to revitalize the company and break even.
Less than a month after, the company went bankrupt. It was amazing that I held on until I am skin and bones. My health has deteriorated and my body is failing me. My immune system went down and I contracted lung cancer. Smoking cigarettes helped stabilize my mind when I can't work anymore, but now it is causing havoc inside my body.
I only got 10 days to live as said by my eccentric doctor. He gave me a free plane ticket, so I can travel the world in my last days. But I refused, I asked where I can rent a private plane. He's confused, but he still accede to my request.
With everything ready, I began my one-way trip to hell.