Prologue

I'm probably the most unconventional transmigrator.

Well, I haven't heard of them or read about them, and I've read a lot. Well, a lot.

A familiar scenario: hit by a car - "bang" - already in another world.

There are many variations of death: electrocuted, stabbed, shot, or a plane crash, but some have no adventures at all - he went to bed at his place and woke up a transmigrator.

All right. Now a quick summary of me:born - lived - died.

The "born" phase can be omitted: I don't remember myself very well as a child.The "Lived" phase was a success. I was living well, just fine. No, really. I had a good education, a decent-paying, non-dusty job. I had a three-room apartment and a car. I was doing well on the personal front. I have a hobby (if you can call it that): watching anime, reading manga, fanfics and all sorts of fantasy, mysticism, and a little game of RPG.

On that last point, "died" isn't so bright anymore. Yeah, what good can death do, especially your own, rather than your beloved upstairs neighbor's?

One not-so-great Sunday afternoon I went out on the balcony to smoke. Yes, the Ministry of Health correctly warns that smoking is bad for your health, but not like this... In general, the picture was as follows: I was standing, smoking, leaning against the guardrail, admiring the view of the city. Suddenly, the right side of the railing breaks off and I tear myself off the balcony.

You'll say, "It was nothing:you just fell off the balcony.

That's how it all started. Not only did I survive (it was only a three-story flight), but I also slowed my flight against a tree and collapsed into the bushes.

Yes, I was scratched, but nothing fatal. I was lying on the thorny shrubbery, contemplating the sky (it was particularly beautiful), and out of the corner of my eye I noticed that the same grating was flying down from my balcony. It's the reason I'm having an unscheduled rest. It's clearly aiming at me.

When I noticed this fact, I managed to bend the martyr construction (at least a three-story mat) and roll slightly to the side.

As it turned out, to no avail: the grate had hit me on the head.

Well, I guess that's it! "Hello, New World!" but no.

My luck is still with me, and I am still alive. I kept alive and acquired a healthy bump.

The medics diagnosed me with a "concussion of what replaces the brain" and loaded me into the ambulance.

On the highway, a truck crashes into our car.

Ha! And even that wasn't the end of the story of my death: I got away with minor injuries and a couple of abrasions.

Alas, you can't say that about the ambulance crew... Well, I was well fixed on a gurney, and the gurney was also securely fastened in the car.

Just the other day, the fleet of cars was updated with modern models. It was the governor before the election, so I was lucky not to die in a banal car accident. Once again, I lost my ticket to a new life.

They took me to the hospital after all. They took me to the emergency room. There I was safely forgotten about. What did you expect?

The evening shift found me. Well, they didn't remember, but stumbled upon an unaccounted-for body on an unaccounted-for gurney.

My mortal carcass gave rise to a debate: the previous shift was in a hurry to get home and refused to take me, and the current shift refused to take a body that had come out of nowhere. After half an hour of heated discussion, the gurney was sent to... No, not to the morgue.

There were such suggestions, but I was still showing signs of life, so the disputants agreed on resuscitation.

The emergency room was on the first floor of the hospital, as was the morgue, and the intensive care unit was on the third floor.

Naturally, everyone headed for the elevator. On the way, I saw a toilet, which I had wanted to visit for a long time. Which I told my escorts. "Can't you wait?" - I replied categorically no, and pointed out that I had been patient since the morning, and that if they didn't want to wash out the gurney and the elevator, they should make a stop.

While we were arguing, some geezer in a wheelchair got on the elevator and started going up. However, as soon as the elevator reached the last floor, we heard the sound of the cable tearing and the elevator falling. In general, going to the toilet was no longer relevant.

They took me up the stairs to the ICU after all. On the way up, I was almost dropped six times and then dropped twice.

I still can't figure out how I didn't break my neck. The first time, a wheel fell off the gurney. The second time, the straps that held me to the gurney broke.

In the room, I was sure that my torment had come to an end. Oh, how naive I was! During that night I survived three more times, only by miracle. First, I was taken by mistake to surgery, where I almost died from anesthesia. Now I know I'm allergic to it.

The next day my girlfriend came to visit me. I was so happy to see her! She also brought me some goodies. I chewed with a feeling that life was getting better. She was the one who told me about the two nighttime episodes. I didn't listen to how it happened: the fact that these two episodes had happened, but they had passed me by, was enough for me.

And here we come to the climax of this epic story of my death.

It was about ten minutes after my girlfriend left.

The doctors pronounced me dead of asphyxiation.

I had choked on a cherry pit.