Survival ensures a future

The next day, early morning.

Reinhard knelt in his house, clutching several sticks of incense. He carefully performed three bows and nine prostrations to a blank sheet of white paper laid out before him. After planting the incense upright, he clasped his hands before his chest and whispered fervently:

"Author, if you're in heaven, please bless me so I can live a few more chapters!"

His voice trembled slightly as he kowtowed multiple times, the sound of his forehead tapping the floor echoing softly in the quiet room.

From the doorway, his parents watched the scene unfold, their faces painted with confusion.

"Son," his mother called out, "who are you bowing to?"

Reinhard remained silent, his hands pressed tightly together in prayer.

Curious, his mother walked closer, her gaze landing on the white paper on the table. "Death… author? What is this?"

Without looking up, Reinhard sighed heavily, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Ah… I don't know how many more chapters I can live."

Hearing this, his mother frowned and reached out to touch his head. "Son, are you feeling alright? Why are you spouting nonsense? Ying, take him to the hospital to see a doctor."

His father, standing nearby, squinted at Reinhard with a skeptical expression. "I don't think he's sick," he said. "He looks possessed."

Reinhard twitched slightly at his father's remark, but the older man only chuckled. "Let's go, son. I think you just haven't been sleeping well lately."

His mother chimed in again, her voice laced with concern. "How about we go for a drive to the coast? Some fresh air might help."

The coast?

Reinhard's head snapped up, his face pale. "No!"

You really don't value my life.

He sighed deeply, shoulders sagging. The Sea King hadn't succeeded in conquering North America this time, but Reinhard knew it was only a matter of time before the next assault began—perhaps in Europe, or worse, right here in Asia.

Retreating to his room, he shut and locked the door behind him.

Last night, in his dream, he had seen strange, fragmented images. They felt like glimpses of something important, words spoken directly to him.

As if someone had been listening to his desperate musings and was weaving plans around them.

The voices offered different suggestions:

Some urged him to seek out Death, to gamble his fate. Others suggested scavenging for discarded treasures. A few simply told him to accept his fate and wait to die.

Taking the advice he could act on immediately, Reinhard had begun his day by offering incense to the author and to Death.

But there had been no response.

"Although Zero summoned Death through prayer…" he muttered, rubbing his temples, "Death found Zero first. It's not like he just randomly called her and she came running."

His thoughts shifted to the idea of scavenging. "And picking up trash… where am I even supposed to start? How am I supposed to know where Death throws the things she doesn't need?"

Reinhard sighed again, leaning back against the door.

"The truth is, I have no special background, no ties to any monsters, no connections to key characters. I'm just regular cannon fodder."

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"If I were a little luckier, maybe 079 would choose me."

But even that hope felt distant.

"079 chooses so many people. And those who end up strong… they're all connected to monsters. They're strong by nature."

Of course, there was another path...

He'd heard it clearly in his dream. Someone had whispered to him: Go find 022, the demon, Zero.

After all, Zero was at least on the side of humanity.

But then, Reinhard frowned. What excuse am I supposed to use?

"If I don't manage to hide my secret, not only might Zero imprison me, but Death might just throw me into the vase!"

He sighed, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his spiraling thoughts.

Reinhard reached for the original owner's diary, flipping through the aged pages at random. As he read, his brows knitted tighter.

"Two hundred grams of gold," he muttered under his breath. "There's no other way… I'll have to use what's left in this account. Not that there's much to begin with…"

His eyes scanned further down the page, and suddenly, he froze.

"Damn it. I clearly had an account, but the administrator deleted it?!"

Reinhard bolted upright, his body rigid as his gaze snapped to his right hand.

In an instant, a red triangular circle glowed faintly on his skin, pulsing with an eerie light.

Reinhard's pupils dilated as his breath caught. "This body… seems to have an identity…"

His fingers trembled as he picked up the diary again, flipping frantically through the remaining pages.

Page after page, the details unfolded, each word more chilling than the last.

It was him.

The one who had dared to "fight" Death.

Enko.

"If I'm not mistaken…" Reinhard murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "after Enko was killed by Death, his soul was given a new body. He hasn't appeared since. And as for the name of his new body, it was never mentioned…"

Reinhard's chest rose and fell rapidly, his thoughts a storm.

"Reincarnated as Enko?"

"Is this… good news or bad news?"

His mind raced. If Death holds a grudge, she might suddenly think of me one day, and then I'll die!

"No, no, no," he muttered, trying to calm himself. "Death is cheerful. If she wanted Enko dead, she would've done it already. Why wait until now?"

But then another thought clawed its way into his head.

Enko's identity might carry negative buffs.

Reinhard recalled how Enko had always drawn junk from treasure chests in the past. Does that mean 079 might be targeting him?

Or maybe… Enko was just incredibly unlucky.

Still, there was one sliver of hope.

"Only Death knows about Enko's reincarnation," he reasoned. "So the fact that Enko offended those monsters… has nothing to do with me."

And Enko's identity wasn't entirely without merit.

At least now, Reinhard had a ticket to 079's game and could inherit Enko's original stats.

"As long as I accumulate 50,000 points," he mused, "I can buy the right to meet Death and join the glorious evolution…"

His expression darkened.

"But first, I have to survive until then. And those 50,000 points won't be easy to gather."

Reinhard's hands clenched into fists, a glint of determination sparking in his eyes.

Survival first.

Even if it meant scraping by, accumulating tiny subsidies from 079, he'd do it. It might take time, but it wasn't impossible.

"The real issue is, where can I safely farm?"

He listed the major forces in his mind, one by one:

The Serpent's Hand: Too mysterious.

The Kitsune: Too chaotic.

The vampires: Even the True Ancestor, 008, has been captured.

The Fish-Men: Fully engaged in the main conflict. Too dangerous.

The Church of Light: The angel alone would kill me without a second thought.

The Global Paranormal Alliance (GPA): Just another extension of the vampires.

The Chaos Insurgency: Already merged with the Kitsune.

Seven major supernatural factions, and none of them seemed remotely trustworthy.

The root of it all, Reinhard thought bitterly, was Enko's lack of a truly strong identity.

"If I were in Shino's body instead…" Reinhard muttered enviously. "I'd have vampires on my left, sea creatures on my right, and a ticket to 079's game. Destined to become a monster. The perfect start!"

He flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"If it were someone else," he murmured, "they'd be thinking about how to beat the Sea King, step on the angel, and have 001 on their left and 007 on their right…"

"But me?" He chuckled bitterly. "I know my limits."

For a moment, silence filled the room.

Finally, he sat up, his expression grim but resolved.

"Or… should I just go out and try my luck?"