What the Hell, 60ml!

In China, a small city hospital, on the thirteenth-floor rooftop, a frail figure stood, a calm expression on his gaunt face.

"Is this my fate?" Tang An muttered, tightly clutching a medical test report, the turmoil within him contrasting with his outward composure.

Cancer, in the mid-stage. For a young man, it was more unbelievable than winning a 5 million lottery.

He had cancer.

Was cancer becoming common at such a young age?

Fate seemed exceptionally unfair to Tang An.

His parents divorced, leaving him with distant relatives, leading to a new family in another city.

Like an unwanted child, he faced mockery and unfair treatment in his foster home, lacking guidance and familial love, turning him into a rebellious, fierce character, frequently involved in fights.

From scavenging in trash heaps to begging and brawling, Tang An experienced it all.

At some point, his appetite diminished, fatigue and pain engulfed him, and during the bouts of illness, the pain felt like his intestines were twisted together, suffocating him.

Finally, he sought help at the hospital.

The diagnosis: mid-stage cancer, akin to a death sentence.

For someone of his age, getting cancer was a miraculous misfortune.

From a troubled childhood to multiple thoughts of ending his own life, Tang An had somehow persevered.

But this time, he felt genuine despair.

The world, though beautiful, was no different from hell for him.

He resented the parents who gave birth but didn't raise him, harbouring hatred for everyone and everything in this world.

His psyche had become abnormal.

As he took a step forward, only the medical test report remained on the rooftop's edge.

"Is this death?" As consciousness fades,

"I'm starting to regret it."

In that moment of death, Tang An heard a scream and caught a whiff of pungent blood, as if it were his own.

Finally, his congested, pitch-black eyes gradually lost their colour.

The Goa Kingdom hailed as the most beautiful country in the East Blue.

Port Town, a gathering place for ruffians, beyond its towering walls lay an uncertain destination, a vast landfill serving as the dwelling for the impoverished, beggars, and thugs.

The kingdom's society was divided into four classes: the highest being the royal family, followed by the middle-class nobility residing in High Town, then the commoners on Central Street, and the lowest, the ruffians of Port Town, not to mention those in the waste disposal area, deemed even lower than the lowest.

Despite the kingdom's pristine reputation, the repulsive truth of corruption remained unchanged.

In the vast landfill of the uncertain destination, a person appeared out of thin air.

As consciousness gradually awakened, Tang An opened his eyes abruptly.

The first sensation was the pungent stench of garbage at his nose, a smell he knew well.

Everywhere he looked, ruins of rubbish surrounded him. He hadn't died.

Bending down to inspect his body, he found himself unscathed.

If his memory served him right, he should have been in a gruesome state by now.

"What is this?"

A light screen appeared before him, with mist swirling around a set of stairs, a fist-sized die, and a model airplane on the first blank step. It resembled a certain board game—Ludo. However, it was designed for a single player.

A narration began.

[Rules: Each natural month grants one dice-rolling opportunity. The rolled number determines the steps moved on the board. Each step can yield unexpected items or result in the loss of the player's possessions. A first-time world-crosser receives a reward of four additional dice-rolling opportunities. Ongoing tasks: Hunt the Child of Destiny, Antagonist of Fate, Crosser, Reincarnator; rewards include +4 dice-rolling opportunities, and bonuses to important character roles or antagonist roles as deemed fit. Also, a luck boost.]

Sitting amidst the rubbish, Tang An observed the screen displaying the Ludo game, the narration of rules, the reward for the first-world crossing, and ongoing tasks.

It was straightforward.

Despite being a street thug, Tang An was familiar with common knowledge about novels, plot devices, and world-crossing from TV shows, movies, novels, and anime.

Tang An fell into the category of street thugs who still enjoyed a cultural life. Collecting scrap and begging sometimes earned him an easy monthly income of three to four thousand.

He was certain; this was not a dream.

In other words, he had crossed into another world, gaining a Goldfinger-like system, albeit without intelligence and less diverse functionalities, quite simple.

Examining the ongoing tasks, Tang An was destined to encounter other world-crossers, and he had to hunt them down.

It wasn't limited to fellow world-crossers; it included the Child of Destiny and Antagonist of Fate in the native world, along with Reincarnators and others.

Was he going to be an enemy of the world?

Ignoring the protagonist was one thing, but not sparing the antagonists either?

Tang An's emotions were anything but calm at this moment.

Despite the cruelty, he saw a glimmer of hope in shaping his own destiny.

"I have four chances to roll the dice."

At this moment, he didn't know where he had crossed to, and the only thing he could rely on was the Goldfinger.

With a thought, Tang An initiated the dice-rolling process. The dice started spinning and jumping, and it took him nearly a minute to bring it to a stop.

Clearly, he could stop the dice whenever he wanted.

[ 3 ]

The dice showed three.

Before Tang An could intervene, the model airplane moved to the third blank step, accompanied by a dazzling light.

Upon the dissipation of the light, an introduction appeared.

[M92 Pistol, 9mm caliber, ten rounds.

Explanation: Advanced structure, reliable performance, good accuracy, minimal parts, lightweight; aesthetically pleasing with comfortable grip; utilizes a unitized component structure, excellent for duty performance; features user-friendly magazine release and safety lever for left and right-handed operation, convenient and efficient human-machine interaction]

Tang An's luck was not bad; he obtained an M92 pistol.

The only downside was the limited ten rounds, and Tang An had no experience with firearms.

The screen also displayed "Take Out" and "Put In."

"Take Out."

With a thought, a real M92 pistol appeared in Tang An's hand, fully loaded with bullets.

Thinking of experimenting, Tang An silently uttered "Put In," and the pistol disappeared.

Evidently, the Goldfinger had storage space. However, it seemed to only accommodate extracted items.

Re-summoning the pistol and strapping it to his waist, Tang An proceeded to the second round of dice-rolling.

This time, the dice displayed 5, and the model airplane advanced five steps.

Another dazzling light, and when Tang An read the description on the screen, his face turned pale. now to his dismay, the words hinted at a dire twist of fate: [Mid-term cancer turns into late-stage cancer.]

Doubt crept in as Tang An contemplated the peculiar nature of this so-called Golden Finger. It seemed to defy conventional expectations, intertwining rewards with unforeseen consequences.

The initial thrill of time travel and acquiring the Golden Finger was swiftly replaced by a chilling reality. Tang An couldn't shake the feeling that this experience was far from ordinary.

Undeterred, he steeled himself for the next throw. "Two more times," he muttered,

Taking a deep breath, Tang An proceeded to roll the dice for the third time.

The dice showed a one, and the model airplane advanced only one space.

As the familiar light emerged, Tang An frowned upon seeing the item clearly.

[A bottle of 60ml, transparent, hyaluronic acid, colourless, tasteless....]

After reading all the details, Tang An's face turned increasingly pale.

Could he really get such a thing? And at this moment?

Suppressing his impatience, Tang An began the last dice roll.

This time, luck was on his side, and the dice showed a six.

The model airplane advanced six spaces, and as the light dissipated, a pleasant and energetic voice accompanied by lively music came through.

[play... dealing cards online....]

An advertisement, it turned out to be an advertisement.

And it repeated ten times, forcefully.

Tang An couldn't maintain his composure anymore; veins popped on his neck, and even his eyes turned red.

Four chances and only a pistol seemed reasonable.

From mid-stage cancer to late-stage cancer. undoubtedly, Tang An had entered the final countdown of his life.

As for the 60ml bottle, to hell with that 60ml bottle.

And the advertisement that had monopolized a certain website for years, repeating ten times, nearly drove Tang An to despair.

He was now certain; that this Goldfinger was utterly useless.