Chapter 2

Drake realized he was in hell, he couldn't believe it as the reality of his situation finally sunk in.

This is the place he had read about in various books and how all wicked people would end up here and be tortured for all eternity yet here he was, chilling.

Drake was curious who would mourn him? Would people that jerk off to his videos even care he was dead or would they simply continue jerking off to them? Drake has been around long enough to know that people rarely viewed them as human beings, just sex symbols and that was fine.

It was this same view that earned them their source of livelihood

"This is hell…" Drake said as he looked around, he was in a room with two doors right in front of him.

There was no fire or pain like religious heads preached, he felt the same as when he was alive.

Drake could even swear that he could hear his heartbeat through his chest even though he was supposed to be dead but this was all in his head.

Drake was very much dead and there was no need for him to have something as inconsequential as a heart.

The door to the left had the word "JUDGMENT" written in all caps on it and the right had the word "GAME OF RESURRECTION" boldly written on it.

"I need further clarification," Drake questioned, a growing suspicion tainting his initial optimism, for things seemed to be appearing too good to be true. He knew there had to be a catch lurking somewhere, and he had no intention of falling victim to it, not again for something like this had already bitten him in the ass during his time on earth.

His mind drifted back to the dubious contract that had ensnared him in the underwhelming production company he had been working for. The meager pay and unfavorable terms were fresh in his memory. In a strange way, he was partly grateful for his current predicament, as it presented him with a chance to resurrect with a physical appearance akin to someone like Brad Pitt, should he wish. Drake recognized the significance of attractiveness and the advantages it brought—opportunities were often influenced by looks, and he understood this reality all too well.

Then came the unsettling revelation regarding the "JUDGMENT" door. It was a one-way ticket to an eternity of torment in Hell, with no possibility of escape, and unending pain as the sole companion for those whose life choices had led them to that grim destination.

Drake immediately knew that there was absolutely no way he would ever walk through that door, pun intended or not. Though he had harbored suspicions that this might be the case, he couldn't be entirely certain if he had already undergone judgment. This confirmation left him in a state of uncertainty, situated in what appeared to be some kind of waiting room for the condemned.

"Tell me what's in the other room," Drake, the twenty-nine-year-old, demanded.

[The door labeled "GAME OF RESURRECTION" leads to a dimension with 100 floors, each inhabited by a different demon for you to conquer. If you successfully defeat a demon, you progress to the next floor. However, with each floor you ascend, the demons grow stronger.]

Drake's expression shifted to one of worry. Despite his earlier bravado about conquering them with his "PP," he now realized the improbability of that. He had no idea how powerful these demons were or what they even looked like.

"How long has this game been in progress?" Drake inquired, curious to know if the participants were people like him seeking a second chance at life, and from what time period they hailed.

[The game has been ongoing for as long as time itself.]

Drake received this information with bewilderment. How could it be that only 150 participants, with potentially more on the way, had been chosen since the beginning of time?

"Beginning of time? Sounds like someone's exaggerating," Drake scoffed, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of it all.

[That is correct.]

It responded bluntly, but Drake didn't mind. He knew this might be his only opportunity to obtain answers, so he had to ask everything now.

"Has the game begun?" Drake inquired.

[Yes]

"Since when?" Drake pressed for more information.

[Since the beginning of time.]

It responded once again, but if that was true, then why hadn't they finished the game?

"How many floors have been conquered so far?" Drake asked, but received no response. He didn't mind, as he had gathered all the answers he needed. This also indicated that things wouldn't be as straightforward as he had hoped.

There was a chance, a chance to win this, but if they were going to fight demons, they couldn't do it bare-handed.

"Wait, how do we fight the demons?" Drake raised a brow as he posed the question.

Something strange materialized in front of him—a being with red eyes and large golden earrings. It had the appearance of a snake, with a serpent's lower body and a snake head at the end of its tail.

She was clad in an unusual ancient armor that concealed her breasts; there was no doubt that this was the person Drake had been conversing with.

"You will be assigned a random ability that will aid you on your journey, and this ability will favor you when fighting certain demons, and vice versa," the information was clear.

Drake heaved a sigh of relief, as he had no intention of engaging in physical combat with demons. These were creatures with significantly more life experience than him, clearly possessing greater strength.

Drake was prepared for the challenge and confidently stepped through the door. However, one more question lingered in his mind: what would happen to them if they died in the game? Yet, a nagging feeling suggested that he might not want to know the answer to this particular question.

"Let's get started!" Drake exclaimed, his voice brimming with determination.