The rain washed the blood away faster than I expected.
It streamed down the cracked pavement, mixing with the dirt beneath me, turning everything into a dark, slippery mess. My body lay twisted on the ground, heavy and unresponsive. I tried to move my fingers. Nothing happened.
My chest burned.
Each breath felt like broken glass scraping through my lungs.
Above me, a streetlight flickered weakly, its glow blurring in and out of focus. Footsteps echoed nearby—slow, deliberate, unhurried. Whoever was approaching wasn't afraid.
"You should stop struggling," a familiar voice said calmly. "It's embarrassing."
I forced my eyes open.
She stood there holding an umbrella, her expression composed, almost bored. Raindrops slid down the edge of the fabric as if the world itself was bowing to her comfort. This was the same woman who once held my hand when I had nothing. The same woman who swore she would never leave.
"You… planned this," I whispered.
My throat burned as the words escaped.
She sighed, like a teacher tired of correcting a stupid student. "Ethan, don't act surprised. You were never meant to sit at the table with us."
Another figure stepped into view.
My best friend.
The man who drank with me, laughed with me, shared dreams with me when we were both nobodies.
He crouched beside me and shook his head slowly. "You should've stayed in your lane. Ambition doesn't suit people like you."
Something cold pressed against my chest.
For a brief moment, I didn't understand what it was.
Then the pain exploded.
The knife drove in hard, stealing the air from my lungs. I felt it twist once… twice… before it was ripped free. My body convulsed, but no scream came out. My voice died somewhere between my chest and my throat.
My vision blurred.
Rain soaked into my clothes as the warmth drained from my body.
I heard them step back.
"You made the right choice," she said softly. "Clean this up."
Footsteps faded into the night.
No sirens followed.
No one came running.
The world dimmed, collapsing inward as darkness swallowed everything.
There was no pain after that.
No sound.
No body.
Just endless black, thick and suffocating, pressing against my consciousness. Time lost meaning. I drifted, neither alive nor truly gone.
Then—
Ding.
The sound cut through the void, sharp and mechanical.
[Death confirmed.]
Words appeared before me, glowing faintly blue.
I tried to focus, but I had no eyes. No limbs. Just awareness.
[Host consciousness stabilized.]
[Cause of death: Betrayal.]
The word lingered longer than the rest.
Betrayal.
[Funeral detected.]
[Hidden conditions satisfied.]
Funeral?
Confusion rippled through my thoughts.
[The Funeral System is awakening…]
Before I could question it, an overwhelming force seized me.
It felt like being dragged upward from the depths of the ocean. Pressure crushed in from all sides as something pulled me violently toward the surface.
Air slammed into my lungs.
I gasped.
My body jerked hard.
Voices exploded around me.
"Oh my God!"
"He moved!"
"This isn't funny—who's doing this?!"
The smell hit me first.
Flowers. Incense. Melted wax.
My fingers brushed against smooth fabric—cool and unfamiliar.
My heart began to race.
Slowly, carefully, I opened my eyes.
Darkness.
Wooden panels inches from my face.
For a moment, my mind refused to accept it.
Then memory rushed back in fragments.
The knife.
The rain.
Their faces.
Realization struck like a hammer.
I was inside a coffin.
Buried.
At my own funeral.
Muffled sobs reached my ears.
"He was so young…" a woman whispered.
"Such a waste," another replied quietly.
Panic clawed at my chest. I tried to move, but my limbs felt stiff and heavy, as if they didn't belong to me anymore. My breath came out shallow, trapped in the narrow space.
I opened my mouth to scream.
No sound came.
Light bloomed suddenly before my eyes.
A translucent blue screen unfolded in the darkness.
[Welcome back, Host.]
[You have been granted one resurrection.]
Resurrection?
My thoughts froze.
[Resurrection conditions are irreversible.]
[Mercy will be punished.]
[Dominance will be rewarded.]
The panic slowly ebbed.
Something else took its place.
Cold.
Focused.
Another screen appeared.
[Current Status: Weak.]
[Public Identity: Deceased.]
[Recommended Action: Awaken.]
Outside the coffin, movement stirred.
The priest's voice echoed faintly. "We gather here today to mourn the passing of Ethan Cole…"
My name sounded distant, unreal.
A familiar voice trembled through the hall.
"He… he didn't deserve this," she said softly.
Lies.
My fingers curled into fists.
The coffin trembled.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
"Did you feel that?"
"What's happening?"
A final warning appeared before my eyes.
[Awakening will reveal your existence.]
[Proceed?]
I didn't hesitate.
Yes.
The lid shattered.
Wood splintered outward as I surged upward, dragging myself into the open air. I sucked in a deep breath, coughing as light flooded my vision.
Screams tore through the hall.
People stumbled back. Some fell. Others froze in terror.
I sat up slowly, chest rising and falling as my gaze swept across the room.
Black clothes. White walls. Faces drained of color.
Then I saw her.
Her umbrella lay forgotten on the floor. Her lips trembled as her eyes locked onto mine. Recognition dawned—and fear followed instantly.
I met her gaze.
And smiled.
A final notification glowed brightly before tell my eyes.
[Funeral Complete.]
[Stage One: Survival Begins.]
The hall descended into chaos.
But inside me, everything was calm.
If death itself couldn't keep me buried…
Then this world had made a terrible mistake.