Viagem Sombria ao Passado
"Meu nome é Chen Kun." "Nesta vida, não tenho medo de nada, exceto de fantasmas." ... Chen Kun atravessou para um mundo estranho. Neste mundo moderno, durante o dia tudo funciona normalmente, mas à noite, centenas de fantasmas vagueiam pela cidade. Desde pequeno, ele sempre teve pavor de fantasmas, e agora, com o nível de medo ao máximo, encara esse mundo extremamente hostil com total desespero nos olhos. Quando, tremendo da cabeça aos pés, ele encontra-se sozinho no centro de um mar de cadáveres e sangue, cercado por incontáveis corpos de monstros e espíritos, sua voz trêmula murmura: "Eu realmente tenho muito medo de fantasmas..." "Eu odeio este mundo repleto de criaturas sobrenaturais..." "Só me resta... matar todos vocês. Se eu matar todos, não vou mais ter medo..." Naquele dia, chegou um novato à cidade de Qingyuan, um jogador iniciante cujo índice de medo era de 52%, avaliado com potencial de nível E.
Viagem Sombria ao Passado
“My name is Chen Kun.”
“In my life, I fear nothing—except ghosts.”
...
In this bustling city, sunlight poured generously over every corner. The faint blare of car horns drifted in through the window, but it did nothing to relax Chen Kun, who sat rigid and tense in the office building. Sweat pooled in his palms, breath shallow and quick.
A sense of impending doom lingered, haunting his thoughts.
“My rent is due in seven days. I need to find a way to earn some points fast, or the landlord will take back the apartment, and if I’m out at night, it’ll be the end of me.”
“Don’t even mention it. My grandmother has dementia. Last night, while we slept, she slipped out the door, and today she hasn’t come back. Who knows where she died.”
“My place is in a bad neighborhood. Every night I hear all sorts of strange noises. I’ve got to make money and move to a better home.”
It was noon.
The office workers, while tapping away at their phones to order lunch, chatted about topics that made one’s skin crawl. Normally, conversations at this time would center around what to eat, with someone inevitably exclaiming, “Wow, you’re loaded, ordering something so expensive!”—that would be the usual, light-hearted office banter.
But today, the atmosphere felt all wrong.
...
His name was Chen Kun, twenty-five years old.
This was his first day in this world.
The good news: before he crossed over, he had been strapped to a gurney, awaiting execution by lethal injection. In a way, arriving here meant he’d narrowly escap
