Most transmigration novels start with a heroine who is cold eyed, top tier in their field and usually they're career choice is medical or life taking...literally.
But I wasn't any of that.
I was just a grad student who'd decided to go to china t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Author Note: This is my first attempt at a system/transmigration novel. I don't think I'll be super detail oriented and I may even switch btw past tense and present. But to me this is a rough draft.
I'm staring down at myself right now. Apart of me feels a sense of terror at the sight of blood slipping from between my lips and corners of my eyes. My limbs are twisted in different directions. The crowd around me releases shouts for help in several different dialects of Chinese.
I looked away from my broken body to the young woman I pushed out of the way. She's staring in my direction. I sort of expected her one of two ways.
One; terrified or two; horrified.
She's neither, she's staring at me with a look of annoyance.
Too bad I'm a ghost if I wasn't I'd walk over and smack her. Where does she get off being irritated with me?
I watch as she looked down at her legs, and notice that her stockings are now ripped to pieces, and there is a small amount of blood leaking from the wound. I feel pang of guilt, but it's short lived when she mutters a few choice curse words and stands up. "Damn, foreigner. No one asked you for help. Ugh, I'm going to be late.''
In shock I watched as she leaves.
That cold hearted bi—. "Ms. Adler."
Before I could rip into the psycho I'd given my life for a calm, nearly robotic voice called my name.
Stunned I spun around and spot a young Chinese boy standing at the edge of the crosswalk. Wearing a white shirt and white pants, he looks conspicuous in comparison to everything going on around us,
"You can see me?"
I am not only shocked but a bit hesitant to accept the reality of his speaking to me. He gives me a short nod. "Yes."
And then he smiles, it takes every ounce of discipline I have not to walk over and squeeze his cheeks. Instead, I choose to remain calm as I approached him. "Are you the grim reaper?"
He shakes his head, his black eyes shine with a mischievous light. "At least that's not my role today."
I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. "Then are you here to tell me that I'm going to hell for my questionable taste in yaoi?"
Again, he shook his head, but this time he gave me a look that me avert my gaze. I clear my throat. "So, what's the deal then?"
"The deal is you died at the wrong time," he said reaching into his back pocket he pulled out his cell phone. I spotted what looked to be the weibo logo as he logged in. "Every god manages his cultural realm, for god that's mostly the USA, Canada, Russia and Europe. For Allah, that's the Middle East and for me, well... all of east and south Asia."
