The King of the undead

Chapter 1- The Thompsons

The sirens blared on a peaceful Monday morning, slicing through the tranquillity like a knife. Reporters swarmed the scene, drawn to the faintest scent of crime, like hyenas waiting for their next meal. I pushed past them, sliding through the crowd with practised ease. I couldn't resist a mocking smile as I walked past the massive doors. "Gigantic doors aren't useful for protection after all... huh?"

It was a pity, really. I knew what was going to happen, but I couldn't do anything about it. Not yet, anyway.

A mechanical buzz hummed in my mind, like a fly stuck in a web, and the familiar voice of the system crackled to life. "System 101 is online... connecting to host's network... Hello, master. As the first host to enter this world, you will have to carry quite a burden but worry not, it will not be that hard to complete. After all, it is one of the E-level worlds."

The system's words sounded so cheerful, and motivational. I knew better. It was as sly as a fox, a product of what it had once been—a human. A former human, I corrected myself. "Alex, move those twig legs faster! The evidence isn't going to walk to your hands!" an officer barked at me, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I sighed, rolling my eyes as I shifted back to reality. Another day, another round of being pushed around by seniors. I was starting to wonder if this would ever stop (since I was too lazy to intervene and waste my precious time).

My current body's identity was Alex Smith. Age 25. Ordinary looks—charcoal hair, brown eyes. Nothing special, no hidden talents. He had finished writing his POST (Police Officer Selection Test) and was now under field training with a man named John, who had the charming habit of barking orders like a drill sergeant. The kind of man who treats juniors like slaves. And to be fair, this man was partially responsible for my new body's premature death. Stress had piled up over time, eventually leading to his accidental death—choking on a slice of bread. Not exactly a heroic way to go.

It was a pathetic way to die, and an even more pathetic way to collect regret. But life—or rather, the afterlife—had bigger plans for me. HQ had sent me who was one of their great employees to work my bones to dust, and so here I was, a demon trapped in a human body, collecting souls through a series of worlds. They also had their filthy guts to dub me as the "Most Idiotic Demon" for an unfair reason. I mean, all I tried to do was burn down HQ and, okay, assassinate my already-dead boss—just to taste a slice of freedom. Sounds reasonable, right? I mean, who wouldn't want that? But no, instead of getting that sweet escape, I got hit with a lifetime sentence of grinding for points. And let me tell you, the pay? It's a joke. I need to earn a million points and the minimum pay. A measly 1,000 points just to break even.

At least this world had a story worth telling—one that kept me hooked, even if it was all a bit messed up. Billionaires from City A were found murdered in their lavish mansion. Fun fact—HQ was much bigger than this, so, to me, their mansion looked like a peasant's home. The case was closed with no witnesses, and the family was supposedly "nice," which made it difficult to track down any enemies. The case quickly became an "accidental family suicide," a bizarre notion, but one that suited the city's insatiable need for a neat, bite-sized story. The media forgot about it almost immediately.

No one cared to dig deeper. No one cared about the Thompsons, their company's troubles, or their massive debt due to a fraud investment. Evidence had emerged, but it was quickly buried. The case was abandoned as quickly as it had been opened, and in the void of attention, the Thompsons' souls were trapped. They never reached reincarnation. Their resentment built over the years, a slow, bitter boil.

Now, here I was, stuck in this body, with this job, forced to clean up the mess of a case no one wanted to finish. My goal? Collect points. Lots of them. The longer I stayed, the more I was reminded of how far I had fallen, from a king of souls to a pawn in some twisted game.