My name is Noah.
I'm 26 years old and, to be honest, painfully average. Average height, average face. I don't have a girlfriend, and I've never been in love. Not even close.
My parents died in a car accident when I was ten. Since then, I bounced from one state-run orphanage to another.
I don't have many hobbies, either. The only thing I find enjoyment is in webnovels and late-night gaming sessions.
Oh, and I'm unemployed.
Have been for a while now.
-Ding-
[We regret to inform you that your application has been rejected. We wish you the best of luck for you future]
I stared blankly at the screen before tossing my phone onto the bed.
"At this point, I'm not even surprised. That makes six rejections this month."
I let out a tired sigh and sank deeper into my mattress. The ceiling fan spun slowly overhead, creaking with each turn—mocking me.
Hope was slipping through my fingers like sand.
Then suddenly—
I blinked. My phone lit up again, but this time it was a call.
"It's him," I muttered, recognizing the name on the screen.
I picked it up and pressed it to my ear.
"Yo! Wanna come over and play FIFA?"
"Yeah, I'm down."
It wasn't like I had anything better to do.
"Pick up some snacks on the way, alright?"
"Sure thing."
I hung up and slipped the phone into my hoodie pocket. That was Ricky—my best friend since middle school. Probably the only person who still called me just to hang out.
After grabbing some chips and a couple of energy drinks from the convenience store, I called a taxi and sat on the back seat.
"Riverside Apartments," I told the driver.
The taxi rolled forward, and we pulled onto the main road. The city buzzed around us, the usual noises of honking horns and distant sirens.
Then—something felt off.
I heard a deep rumble from behind us, followed by a screech.
My head turned just in time to see it.
A massive truck. Speeding. Its driver slumped forward, clearly unconscious.
It was headed straight for us.
"No—!"
CRASH!
The world flipped.
Metal twisted. Glass shattered. Pain erupted through my entire body. My ears rang, and the scent of blood filled my nose.
Voices screamed around me, distant and muffled.
"Call an ambulance!"
"He's not breathing right!"
"He's not gonna make it..."
Is this how it ends?
Was this really all I'd accomplished?
Even in my final moments, all I could feel was regret. Not fear. Not anger. Just a deep, aching emptiness.
My vision blurred.
Everything went black.
---
Wahhhhhhh
I cried out for air. My voice was high-pitched and shrill. My surroundings were bright and unfamiliar.
A luxurious room. Silken curtains. Warm lighting.
And people.
A beautiful woman hovered over me with tearful eyes. Beside her stood a handsome man, his hands trembling.
Nurses moved swiftly around me, tending to the room and speaking softly.
I looked at my hands—tiny, soft, unfamiliar.
Then I saw it. Floating above me like a hologram:
> [Congratulations, Host!!]
What... the hell?
---