The Fashion and Design class at the vocational high school was, as usual, a chaotic mess. The air was heavy, and despite the summer heat pouring in through open windows, the noise inside drowned out the street sounds. In the front rows, a group of girls had started a livestream on the IkGok platform, begging viewers for gifts to win rewards. "Come on, send a gift, please!" they chirped, their fake smiles beaming on the screens. In the back, other girls were touching up their makeup in front of mirrors, while some whispered—or more—with their boyfriends in corners. Nobody cared. Near the teacher's desk, a figure lay sprawled on the floor: fat, gasping for breath, surrounded by crushed sandwich scraps. That was me. Ken Chen. My name was a shadow in this school, barely remembered.
It all started in the hallway. Lost in thought, I wasn't watching where I was going and bumped into Daniel's sandwich. Daniel, the school's golden boy. His blond hair spilled out in rebellious waves from under his cap, and his hazel eyes sparkled like they reflected sunlight. In his basketball shorts and expensive sneakers, every step screamed, "I'm here." Girls worshipped him, and he knew it. But his eyes, his hair—I didn't care. When the sandwich hit the floor, his face darkened.
"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THAT SANDWICH COST, YOU LOSER?" he roared. His voice echoed through the classroom, and all eyes turned to us.
I thought about apologizing, but a voice inside me said, "Who cares?" Unfortunately, that voice slipped out. Daniel's eyes narrowed, like a predator locking onto prey. In an instant, he grabbed my neck. His hand was sweaty and gross, but I had no strength to resist. "You look hungry today, fat buffalo," he said with a mocking grin. "Eat up, get full!"
He shoved my face into the ground, into the squashed salami of the sandwich. My nose throbbed with pain, and the salami was forced into my mouth. Hold on, I told myself. Hold on, Ken. But the classroom turned into an arena. The livestreaming girls swung their cameras toward me, shouting, "There's a fight!" to draw viewers. Even the kissing couples paused to sneak glances. Everyone was shouting: "DANIEL! DANIEL! DANIEL!" It was like a gladiator match, and I was the one pinned to the ground.
It lasted for minutes. My head scraped the floor, my face covered in dirt and breadcrumbs. Finally, Ai Yuki, one of the popular but somewhat compassionate girls, touched Daniel's shoulder. "Enough," she said softly. Daniel shook his hands off like he'd touched something filthy, then kicked my butt hard with the tip of his shoe. I collapsed, breathless. Daniel smirked and returned to his seat, surrounded by girls gazing at him in awe.
Just then, the teacher, Ms. Li, walked in, her usual weary self. Seeing me on the floor, she raised an eyebrow and nudged me with her foot. "Get up, Ken. Don't dirty the classroom," she said. The class erupted in laughter. My face burned, my nose was bleeding, my lips caked with dust and grime. I struggled to my feet. The teacher, as if nothing had happened, said, "Go to the bathroom, wash your face." The laughter followed me.
In the hallway, I walked with my head down. Groups of girls giggled as they passed, some pointing and whispering. I started running, my belly bouncing, my chest slapping against it with a disgusting sound. In the bathroom, I looked in the mirror. A fat, sweaty, bloody face. I hated myself.
While doing my business in a stall, I noticed a camera peeking over from the next one. My nerves snapped. "What the hell are you doing!" I shouted, bursting out. There stood Hideo, red-haired, volleyball team captain, one of the school's nastiest guys. He grinned. "Chill, fatty. Just having fun," he said. I wanted to grab his collar, but he was too quick. He tripped me, and I hit the ground. He grabbed my hand, crushing my fingers. I groaned in pain.
Soon, the bathroom filled with cigarette smoke. Hideo and his crew had dragged classroom desks in, setting up a gambling table. A kid with a black, mushroom-shaped haircut shouted, "Alright, boys, bets are open! Ken Chen's in for 3000 yuan, anyone raising?"
Why was I here? Hideo had given me "a chance" to avoid a beating, but it was a disgusting trap. I was at the gambling table, surrounded by mocking stares. Second-years ran these gambling games to make money. Everyone knew, but no one spoke up. 3000 yuan? If I had that kind of money, I wouldn't be here.
The game went on, and I lost every round. Finally, I said, trembling, "I don't have any money." A kid grabbed my collar. "What do you mean, none? You'll pay up, one way or another!" he snarled. I begged, but he didn't listen. He spat in my face, then ripped off my shirt. "A souvenir," he said mockingly. I was left in my underwear and undershirt, surrounded by laughter.
Hours later, I was walking the streets. It was dark, and rain was falling. In my torn clothes, half-naked, I stumbled toward home. People stared from their windows. My tears had dried, but shame, anger, and helplessness consumed me. I was ashamed to face my crush, my relatives, anyone. Why me? I'd been bullied since day one at this school. Maybe because I accidentally sat next to a girl, maybe just for existing. I didn't know.
Once, I'd tried to kill myself. The doctor's words still rang in my ears: "Kid, you're lucky you're fat. If your veins were closer to the surface, you'd have bled out. Haha!" Damn jerk.
When I got home, my mom wasn't there yet. I threw myself into the bathroom and collapsed on the floor. The rain had washed away my tears, but the storm inside me raged on. On the cold tiles, exhausted, I fell asleep.
Then everything changed. It was like I was being pulled out of my body. The world trembled, blurring. My soul, like a puppet cut from its strings, left my body. I saw my mom. She was running home, her face panicked. She leaned over me, giving me CPR. "Mom, I'm here!" I wanted to scream, but no sound came. What was happening? Was I dead?
Time slipped. My life flashed before my eyes. Baseball games with my dad, the first ice cream my mom bought me, my first computer, my first friend… All the "firsts" played like a film reel. I wanted to cry, but even this damn soul couldn't. Then I found myself in a graveyard. My mom was sobbing at my tombstone, buried next to my dad's. Besides her and a few relatives, no one was there. I'd known so many people, but no one came. Damn it.
I was furious. I could've changed. I could've been strong. But I ran like a coward, gave up. I died pathetically—half-naked, walking home in the rain, passing out in the bathroom. The world was unfair. I reached for my mom one last time, but I couldn't touch her. I sank to the ground, but I couldn't even feel it. Even in this pathetic state, I was useless.
Then the world lit up. A blue screen floated before me, golden words glowing:
Development System Activated!
User has been granted another chance. The system has responded to all your pleas. Does the user accept the system? Yes/No
I was stunned. I didn't want to live. I was done. I reached for No, but my hand shook. Just as I was about to press it, the screen flickered, and new text appeared:
Due to unhealthy psychological conditions, the user's authority to accept has been revoked. System initializing.
I felt my strength draining. They wouldn't even let me die. The world went dark, and I… vanished.