Ring…
Ring…
With the loud, jarring ringtone echoing through the small room, a boy in his twenties stirred from his bed, his body slumped and his face buried under a pile of messy blankets. He looked disheveled—his clothes hung loosely off his frame, and dark circles sat under his eyes like bruises, as heavy as lead.
"Ugh… so noisy this early in the morning." He muttered under his breath.
With a sluggish, reluctant movement, he rose from his bed, his body still heavy from exhaustion. Not complaining—not because he didn't want to, but because it wouldn't change anything—he dragged himself toward the washroom. A cold splash of water helped him stay awake, and a fresh shower cooled off his pounding head. He let the steam envelop him, washing away the tension in his shoulders, even if only for a short while.
He had so many things to do today. So many tasks stacked one after another. And just like every other morning lately, he could already feel it: this was going to be another hellish day.
Although Yang Hai was just a college student, the kind of stress and workload he was facing wasn't normal—not by a long shot. It wasn't supposed to be this way. But ever since he got dragged into that group project, everything changed.
The group wasn't some ordinary academic team—it was more like a dumping ground, and he was the only one left standing. Wang Sho, the smug, silver-spoon-fed second-gen, had been the one to pull him in. At first, Yang Hai thought it might help him. Maybe get some solid grades. Maybe even make a few connections.
Instead, all the responsibilities fell squarely on his shoulders.
Everyone else vanished. Sometimes they'd hang around for show, but the moment work appeared, they were gone—off to party, date, or just loaf around while Yang Hai stayed back, drowning in unfinished reports, broken presentations, and looming deadlines.
And yet, he couldn't say no.
He couldn't afford to.
That scholarship—his lifeline—was hanging by a thread. If he failed, it would vanish. And with it, the fragile financial support that allowed his parents to survive. Their economic situation was already shaky enough; this scholarship wasn't just for him. It was for them.
Wang Sho knew that. Maybe that's why he picked him in the first place. An easy target. A quiet, tired, overburdened introvert who wouldn't dare push back.
Yang Hai didn't have the charisma to rally people. He didn't have the confidence to demand fairness. He didn't even have the time to vent properly.
So, day by day, he forced himself forward—exhausted, anxious, but determined to get through it.
At least until he collapsed from it all.
Or until someone—anyone—noticed the pressure tearing him apart.
As he returned to the classroom, Yang Hai, unsurprisingly, found no one from his group present. Not that he expected otherwise. With a small, tired smile, he silently took his seat and opened his laptop, checking where he had left off the previous day. Then, as he always did, he dived back into the work—his fingers moving with robotic precision, mind dulled by repetition.
After hours of exhausting effort, Yang Hai finally managed to finish a portion of the overwhelming workload. He exhaled deeply and began to shut everything down, already feeling the strain crawl across his shoulders and neck.
"Ohh... look at that! He's here! He's here!" a loud voice rang out suddenly.
Startled, Yang Hai looked up to see Wang Sho entering the room with his usual entourage of idle freeloaders. Their laughter echoed through the near-empty classroom.
"Good work, Brother Yang. I knew from the start I could count on you," Wang Sho said with a grin that never reached his eyes.
His words didn't comfort Yang Hai—they only made the exhaustion feel heavier. He had no strength to retort, but he knew if he didn't speak up now, these people would continue taking advantage of him. There was still too much left, and he couldn't do it all alone.
"Thank you, but I think... well... let's do some work too, or else it won't be finished in time," Yang Hai said quietly, voice soft but resolute.
At that, one of the boys chuckled—a strange, mocking sound.
Wang Sho turned toward Yang Hai, smiling wide as he walked up to him. "Did I not make it clear?" he said smoothly. "I said... I'm counting on you, Brother Yang."
With that twisted smile still plastered on his face, Wang Sho suddenly grabbed Yang Hai's shoulder and squeezed hard. Pain shot through Yang Hai's arm, and his face twitched slightly, but he didn't pull away.
"I won't say it again," Wang Sho muttered low, before finally releasing his grip and walking off, laughing with his group as if nothing had happened.
Yang Hai sat there in silence, his body stiff and pale. His eyes followed the group, something intense flickering deep behind them—not fear of Wang Sho himself, but fear of the power that stood behind him. The family. The influence. The kind of influence that could crush a student's future with a single whispered word.
"Fucking shit..." he muttered under his breath, the words slipping out more like a sigh than a curse.
He slumped against the desk for a moment, drawing in slow, heavy breaths. Then, pushing himself up, he quietly walked out of the classroom. The hallway was quiet, and the moment he stepped outside, a breeze met his face. He looked up at the sky—wide, blue, and empty—and a sigh escaped his lips.
This wasn't how his summer vacation was supposed to be.
There were still two weeks left before the semester officially resumed. But with everything he had been tasked with, Yang Hai already knew—there would be no free time. No break. No rest.
Only more work and the suffocating pressure that came with it.
"Well, my name is Yang Hai."
A reincarnator—someone who had died once and been reborn. He had opened his eyes on this blue planet, one eerily similar to Earth, yet undeniably different.
On the surface, this world mirrored Earth's technology and development. But as he delved deeper, Yang Hai discovered things that should have belonged only in fiction—powerful family syndicates, shadowy mafias, and strange societal hierarchies woven into everyday life. It took time to adjust, but Yang Hai eventually found his footing.
Being an adult mentally, he possessed the kind of insight and maturity far beyond his physical age. That alone allowed him to quickly rise above others in his age group. His intelligence and behavior earned him a reputation as a genius—something that made him cringe on the inside, given the truth of his reincarnation. Still, playing the part had its benefits.
Thanks to his "gifted" persona, he secured a place at Central University—a prestigious institution known not just for its education system but also for its powerful connections and influence across the surrounding cities. It was a place filled with privilege, opportunity, and hidden currents beneath its polished surface.
Among students from other universities, Yang Hai was considered elite—a top-tier student from a top-tier college.
But what they didn't know—what no one outside really understood—was the reality inside Central University.
And how rotten it truly was.
Thinking about everything only made Yang Hai grit his teeth in frustration. Anger surged beneath his calm exterior, but he knew better than to act on it now. Revenge is a dish best served cold, after all. So, for now, he had no choice but to swallow the bitterness and keep moving forward.
Silently, he walked back toward the apartment he currently lived in—one that technically belonged to his aunt, a close friend of his mother. Yang Hai couldn't help but consider himself lucky. Rent in this city was absurdly high, far beyond what a student like him could ever afford on his own. If not for this arrangement, he'd probably be stuck in some shoebox-sized dorm or worse.
It had already been a month since he moved in, but strangely enough, Yang Hai had yet to see his aunt even once. She was always away—constantly traveling for work, according to what little he knew. In fact, he wasn't even sure what she looked like.
When he returned to the empty apartment, silence greeted him like an old friend. Without bothering to eat—despite the gnawing hunger in his stomach—he headed straight to his room. His body was too drained. At that moment, rest mattered more than food.
He dropped onto the bed and exhaled deeply, eyes half-lidded.
That's when he noticed a few notifications blinking on his smartphone screen.
Curious despite himself, he picked up the phone and opened it. Amid the usual university messages and app spam, one unfamiliar notification stood out—an invitation from something called LinkIn Group, a platform he barely remembered installing.
A strange group name appeared in the invite.
Dimensional Chat Group.
He blinked at the words, muttering them under his breath. "Dimensional... Chat Group?"
The name alone left him speechless for a moment. It sounded ridiculous—like something out of a low-budget webnovel. And yet... he couldn't ignore the odd pull in his chest. A faint, silent urge stirred deep within him, urging him to tap the link.
He didn't know why.
But he felt an urge to join that group.