Chapter 182: A New Script
A low, steady beep. That was the first sensation.
Then, softness. The sheets beneath his fingers were impossibly smooth, with a thread count that felt alien and luxurious. The air was sterile, carrying an antiseptic tang, but underneath it, a faint, alluring scent of spider lilies and expensive perfume.
He opened his eyes.
The ceiling was unfamiliar—dark, polished metal, reflecting a soft, recessed light. This wasn't his... wherever "his" was. This wasn't his body.
He sat up, the silken sheet pooling around a torso that felt... wrong. It was lighter, thinner, and his limbs felt uncoordinated, as if they belonged to someone else.
"He's awake."
The voice was musical, calm, and held an unmistakable edge of amusement. He turned, his heart hammering.
Two women stood in the soft light of the room.
One, a girl with pale, flowing silver-grey hair, looked anxious. She wore a high-tech, armored suit that seemed partially deactivated, revealing a simple green dress underneath. Her hands were clasped nervously in front of her.
The other woman... she was a masterpiece of danger. She leaned against the wall, a calm, knowing smile on her lips, her wine-red eyes seeming to look straight through him, cataloging his confusion. She wore a stylish black coat, and her presence filled the room, eclipsing the sterile environment.
"It's alright, Firefly," the woman said, her voice never losing its smooth cadence. "Confusion is normal after a 'rebirth'."
"Rebirth?" he managed, his voice hoarse. His throat felt dry, unused. "Who... who are you? Where am I?"
The girl, Firefly, stepped forward, her movements a bit jerky. "I'm Firefly! And this is Kafka. We... well, we found you. You're on our ship."
"Found me?" His head throbbed. He tried to access his last memory. Flashing lights... the shriek of tires... "A truck..." he muttered. "A car accident?"
Kafka's smile widened. "Something like that."
His mind raced, desperately trying to piece it all together. A car accident. A high-tech, futuristic room. A new, unfamiliar body. Two beautiful, strangely dressed women.
He had read this script before. He'd seen it in countless webnovels. An utterly absurd, yet horrifyingly plausible thought surfaced.
This is a transmigration plot! I died, was hit by the legendary 'Truck-kun,' and now I'm in a new, magical world!
His gaze darted between the two. The anxious, slightly naive one (Firefly) and the mature, alluring, dangerous one (Kafka).
Oh, gods... it's a harem plot!
His mind spiraled, trying to analyze the situation. Okay, okay, analyze. Kafka is clearly the main wife, the 'leader' type. She's the one in charge. Firefly is the 'new lover' or perhaps the 'childhood friend' type, probably the mecha-piloting girl, given her suit. I've been in an accident... but wait.
He looked down at his intact, healthy body. Why do I feel so weak? What did they 'find'?
"Wait," he said, his voice strained as he latched onto the only piece of data that didn't fit. "What did Firefly mean... 'just a head'?"
Firefly winced, looking absolutely horrified. "Ah! Kafka, he heard me!"
Kafka just chuckled, her wine-red eyes fixed on him, dripping with amusement. "That's right," she said.
The delusion shattered, replaced by a colder, more terrifying reality. My... my head?
My god, this isn't a harem plot! It's a body-horror sci-fi!
His mind went into overdrive, constructing a new, even more melodramatic scenario. My philandering was exposed, I had an accident, and they fought over my body, but only my head survived! They transplanted my head onto this new, weaker body... and now they've come to contend for ownership of me!
He stared at Kafka, then at Firefly. Main wife... new lover... a disembodied head... This plot is too insane! Reality can't be this twisted!
"It seems his mind is still very confused," Kafka observed, her smile unwavering. She gave Firefly a look. "Firefly, could you step out for a moment? I need to talk to him alone."
"But, Kafka... he just woke up..." Firefly looked uneasy.
"Be good. Go make me a cup of coffee," Kafka said gently, but her voice left no room for argument.
Firefly looked at Kafka, then at him, her expression a mix of pity and frustration. She finally stomped her foot. "Got it!" Before leaving, she shot him a complex glare. "...I'll find you later!"
The door hissed shut. Only he and Kafka remained. The sterile smell of the room was now completely overpowered by her scent of spider lilies and ozone.
She slowly walked to a high-backed chair near the bed and sat down, elegantly crossing her long legs.
"So..." she propped her chin on her finger, her wine-red eyes fixed on him. "Do you have anything you want to ask?"
He had too many questions. He took a stabilizing breath. "Who are you? And... what did you mean... about my head?"
The smile on Kafka's face deepened, as if she was enjoying a private joke. "My name is Kafka. As for our relationship... you can see me as... the one who pulled you back from 'the End'."
"'The End'?" The word made his heart skip a beat, feeling terribly familiar.
"Yes. Everyone's destiny has a 'script'. Yours... broke a long time ago. We just... helped you reconnect it." She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward slightly, the motion captivating.
"And what Firefly said was literal. Your past, your memories, your entire body... they all vanished in a rather brutal war. We took a lot of effort to find your 'thinking' head from the dust of the universe."
His pupils contracted. War... cosmic dust... a thinking head...
"Vanished? But my body is clearly still here..." He touched his arm, feeling the incredibly real, warm flesh.
"Hmm... regarding this, we were also very surprised," Kafka looked at him with genuine, almost scientific interest. "When we found you, honestly, you were just a head, frozen in the void. We originally planned to find a new vessel for you."
She paused. "But Elio said it would be best to let you try it yourself."
"Elio?"
"Our leader. He sees the 'script'. He said you were... special." Kafka continued, "So, we just defrosted your head and put you in the medical pod, nourishing you with the highest concentration of nutrient fluid. But unexpectedly... in just a few days, your body grew back on its own. From the neck down. Bones, flesh... regenerating at an extremely fast, almost... greedy rate."
"...It grew back?" He was stunned. Growing a body from just a head? What kind of monster was he?
"Why did you save me?" he asked, his voice low.
"Because Elio needs you. In his 'script,' you are an indispensable part. A key player."
Kafka stood up, her movement fluid and silent. She walked over to him, standing by his bedside. The height difference was... intimidating. Her shadow fell over him.
"Alright, enough small talk. Now, it's your turn to make a choice."
"A choice?"
"Yes." She bent down slightly, her face close to his, her eyes gazing into his. Her beauty was overwhelming up close, but her aura was suffocating. "We never force anyone. You have two choices."
"First, join us—the Stellaron Hunters. And embark on another, absolutely not boring life."
[Inorin's Note: The Stellaron Hunters are a mysterious faction led by Elio, dedicated to following his "script" by collecting Stellarons across the universe.]
"Second," she continued, her voice soft, "tell us where you want to go. Your hometown, or anywhere else. We will safely send you there, and then, we will never meet again."
This choice seemed fair, but... where could someone with amnesia go? "I... where am I from?"
"The Xianzhou."
Kafka softly uttered the word.
Xianzhou... The word was like a key, violently prying open a sealed, blood-soaked door in his mind.
BOOM—!
It wasn't a memory. It was a sensory assault. Endless white light! Golden arrows! A collapsing world... a massive ship of jade and stars, tearing itself apart...
"NEERGUL—!!!"
"JIANG LI—!!!"
"Ugh ah—!" A violent, tearing headache instantly struck. He clutched his head in agony, collapsing back onto the bed, a scream caught in his throat as his mind fractured.
"Listen to me... don't think about it." A hand wearing a purple glove gently pressed on his head. Kafka's voice, now soft and soothing, seemed to carry a strange, hypnotic magic. The tearing pain slowly, agonizingly, subsided, pushed back down into the darkness.
[Inorin's Note: Kafka possesses a powerful "Spirit Whisper" ability, allowing her to hypnotize and mentally influence others with her voice.]
"See?" she whispered. "Past memories are poison to you now. Even so, do you still want to choose to go back?"
He gasped for breath, his forehead covered in cold sweat. The feeling of that moment was so real, so desperate. Go back? Go back to that? His body, his soul, instinctively recoiled in terror.
"I..." He looked up at her, at this woman who had saved him and could just as easily end him. His choice was made by that agonizing pain. "I... want to stay here."
Hearing his answer, Kafka's face showed a predictable, satisfied smile. "A wise choice. Welcome to the Stellaron Hunters, Orion."
She stepped back, her professional, yet alluring demeanor returning. "Oh, and..." She suddenly blinked, her expression turning playful. "Please forget those absurd and melodramatic delusions you had earlier... 'Main wife,' 'new lover,' 'contending for ownership'... They're too unhealthy."
He froze, his cheeks, which had been pale from pain, now feeling a little hot. She was referring to the little scenario he had just imagined...
Wait. How did she know?
"However..." she leaned close again, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. Her breath, like an orchid, brushed his ear as she leaned in. Her wine-red eyes held a dangerous, alluring smile.
"...Why not tell me directly? Maybe I'll agree."
His heart skipped a beat. Looking at this dangerous and captivating woman, he found that he felt no repulsion.
Instead... he was somewhat drawn to her. This... was going to be an interesting life indeed.