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Chapter 1 – Refined Version
The battlefield was shrouded in smoke and filled with screams.
Soldiers fell, their blood pooling into filthy stains on the ground.
A young soldier panicked, trembling as the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his head.
"Die…" – the enemy muttered, pulling the trigger.
…
Instead of a gunshot, he opened his eyes to see a red-haired man casually perched in front of him.
"Y-you… saved me?" – he stammered, his heart pounding.
The red-haired man smirked.
"Wanna try it? Swap bodies, become a god for seven days. Then come back—stronger, richer… but, of course, there's a price."
Looking at his fallen comrades, the young soldier swallowed hard. Then he nodded.
A handshake. The world flipped upside down.
…
In an instant, the gun was snatched from the enemy's hand, spun around, and fired.
Blood sprayed everywhere. The soldier—or whatever was inside his body now—twisted, snapping the necks of two others like they were dry branches.
His commander's eyes went wide, only able to clutch his wounds in trembling disbelief.
"Stay here." – the soldier's voice cut cold, sending shivers down the commander's spine.
The enemy commander tried to retreat and drew his gun. Crack! – his arm shattered into pieces.
He was tied to a tree, a filthy sock shoved into his mouth.
The two commanders looked at each other… both now equally terrified of the same thing.
…
The young soldier rifled through the enemy's supplies. His eyes lit up when he found a crate of beer.
"Oh… perfect."
He sat down and started chugging. First can, second… the metallic clink on the ground echoed.
By the fifteenth can, his eyes were bloodshot, and he laughed like a madman.
The two commanders exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to fear his strength or his drunkenness in the middle of the battlefield.
…
In another dimension—the real soldier had been transported elsewhere.
He opened his eyes to a ruined wasteland, buildings collapsed, no life remaining but the howling wind.
A five-year-old boy, white-furred like a wolf pup, ran over and handed him a soda can.
"Thanks…" – he whispered, a small smile on his lips.
The boy nodded, then vanished into a tiny portal as if this were the most ordinary thing in the world.
He—now called Reaper—silently examined his new power, feeling the pulse of life… only to find none left.
Nothing but the aftermath of destruction, and a bleak, uncertain future.
…
Meanwhile, on the battlefield, the young soldier lay drunk, digging a hole and collapsing into it, sleeping among the dead and the echoes of gunfire.
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