When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on a sofa. I quickly looked around, only to realize the room was completely empty—aside from the sofa I was sitting on. The white room, illuminated by a warm ceiling light, was so quiet that I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my chest. I didn't know why it was beating so fast—maybe because I had just been burned to death, or maybe because I was in an unfamiliar place. Confused, I looked around for any clue that could explain my bizarre situation.
After a few minutes, I began imagining different scenarios of what might have happened, each thought getting wilder and wilder until my head started to ache. The only logical explanation I could come up with was that I had died. Maybe this was heaven—or perhaps hell. Given my habit of cursing at God, I was definitely leaning toward the latter.
Slowly, the emptiness of the white room began to make me panic. "Hello? Is anyone here?" I shouted, hoping someone would answer—anything to silence my terrifying thoughts.
As if responding to my plea, a door appeared out of thin air. From it stepped a middle-aged man who looked exactly like the famous actor Keanu Reeves. He was holding a notebook, wearing sunglasses, and had a calm smile on his face.
He walked over and sat down on a chair that appeared just as the door had, sitting across from me. Taking off his sunglasses, he looked me in the eyes. "So, you finally decided to wake up. Don't panic. I'm what you would call an angel. You've died—but the good news is, you won the lottery."
He twirled his sunglasses in one hand while writing something in his notebook, a faint smile on his lips. I stared at him, dumbfounded, before asking the question burning inside me. "Aren't you… Keanu Reeves?"
He smiled wider. Pulling the chair closer, he leaned toward me until he was just a hand's distance away. "Don't I look cool? He's my favorite actor. I'm a big fan, so I borrowed his appearance. We angels usually get bored up here, so we watch a lot of movies. Out of all of them, my favorite is John Wick. What about you? Do you like John Wick?"
The angel looked at me with a spark of curiosity—or maybe hope—in his eyes. Not wanting to disappoint him, I quickly smiled and replied, "Yes, it's my favorite too."
His grin widened. He looked at me the same way a Warhammer fan looks at someone who shares their passion. Excitedly, he asked, "Which John Wick movie is your favorite? And why? Did you see him on Earth with your own eyes? How is he? How many times did you watch the movie? What is—"
He bombarded me with questions without giving me time to answer. He was clearly excited, talking about his favorite actor. Then, suddenly, he stopped—as if an invisible force had silenced him. He straightened his posture and said in a professional tone, "Sorry about that. Let's talk about the lottery you won."
I stared at him, confused by the sudden shift—from crazy fan to serious official in seconds.
Seeing my expression, he began to explain, "God created a lottery system where certain people who die under specific conditions get selected. You happened to meet all of them. You were chopping down a tree that was the same age as you, during the rain, and were killed by that same tree while it was on fire. Congratulations!"
I wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but at least I was happy to have won something in my life. "So… what did I win?" I asked, my eyes full of expectation for the first time in a long while.
The angel smiled. "You won the lottery of the afterlife. It means you'll be transmigrated into a fictional world." He glanced at his notebook and continued, "And it looks like… you'll be going to The Walking Dead. Enjoy."
As soon as he said that, a red door appeared in the room. The angel gestured toward it. "Walk through that door, and you'll find yourself in The Walking Dead world. Good luck on your journey."
I froze, horrified. I knew how dangerous The Walking Dead was. The scariest thing wasn't the walkers—it was the humans. "What!? Can't I pick the world?" I asked desperately.
The angel shook his head, avoiding eye contact.
"The Walking Dead universe is dangerous! How am I supposed to survive there? Can I at least have a power or ability to help me?" I pleaded, my hand trembling.
Again, he shook his head, looking down as if afraid to meet my gaze.
"Then how the hell is this a lottery? This sounds more like a nightmare!" I shouted in frustration. The idea of being thrown into a zombie apocalypse terrified me. I could barely live without my phone—how was I supposed to survive in a world filled with man-eating corpses and desperate humans willing to eat their own kind?
Seeing my anger and fear, the angel's expression softened. "I'm sorry. It's called a lottery because you were originally supposed to be punished for hundreds of years. Now, you're free from punishment."
That explanation didn't help much. I was still anxious. But seeing me like that, the angel smiled kindly. "I like you. So, as a thank-you for listening to me—and for being a fan of Keanu Reeves—I'll use my special privilege to help you."
Hearing that, I instantly brightened up. Maybe being a fan finally paid off.
"You can choose any fantasy character's body to live in for your next life," he said. "But don't pick anyone too powerful for The Walking Dead universe. For example, you can choose someone like John Wick, the Punisher, or James Bond. Just remember—you'll get their body, not their memories or skills."
At first, I was thrilled. But his last words extinguished my excitement. What good was John Wick's body without his skills? I'd still just be a normal person. Then suddenly, an idea struck me—Agent 47.
He was genetically engineered to possess peak human physical condition, strength, speed, endurance, and senses—everything at the pinnacle of human capability. Even without his fighting skills, his body alone would give me a huge chance of survival in The Walking Dead.
"I want to be Agent 47," I said firmly.
The angel went completely silent. The room became so quiet again that I could hear my heartbeat—just like when I first woke up. His face grew tense. After a long pause, he sighed and said seriously, "Okay, I'll allow it. But know this—the world will be a little… different. You could even say it's more difficult, to keep things balanced. So be careful."
I exhaled in relief, thankful he agreed. "Thank you for granting my request. I'm forever grateful," I said sincerely.
He nodded, gesturing toward the door. Without hesitation, I stood, took one last look at him, and walked toward the red door—ready to begin my new journey.