
A light drizzle fell on the hot asphalt of East Jakarta that night, but it wasn't enough to cool Amar's head, which felt like it was about to explode. He stood by the edge of the highway, his calloused hands clutching a crumpled termination letter soaked by the rain.
"Goddammit," Amar cursed under his breath, his voice raspy from the warehouse dust still coating his throat. "Two years of work, one misplaced pallet, and they kick me to the curb. The world really has no brain." The wallet in his back pocket felt incredibly light, as light as his hopes for breakfast tomorrow. It held only a single crumpled five-thousand rupiah bill and an ATM receipt with a balance that made him want to weep blood. At just twenty-one, Amar felt like he was finished. He'd dropped out of college because of the cost, and now even being a manual laborer was a failure. "Hey, watch where you're going, idiot!" shouted a motorcyclist who nearly clipped his shoulder. Amar just watched the bike pull away with a hollow stare. "Whatever, just hit me next time. At least there's insurance, might be worth something for Ma back home if I kick the bucket." He began to stagger forward, passing a coffee stall whose aroma only made his stomach cramp painfully. His thoughts started to wander. Should he rob someone? Become some sugar mama's plaything? But with his mediocre looks, well, maybe 'okay' if he showered and wore expensive cologne, he probably wouldn't sell well on the black market of self-respect. "Lord ... if today really is my end, please make it quick," Amar muttered, staring at the pitch-black, starless sky. "I'm tired of being honest but always broke." Suddenly, his ears caught a strange engine roar. It wasn't a normal truck. The sound was more like ... an intense electrical hum, like thousands of transformers exploding at once. A blinding blue light appeared from the sharp turn ahead. It was a massive container truck, but its body was shrouded in an impossible blue neon aura. The truck sped along, not braking at all, even though Amar was clearly standing in the middle of the crosswalk. "Holy shit, what is that?!" Amar’s eyes widened. His instinct told him to run, but his legs were frozen. It was like a giant magnet was pulling him to stay put. Instead of slowing down, the truck accelerated. The light began to sear Amar’s pupils until he couldn't see anything but electric blue. CRASHHHH! The first sensation Amar felt was cold. Freezing, as if all the blood in his body had suddenly turned to ice in a single second. Then the pain hit. The snapping of his ribs felt like tree branches being roughly broken. He drifted, the world spun, and then everything went pitch black. But strangely, he could still hear something. "Trash. Such a weak soul." A man's voice, heavy and authoritative but incredibly arrogant, echoed in the void where Amar now resided. "Am I dead?" Amar asked. His voice didn't come out, but his thoughts spoke. "Well, fine. But why the hell won't the pain go away, you bastard?" "You curse in my presence, Lowly Human?" A figure began to take shape in the darkness. A giant shadow with glowing red eyes and armor that seemed to be made of shards of dead stars. The figure hovered over Amar, who lay helpless, his body shattered. "My name is Astraeus," the figure spoke again. "Ruler of the Western Skies whom you, creatures of Earth, have forgotten. I am in need of a vessel, and unfortunately, the frequency of your despair just now pulled my essence to these coordinates." "I don't need your name," Amar shot back in his mind, trying to endure the searing ache in his soul. "I just want to die in peace. Don't mess up my reincarnation into a rich family, please." Astraeus snorted cynically. "Reincarnation? With a karmic burden of poverty like yours, at best you'll become a cockroach in a slum apartment. Listen, Kid. I am dying, and you are already dead. But if we unite, I can give you the chance to make everyone who looked down on you feel hell on earth." Amar fell silent. His chest grew tighter. It felt like his lungs were being pulled out. "The ... what's the price?" "Your price was cheap from the start, why ask for the cost?" Astraeus mocked. "Just give me access to your emotions. Your negative energy is the best fuel for what remains of my power. So, do you want a contract, or do you really want to be a cockroach?" Amar saw flashes of his mother's face back home, then the face of the warehouse boss who had spat on his termination letter. Amar let out a small laugh, though every vibration of it felt like being stabbed by thousands of needles. "Do it, Boss. Better than dying like a loser getting hit by some alien truck," Amar thought firmly. "A wise choice, despite your insolence." Astraeus dove down instantly. The blue energy from the truck began to envelop Amar’s soul. But this time, it wasn't cold. It was hot, burning, as if molten metal were being injected directly into his bone marrow. "ARGHHHHHHHH!" Amar screamed in his subconscious. The pain was ten times worse than the initial impact. He could feel every cell of his body being forced back together. Crushed bones were pulled into place, shattered organs rewoven with threads of cosmic energy. In the real world, on that wet street, Amar's body, which should have been mush, instead emitted a massive explosion of blue light. The mysterious container truck that hit him, which was clearly no ordinary human vehicle, shattered into pieces as if it had just struck a ten-meter-thick steel wall. "Contract complete. Welcome to the new chapter of your wretched life, Partner," Astraeus whispered before his voice faded into the deepest recesses of Amar's mind. The street fell silent. Shards of the truck’s metal were scattered everywhere, small flames licking the remains of burnt tires. White smoke billowed from the center of a small crater in the middle of the asphalt. Amar jolted, his eyelids flying open. The first thing he saw wasn't heaven, but the Jakarta night sky, growing even darker. He felt his lungs full of oxygen, his heart pounding hard like he’d just run a marathon, but strangely ... he felt no pain at all. "Hah ... hah ... I'm alive?" Amar tried to move his hands. His skin felt smooth, no signs of burns or blood, even though his t-shirt was shredded. He stood up, brushing dust off his pants, which were also torn at the knees. Around him, a few passersby stood frozen, phones pointed at him. Their faces looked like they'd just seen a ghost. "That guy ... is he still alive?" "Crazy, the truck is in pieces, and he's just got a few scratches?" "Is this magic or what? Call an ambulance, hey!" Amar ignored the whispers. His vision suddenly focused on something unreal. In front of his eyes, about fifty centimeters from his nose, was a transparent holographic window glowing silvery. [ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ] [ Vessel Initiation Process Complete. Astraeus & Amar Soul Synchronization : 1%. ] Amar blinked. "Huh? What’s this? Real-life Mobile Legends?" "Quiet, fool," Astraeus's voice echoed in his head again, making Amar a bit dizzy. "That is the interface to guide you. Without it, you would explode because you cannot control my cosmic energy." "I don't want to be a bomb, dammit!" Amar cursed quietly, making the people around him take a step back, thinking he was going crazy. Suddenly, the text on the screen changed. It turned blood red, followed by a loud, ringing warning sound in his ears. [ EMERGENCY WARNING : HOST BODY IN CRITICAL CONDITION (HUNGRY AND NEAR FAINTING) ] [ MAIN QUEST : 'JUSTICE MUST BE REPAID' HAS BEEN ACTIVATED. ] [ STATUS : Cosmic Retribution System Activated. ] "What the hell? I just came back from the dead and I'm already being assigned tasks?!" Amar shouted in frustration at the hologram. "Shh, easy there, kid," an older delivery driver approached him hesitantly. "Are you okay, son? Should we call the police? That truck driver seems to have vanished or ... well, the truck is completely totaled, sir." Amar glanced at the man, then looked back at the screen. He felt a new power surging through his right hand, a sort of hot, tingling sensation. At the end of the alley, he spotted a luxury black car, not just any car, a Mercedes S-Class, speeding away hurriedly from the scene of the accident. "That ... wasn't a normal accident, was it?" Amar asked himself. "Of course not," Astraeus replied. "Someone wanted you dead before you even knew who I truly am. And now, those lowly instincts of yours must be starting to feel the 'vibration’, right?" Amar clenched his fists. The agonizing hunger he felt earlier was suddenly drowned out by a rush of adrenaline. In his mind, he could practically smell the scent of conspiracy and the odor of gunpowder. He had just 'died' once, and it wasn't a pleasant experience at all. Amar stared at the cracked asphalt beneath his feet, then at the crowd of people beginning to close in with their annoying phone cameras. "Hah ... alright then," Amar smirked slightly, wiping away a bit of blood trickling from his nostril. "The world has been cruel to me for twenty-one years. It only seems fair that I start being even crueler in return." The holographic screen flickered one last time before disappearing into his pupils. [ FIRST LOGIN SUCCESSFUL. ] [ First Target Identified : Northern Sector Vessel Organization. ] [ Recommendation : Run Now Before the Ambulance Takes You to a Mental Hospital. ] "Run?" Amar gave a lopsided smile toward the phone camera of a teenager who was currently livestreaming. "I’m not running. I’m just getting started." However, just as he was about to take a cool, action-movie-protagonist step forward, his legs suddenly went weak. "Wait ... my stomach really hurts," he groaned softly, clutching his belly, which was growling so loudly that the people standing next to him could hear it. Astraeus snorted in amusement. "Go to sleep for a bit, you pathetic Host. Your stage won't be set until tomorrow." Amar's vision began to blur. The last thing he heard before completely collapsing was the increasingly loud wail of an ambulance siren, and the scent of expensive perfume from a woman who suddenly appeared in the middle of the crowd, parting the spectators with an aura colder than death itself. Amar fell forward, tumbling into an embrace of uncertainty far crazier than simply being a fired warehouse porter. [ Synchronization Halted. Status : Aesthetic Fainting. ] "Dammit ...." Amar whispered one last time before darkness claimed him for the second time that same night.Latest Chapter
Chapter 6 Broken Television, Lost Vanguards, and the Water Sprinkler Tragedy
While waiting for his three portions of special fried rice to arrive, Amar spent fifteen minutes doing nothing but standing in front of the mirror, alternating between flexing his biceps and his abs.For a former laborer who usually had nothing but skin stretched over bone, possessing the body of a top-tier bodybuilder in an instant was the eighth wonder of the world. He shadowboxed the air, posed like Bruce Lee, and then spun around mimicking a perfume commercial model.Astraeus, the former God of War who once commanded millions of gallant warriors, felt spiritually nauseated deep inside."Stop this embarrassing ritual, boy! If the gods of the Pantheon saw my Vessel acting as narcissistic as a monkey in heat in front of a mirror, my pride would crumble instantly!""You're just jealous, man. That’s why you should get your own body once you’re rich," Amar replied casually, rubbing his chin, which now boasted a much sharper jawline. "I’m just imagining signing up for dating apps tomorro
Chapter 5 The Killer's Wallet, Emotional Damage, and Instant Cosmic Muscle
That dirty, stuffy alley was left with a symphony of incredibly absurd suffering.Two elite hitmen from the Cult of the God of Deception, who usually took lives silently, were now sprawled out miserably. One moaned in a high-pitched voice while clutching his ruined future assets over a puddle of spoiled rendang oil. The other was lightly spasming, having nearly strangled himself with his own signature cloak.Amar stood frozen for a few seconds. He looked left and right, making sure no local CCTV was recording this nonsensical scene.As a former laborer and college dropout who'd been scammed plenty, Amar's first instinct upon seeing thugs go down wasn't to call the police, but to ... survive."Sorry, pal. Better I use this for my business capital than having the state seize it," Amar muttered as he crouched down.His thin hands deftly slid into the tactical pockets of the two killers. The first treasure was found: two thick leather wallets full of hundred-thousand bills that totaled fi
Chapter 4 North Coast Criminals, Cosplay Fails, and the Art of Trash Talk
The bowl of noodles in front of Amar was licked clean down to the last drop of soup. For a stomach accustomed to being ravaged by instant noodles mixed with cold rice from a rickety rice cooker, today's meal felt like a Michelin-starred feast."Keep the change, man. Thanks, these noodles were the best!" Amar said firmly. He laid down a fifty-thousand rupiah bill, the remainder of the first hundred-thousand he’d broken from his envelope, and strolled away.The shopkeeper’s jaw dropped. "Are you serious? A double order with egg and corned beef is fifteen thousand tops, hey, buddy, may you be blessed with much fortune!" the man shouted happily.Inside Amar’s head, the old god cleared his throat in annoyance. "Wasting the remnants of your offerings on a casteless servant? That money in your bag could have been used to hire an alchemist! Ah, forget it, talking to you about nobility is harder than teaching a goblin etiquette!"Alchemists these days sell synthetic kidneys through apps, Broth
Chapter 3 Stupid Scenarios, Instant Noodles, and the First Gacha
The scent of jasmine and musk from Erisia’s body was so close that Amar could count the individual strands of the woman’s long, curled eyelashes. Amar’s heart pounded like a drag racer’s piston. As a poor guy whose only entertainment was Netflix using his ex’s password, being within a four-inch radius of this dark-aura’d, sexy goddess was a true mental gauntlet.Erisia’s cat-like eyes stared straight into Amar’s pupils, searching for a lie, or more accurately ... searching for the trace of a god. At the same time, a slow heat crawled out from her gaze, a sort of magical allure that would usually make any man’s knees go weak in a plea for mercy.However, instead of kneeling or babbling with passion as Erisia expected, Amar’s response completely ruined the mood."A-chooo!"Amar sneezed loudly, spraying a gust of air right in front of Erisia’s elegant face.Silence filled the VVIP room. Erisia froze, her eyelid twitching slightly."Oh, jeez, sorry, Ma’am!" Amar stammered, hurriedly rubbi
Chapter 2 Luxury, Insults, and Hot Water
For a warehouse laborer, waking up to the soft scent of lavender was a bad sign.Amar's instincts immediately screamed : I've definitely been kidnapped by an organ-harvesting syndicate.He opened his eyes slowly. Instead of the dusty ceiling of his rented room, Amar saw a chandelier, a crystal hanging lamp whose price could probably pay off his entire village's debt to the moneylenders. His body was lying on a massive bed with silk sheets. There was no IV drip in his arm, but the pain and exhaustion from the supernatural truck impact yesterday had vanished without a trace.Amar reflexively felt for his left kidney. It was safe. No stitches."Thank God ... my kidneys are intact. Wait, where am I? Heaven? Does a poor guy like me get a room like this in heaven?" he muttered quietly."This isn't heaven, you foolish Host."Astraeus's voice echoed in his head again, heavy, arrogant, and incredibly annoying. "And stop offering thanks to any gods. I am the only divine existence in your head."
Chapter 1 Delayed Demise
A light drizzle fell on the hot asphalt of East Jakarta that night, but it wasn't enough to cool Amar's head, which felt like it was about to explode. He stood by the edge of the highway, his calloused hands clutching a crumpled termination letter soaked by the rain."Goddammit," Amar cursed under his breath, his voice raspy from the warehouse dust still coating his throat. "Two years of work, one misplaced pallet, and they kick me to the curb. The world really has no brain."The wallet in his back pocket felt incredibly light, as light as his hopes for breakfast tomorrow. It held only a single crumpled five-thousand rupiah bill and an ATM receipt with a balance that made him want to weep blood. At just twenty-one, Amar felt like he was finished. He'd dropped out of college because of the cost, and now even being a manual laborer was a failure."Hey, watch where you're going, idiot!" shouted a motorcyclist who nearly clipped his shoulder.Amar just watched the bike pull away with a ho
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