chapter 11: System Malfunction

Lin Chen was jolted awake by the mechanical voice of the system.

"Error. Error. Incorrect host selected. System reset in 24 hours."

"What?!" Lin Chen bolted upright, his heart pounding. "What do you mean, incorrect host?"

The system did not respond. Lin's mind raced. What would happen if the system left him? Would he lose everything he had worked for? His store, his power, his chance at revenge—all of it could vanish in less than a day.

He began to pace, his breaths coming in short, panicked bursts. "System, please! I'll do anything. Just don't leave me!" But the system remained silent.

He tried everything to get a response. He offered more crystals, promised to expand his store, even begged for mercy. But nothing worked. With every passing hour, the countdown continued mercilessly.

As the final hour approached, Lin felt desperation sinking in. "Think, think," he muttered to himself, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He decided to go outside, needing fresh air to clear his head.

Outside, the apocalyptic world was as bleak as ever. He wandered aimlessly, lost in his thoughts. Without the system, he was just another survivor in a world gone mad. He had relied on it so heavily, he couldn't imagine life without it.

The countdown was now in its last ten seconds. Lin found himself in the middle of a deserted street, the oppressive silence weighing down on him. He began to count down the final seconds aloud.

"Ten... nine... eight..." His voice shook with each number. "Seven... six... five..." He could barely breathe. "Four... three... two..."

As he reached the final second, he felt a strange sense of calm. "One."

Out of nowhere, the roar of an engine filled the air. Lin looked up just in time to see a massive truck barreling down the street, heading straight for him. In that split second, everything seemed to move in slow motion.

He thought of the irony—of all the ways he imagined dying, being hit by a truck-kun in the apocalypse was not one of them. He closed his eyes, bracing for impact.

When he opened his eyes, he was no longer on the street. The sterile smell of disinfectant filled his nostrils. He was lying in a bed, surrounded by white walls and the soft beeping of a heart monitor. Confusion clouded his mind as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

"Where am I?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

He tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy and weak. He noticed an IV drip attached to his arm and medical equipment monitoring his vitals. He was in a hospital.

The last thing he remembered was the truck. Had he been saved? How was he still alive?

His head ached as he tried to piece together what had happened. He glanced around the room, hoping for answers, but found none. The silence was almost as oppressive as the one on the street before the truck appeared.

As the fog in his mind began to clear, Lin couldn't help but wonder about the system. Had it saved him? Or had it finally abandoned him at the last second? He felt a pang of loss at the thought, but also a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was a second chance—a new beginning.

He lay back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. Whatever had happened, he was alive. And as long as he was alive, he had a chance to fight back, to reclaim his power, and to find out why the system had brought him here.

"One step at a time," he told himself. "I'll figure this out."

But as he closed his eyes, exhaustion taking over, one thought lingered in his mind: What had the system meant by "incorrect host"? And what awaited him now in this new, unfamiliar world?