My Reward

"Is this my reward? The reward for being a good man all my life?" The question echoes in my mind as I breathe gradually despite the sharp pain stabbing through my stomach.

I think as I'm lying on the ground, blood pooling around me from the gaping wound in my abdomen. My consciousness is slipping, and my body refuses to obey me.

It all started years ago. First, the HR department called me to tell me I was fired FIRED! And the reason? They claimed I was sexist. 

Sexist, my ass! All I did was offer to help. What kind of idiot spends months on a task like renaming project files?

When I told her I could write a simple script in half an hour to rename the entire project's files according to the new standard, she ran straight to HR and called me sexist!

Just because I think she wasn't doing her job well? Just because I think it's better to make the work go faster so that others can do their job better? What kind of f*ckery is this!?

But that wasn't even the worst part. Oh no, the real shit came afterward. That day… I returned home early, hoping that seeing my wife and daughter's faces would have helped me after such a shitty day. But what did I find instead?

I found my wife, the woman I loved, cheating on me. And my daughter... the daughter I've loved and cherished with all my heart... turns out not to be mine. She's the child of my wife's ex-boyfriend.

I'll never forget it. My wife was my first love in high school. Back then, when I found out she was in a relationship with her ex, I stepped aside like a man, wishing her the best. After all, that man was rich, and I thought he'd take good care of her and be able to provide her what I couldn't.

Years later, when that man tossed her out like garbage, she came crawling back to me. And I forgave her. I forgave her because I still loved her. In the early days of our marriage, things were good. She was kind, supportive, and loving.

We even had a daughter... or so I thought. I never questioned why my daughter didn't resemble me. I assumed she must have inherited traits from her grandparents, whom I'd never met. Oh… what a fool I was.

Today, I heard the truth with my own ears. She said it! She said it while moaning! Right in front of the bastard who tossed her aside like garbage years ago. While they were f*cking on my bed, she called me a fool, A simp! and maybe she's right. Maybe I was a fool. It's fine. If I was a simp, all I ever wanted was her sincere love… for me.

Maybe I was a fool for forgiving her and letting her back into my life after she ran off with that rich, second-generation bastard. I gave her a second chance, and this… this is how she repaid me?

Betrayal...

I ran out of the house, trying to sort through my sh*t. I decided to sleep at a hotel that night. I couldn't face that lying b*tch again, not then.

And that's what led me to the current situation.

I saw a girl being robbed, and I tried to help her… What was my reward?

A knife in the gut. The girl didn't even thank me. She just grabbed her bag from my hands and left. She didn't even call an ambulance.

Heh! Women… I bet that girl has gone home and posted on Twitter, calling me sexist for helping her. She's probably one of those feminist types: "I can do everything a man can do!" Heh... If I could rewind time, I'd just let her be...

And to think, I once dismissed those rumors on the internet about men getting fired or sued for helping women with their jobs or opening doors for them. Turns out... those stories might have had some truth. It's too late for regrets now…

In all my life… nothing good ever came my way. I tried to be a good man, a good father, and a good husband. I did my best to become someone who could proudly call himself upright and righteous.

I helped people… so many people… in my youth and during my free time as a disaster relief volunteer.

I wasn't a hero or someone with glorious achievements, but I gave it my all.

I wanted to be a man my daughter could proudly call a hero. That… that's all I ever wanted.

Heh… what a fool. Even my daughter isn't my own… such a pathetic fool.

If heaven or hell is real, I'd like to stand before whoever's in charge and demand answers. I'd ask why my life turned to shit.

Maybe I wasn't good enough for this world… or maybe this world just takes advantage of good men. Either way, to hell with being a good man! To hell with being a hero!

If I ever get another chance, I'll live for myself. For my own satisfaction. No more sacrifices for anyone else.

Doing good… never did me any favors… anyway…

— ??? —

As darkness enveloped my consciousness, a sudden sense of weightlessness overtook me. In the vast emptiness, glowing text appeared before my eyes.

"Welcome… Maximilian Sterling Graham."

"Survive… and you'll gain power beyond your imagination."

"Die… and you'll become nothing."

"Survive."

What? What the f*ck is this? What kind of insane bullshitting hell is this?

I barely had time to think before the weightlessness disappeared. My surroundings shifted, and the endless void was replaced by a desolate, barren space. My feet stood on cracked, broken ground, like cracked glass.

Out of nowhere, a sharp pain seared through my neck. Something had sliced into me. My mind scrambled to make sense of what just happened, but the only thing I managed to register was the flash of a blade before my strength abandoned me. I crumpled to the ground.

"What… what kind of f*cking sh*t is this?" I muttered, blood gushing from my throat as a heavy boot pressed down on my head.

"This should be the last one," a voice sneered above me. "I must say, none of these maggots put up much of a fight. Not even the ones with military backgrounds."

That voice. It had to belong to the bastard stepping on my head. The one who killed me! Rage burned through my fading consciousness. F*ck! I wanted to… I wanted to kill him!

"Huh? You're not dead yet?" A voice spoke before a sharp, searing pain tore through my head like someone driving a hot iron into my brain. "Just die already."

The excruciating pain was the last thing I registered before my consciousness slipped away. But… moments later, I found myself staring once again at the cracked, desolate ground. This time, though… I saw the bastard who tried to kill me.

A rugged man with a beard. His weathered face bore the scars and wrinkles of time. This bastard was definitely some killer... or maybe a mercenary.

Why is he here? Where is this place? Why am I here? Questions about my reality raced through my mind. This place… it was strange. The sky was dark, void of a moon or stars, yet there was light.

I could clearly see him, his face, his knife.... military knife. But everything was a blur beyond the ten meters around me like the world just stopped existing beyond that point.

"So, you're one of those types with strong willpower, huh?" the rugged man muttered. Before I could react, he lunged, and the blade in his hand sliced clean through my neck.

The sharp pain and the suffocating struggle to breathe overwhelmed me. I… I can't breathe… Am I… am I dying again!?

No! No! NOOOO!!! I won't die! I won't! Not until I kill that bastard!!

Before I knew it, my body moved on instinct. My arms lunged forward, wrapping around the rugged man in a desperate, bear-like grip.

"What the hell are you doing!? I don't swing that way!" the man sneered, plunging his knife into my side. The sharp pain struck again, even worse this time—the blade must've pierced my lung. Breathing became almost impossible; my vision swam, but I refused to let go.

I opened my mouth wide and, before I realized what I was doing, sank my teeth into his throat. Hard. As hard as I could. I felt his blood flood my mouth and drip down my throat—his blood, the blood of this bastard who tried to kill me.

"Arrghh!!" The rugged man stiffened, struggling to push me away. He was stronger than me, no doubt about it. But somehow, my arms locked onto him like iron clamps, refusing to let go. It was like this body wasn't mine. It was as if it didn't belong to the office drone I used to be. Yet, I managed to hold him down, barely overpowering him.

"Let me… go!" he snarled, stabbing me again and again. I could feel my body growing weaker, my strength fading. But my jaws wouldn't release him. I bit down harder, trying to tear out his throat, even as a sharp, unbearable pain pierced through my brain, like a hot knife splitting it in two. My body started to fail me, my control slipping…