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Blink.

Blink.

A weightless sensation enveloped Honu as his vision flickered back to life. The vast emptiness around him was silent, an endless abyss stretching in all directions. He felt... strange. Lighter than air. He tried to push himself upright, but his body didn't respond the way it should have.

"Where...?" His voice came out in a hushed rasp as he attempted to move. Then, realization struck. His body wasn't touching anything—he was floating. Suspended in the void like a discarded feather.

"W-whoa!" He flailed instinctively, but there was nothing to grasp, no ground beneath him, just the sensation of drifting. Then it clicked. "Yep. I'm dead. Those fuckers," he muttered under his breath, his expression shifting between disbelief and irritation.

A sudden ding echoed through the abyss.

[ Welcome to Saint's Codex!!! ]

A glowing screen flickered into existence above him, illuminating the void with an ethereal blue light. It pulsed slightly, as if waiting for his response.

Honu blinked up at it. He reached out, fingers stretching toward the glowing text, but they passed right through it. He gave a slow nod. "Alright. I see how it is. Holographic nonsense."

Resigned, he let himself float and lay back comfortably, arms folded behind his head. "I get it now. You're some kind of system, and I'm the chosen one, right? Let's get on with it." Confidence radiated from his voice, as if he had already accepted his new role.

The system didn't respond immediately.

[ Every story has a real world created. But what happens to unfinished stories? Dropped... incomplete... abandoned... forgotten... its author passing away... sigh. The world created for it remains stagnant. It moves in circles, never truly meeting its end—]

"So when do I start?" Honu interrupted, brows raised impatiently.

[ .... ]

"Okay, continue." He sighed, waving a hand dismissively.

[ Transmigrators will be referred to as Saints. Your existence is the catalyst to move the story. Your role is to be a side character, ensuring the story meets its conclusion. There are no extra lives given by the system to the Saints. Your death on the mission will not allow you to go back. Instead, you will perish. Your soul will never reincarnate and you will cease to exist. ]

Honu stared blankly at the screen. "There's no win-win in this." He grumbled, rubbing his temple.

[ Are you ready? ]

"YEAHHH!" Honu shouted without hesitation, throwing his arms wide, despite the creeping dread pooling in his stomach. His enthusiasm was more out of habit than actual confidence.

What an idiot.

"So, do I receive any power-ups? Starters, perhaps? A little boost?" he asked, hopeful.

[ None. ]

Honu choked on his own spit. "Okay. I take it back. How do I leave this nonsense?"

[ ...You can't leave. ]

His eye twitched. "First, I get killed. Now, I'm forced into a suicidal mission. I am so loved." He wrapped his arms around himself in mock self-pity, faking soft sobs.

[ I have a shop. Earn Codex Points and buy. ]

"Now, I can't help but feel scammed." He sniffled exaggeratedly.

[ It has advantages, though. ]

"How do I earn points, though?" he asked skeptically, crossing his arms.

[ By completing tasks, hidden missions, and achievements. I'll give you notifications. You can even unlock skills and upgrade stats. ]

Honu squinted. "Aight, bro. Thanks."

[ No prob. Here's your character profile: ]

Name: Honu

Role: Monk

Character Summary: A monk from the western regions. He tried to be a wanderer and ended up as a servant of the great Von Sumidra estate in the Athanasios nation to earn money. His dream is to be a musician. He has a terrible voice.

Honu slowly clapped his hands, his expression blank. "Wow." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "What a useless character."

[ You really are unlucky. ]

"Thank you for the kind words." This time, he actually teared up, shoulders shaking slightly.

[ Bro? ]

"Yep... yeah, I'm fine." He sniffed, waving off the screen. "Just throw me into whatever world I'm in."

[ Sheesh. You'll be in the world of 'Crimson Sacrifice'. ]

Honu frowned. "Shit. Even the title sounds unlucky."

Before he could protest further, the void suddenly collapsed around him. His body lurched forward, sucked into the abyss at a terrifying speed.

"WAIT, WAIT, WAIT—!"

And then—

BAM!

Honu's consciousness slammed back into reality with a violent gasp, his body heaving as he sucked in a sharp breath. The first thing he felt was the cold, the weight of rushing water pounding against his back, soaking through the fabric of his robes. His vision was a blur, droplets clinging to his lashes as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

"Ahck!" he coughed, sputtering as he realized he was sitting on a jagged rock beneath a cascading waterfall. His hands instinctively roamed his body—his chest, his arms, his legs—confirming that he was indeed solid, warm. Alive. A disbelieving laugh bubbled up from his throat, relief washing over him in waves.

"I'm alive!" His voice echoed against the walls of the rocky enclave. He patted his torso, feeling the familiar heat of his skin, the steady thrum of his pulse beneath his fingertips. He threw his head back and let out a triumphant, almost manic laugh. "Ha! Hahahaha!"

But the moment his palm grazed the top of his head, his expression froze.

Something was missing.

A terrible realization dawned upon him as he slowly, tremblingly, ran his hands over his scalp.

Bald.

"I-I'm bald?" The words left his lips in a horrified whisper before panic took hold. "I'M BALD?!" His shriek tore through the serene landscape, sending birds scattering from the nearby trees.

A calm, steady voice broke through his hysteria. "Honu."

The sound made him whip his head around. His gaze landed on an old man sitting cross-legged beneath the same waterfall, his wrinkled form barely moving as the water pelted down onto his broad, timeworn shoulders.

Honu's eyes trailed lower—

And immediately widened in pure, unfiltered terror.

"WAHHHHHH!!!" He howled, scrambling backward so fast that he nearly slipped off the rock. "YOU'RE NAKED!"

His hands flew up to shield his vision, but the image was already burned into his mind. The old man was completely unclothed, his wrinkled...everything...floating slightly in the water below him. Honu gagged, shaking his head violently as if the motion alone could erase what he had just witnessed.

The elder remained unfazed, his expression serene, as if Honu's distress was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. "Seclusion meditation for a month," he stated calmly.

Honu blinked, panting as he tried to regain control of his racing heart. His head jerked from side to side, taking in his surroundings with fresh urgency. The air was thick with mist, the scent of damp stone and moss filling his nostrils. There was no temple, no town—only this waterfall, this secluded grove, and… this naked old man.

His breathing evened out slightly as he pressed a shaking hand to his forehead. His robe was soaked, clinging uncomfortably to his frame. Given the elder's attire—or lack thereof—and the fact that he himself was also bald, a single conclusion formed in his mind.

"Hooooo," he exhaled heavily, composing himself. "Okay, okay... Think, Honu. Think." Slowly, he turned to face the old monk, making a conscious effort to keep his eyes locked on the man's face. "Forgive me, Master. I was... fighting off evil spirits in my mind." His voice was measured now, smooth with a forced calm, and he even bowed for good measure.

The monk regarded him for a long moment before finally sighing. "Honu."

That single utterance sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

"That's not how it works." The old man gave a tired smile. "Begin your training. Now."

"M-Master! Wait! How? H-how do I train?" Honu's voice cracked with desperation. He knew nothing about martial arts, nothing about sect training, nothing about how to survive whatever hellish reality he had just been thrown into.

The monk merely closed his eyes again. "Honu."

Honu flinched. "...Yes?"

"Go. And start."

"Okay, okay!" Honu laughed nervously, sweat beading at his brow despite the cool water cascading around them. "Um... Where is the temple again?"

The old monk's eyes slid open, regarding him with something akin to pity. Then, without a word, he raised a single, weathered hand and pointed upward.

Honu followed the direction of his finger.

And promptly felt his soul leave his body.

The mountain above them stretched impossibly high, layers upon layers of cliffs and jagged terrain forming a near-vertical climb. At the very top, if he squinted hard enough, he could just barely make out a minuscule structure—a temple so far away it looked no bigger than a grain of rice.

His jaw fell open. His hands trembled as they clutched at his smooth, freshly shaven scalp.

"T-That? That one?" His voice came out hoarse, barely more than a strangled whisper.

The monk smiled serenely and nodded.

Honu staggered, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. A strangled groan ripped from his throat before it erupted into a full-blown scream. "GRAAAAHHHH!!!" His voice cracked as he threw his head back in anguish. "WHY AM I SO UNLUCKYYYY?!"

"Honu."

His eye twitched.

"Honu."

A vein pulsed in his temple.

"Two months of training."

Honu's vision blurred at the edges as his blood pressure skyrocketed. A moment later, everything went dark.

The last thing he felt was the cold slap of water hitting his back as he collapsed into the river, unconscious.