"Mgh..."
With a soft, pained groan, a young girl slumped over a desk slowly sat up. Furrowing her brow, she rubbed her temples, opened her eyes, and looked around in confusion.
On the worn, slightly cracked, yet spotlessly clean wooden desk lay a book. Filled with neat, elegant handwriting, it looked like a notebook.
A beam of morning sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the desk. The time seemed to be early morning. A dull ache in her muscles suggested she had fallen asleep while reading and writing, remaining slumped over the desk all night.
"But... this isn't right, is it?"
Her voice, slightly raspy from a dry throat, rasped as she held her head and muttered to herself, "How do I remember... getting run over by a truck?"
She hadn't been trying to save a little girl in the middle of the street. She had simply been looking at her phone while walking, accidentally stepped onto the road, and was promptly taken out by a passing truck.
The last image in her memory was a massive truck hurtling toward her. Walking while looking at your phone really was a terrible habit.
After briefly sorting through her memories, she turned her attention back to her surroundings. There was no doubt about it—this place was definitely not a hospital or her own home. Besides, she felt like she had been completely crushed by that truck; the chances of her surviving were practically zero. Which meant... she had transmigrated?
Transmigration wasn't a foreign concept to a modern person who frequently read web novels. A new world, a new identity, a fresh start... and it wasn't as if she recalled having any family in her past life anyway.
She looked down at her hands, which were smooth, delicate, and slender. This body was undoubtedly a girl's, and a young one at that. But the problem was, she realized she couldn't remember her name from her past life—she couldn't even remember if she had been a man or a woman.
Just then, a sharp, sudden pain shot through her head. She clutched her head with both hands, curling up in her chair as soft whimpers escaped her lips. Only after a long moment did the pain finally begin to subside. Then, fragments of memory belonging to "Freya Russell"—the original owner of this body—flooded her mind.
The current date was July 20th, Year 1151 of the New Calendar. The girl, whom she should now call Freya, was only seventeen years old and a top-performing student at the 【Cobdo National Academy】.
The original Freya was an orphan with no living relatives, surviving entirely on her part-time jobs and the academy's scholarship for honor students. Consequently, she lived under immense pressure. Every day, after finishing her part-time work, she would return to her rented room and stay up late studying to maintain her grades.
Exhausted both physically and mentally, and suffering from malnutrition due to a poor diet, she had suddenly lost consciousness while studying last night. When she woke up, she was now the transmigrated soul.
She had undoubtedly died from overwork. Freya sighed. In any case, she had already transmigrated. Faced with this reality, she could only do her best to survive in the original owner's stead.
To be honest, though she had inherited the original owner's memories, inheritance did not equal mastery. The original Freya's grades were exceptional, consistently ranking in the top three of her year at the 【Cobdo National Academy】. The current her, however, would highly likely fail to maintain that standard.
It was like taking an exam. The original owner could easily get a perfect score, but for her, even if she could access those memories like an open-book test, getting a perfect score would still be quite difficult.
"Machine dynamics, chemical formulas, a brief history of the nation... What on earth is all this?" Freya sighed again. She seemed to have graduated quite some time ago in her past life, and her school knowledge had long since faded. Moreover, what they taught in this world's schools was entirely different from her past life.
Wait, she suddenly realized something very strange. Even though she couldn't even remember her own name from her past life, her grasp of general knowledge and common sense from that world was incredibly vivid. She had initially thought the truck had just knocked her silly and caused amnesia, but now it seemed that might not be the case.
Just as Freya was pondering this, a soft chime rang in her mind, and a translucent virtual panel materialized before her eyes.
'Ding~'
'Future Simulation System loaded successfully'
"I knew it. How could a transmigrator not have a system?" Freya's attention was instantly drawn to the screen as she began to study the panel before her:
【Current Save Slots: 00 (Freya Russell), 01 (None)】
【Start Future Simulation】
【Time remaining until next death crisis: Three days】
Freya: "?"
To be honest, her first reaction upon discovering she had a system was to look for some kind of starter pack or a way to get some money.
According to the original owner's memories, she only had less than three thousand "Ducats" left. This was the currency of this world, and its purchasing power was roughly equivalent to the RMB of her past life. Between tuition, rent, and food expenses, it was no exaggeration to say that three thousand Ducats wouldn't even last her a month. Thus, her most urgent priority was to get some cash.
However, her system didn't seem to have any such features. There was no interactive system guide, nor any starter packs. The interface was shockingly minimalist, especially the prompt at the very bottom: "Time remaining until next death crisis: Three days."
If this warning was real, then she probably didn't need to worry about not having living expenses a month from now. After all, she would be dead in three days anyway.
Anyone else would probably feel terrified, anxious, or tense upon learning they only had three days to live. Yet Freya felt none of that. Instead, she found herself remarkably calm. Perhaps it was because she had already died once just moments ago?
After studying the system for a while, she got a general idea of what it could do.
The so-called "Future Simulation" was the core function of this system. Once activated, she would enter a special simulated state where she could live her life normally and do whatever she wanted for up to thirty days.
If the time limit was reached, if she died during the simulation, or if she chose to exit voluntarily, the simulation would end. Afterward, she could save the simulated version of herself into a "Save Slot." In reality, whenever necessary, she could summon that saved version of herself as a clone.
Honestly, the ability seemed impressive on paper, but practically useless. What was she supposed to do? Work out intensely for a month, save her progress, and then summon a slightly stronger clone of herself?
No, there was another way to use it: predicting the future to find out what exactly that "death crisis" was, and then avoiding it.
As she pondered, Freya focused her thoughts on the words "Start Future Simulation." Immediately, another prompt popped up:
【Please select a Save Slot】
Just like choosing a character in an RPG, slots "00" and "01" appeared before her. However, she had no real choice right now, as "01" was empty.
When Freya looked at "00," a 3D avatar with shoulder-length, light brown hair appeared. The avatar wore a black hoodie and grey trousers that showed signs of patching, with the hems slightly faded from washing.
"Is this me?" Freya muttered. This was the first time she had properly looked at her own appearance since transmigrating. No matter how ordinary her clothes were, they couldn't hide the girl's natural beauty.
Her amber eyes were clear and bright, like a calm, wave-less sea. She had a small, delicate nose, and her cherry-pink lips looked soft and tender—so adorable that the real Freya couldn't help but purse her own lips.
Her features were delicate and soft, giving off the impression of someone with a gentle temperament who wouldn't fight back if bullied, and would probably cry for a long time if punched.
Perhaps because she had just woken up, her hair was a bit messy with bedhead, but this didn't make her look disheveled. Instead, it added a touch of laziness, making her look even cuter.
However, looking further down, aside from her delicate and cute facial features, her figure was rather average. Her chest was somewhat "flat and unremarkable"—at least, on the system's 3D avatar, there was barely any curve to speak of.
In reality, Freya reached up and pressed her hands against her chest. Well, there was actually something there, at least a B-cup. Maybe her clothes were just too baggy?
No, she shook her head vigorously. Was this really the time to be focusing on such details?
On the system screen, Freya selected the only available save slot, "00." In the next second, it felt as though someone had grabbed her head and dunked her underwater. By the time she snapped out of it, only a single line of small text remained in front of her:
【Simulation in progress...】
Freya took a deep breath, then looked around. "It's started already?"
Her sight, hearing, smell, and the surrounding scenery were completely unchanged. If not for that strange feeling of being submerged just now, she would have doubted whether she had actually entered a simulation.
With a thought, another prompt appeared before her eyes:
【Exit simulation?】
She naturally chose "No." So, knowing that everything in front of her was "fake" and simulated, and that nothing she did would affect reality, combined with the impending death crisis in three days—what should she do first?
Arm herself, of course! Buy weapons!
At this point, the state of this world had to be mentioned. According to the original owner's memories, the technological level of this world was roughly equivalent to the era around the first Industrial Revolution of her past life. Just a few days ago, she had heard a classmate mention that a steam train had made its maiden run somewhere.
As for weapons, there were already pistols, rifles, machine guns, and even artillery. These weapons were roughly at the level of World War I in her previous world. If she could get her hands on one, her chances of surviving whatever was coming in three days would increase significantly.
But the problem was, where could an underage girl like her get a firearm?
Freya pondered for a moment, and a location actually came to mind. The country she currently resided in was called the 【Kingdom of Tarapaca】, which was considered a relatively powerful nation in this world.
However, the backdrop of the Industrial Revolution meant this country was bound to be unstable. Gangs, the unemployed, vagrants, and ruined souls were everywhere. The original Freya's standard of living was already miserable, but she was far from the worst off in this nation.
Consequently, public safety was quite poor. While it was relatively safe during the day, going out at night with her appearance and physical build would be extremely dangerous.
Thus, gun control was virtually impossible under these conditions. Fortunately, the original owner happened to know that there was a black market in a rather remote part of the city. Rumor had it they sold everything there, so she might be able to try her luck.
As for how the original owner knew about this, it had also been mentioned during casual chats with her classmates. It was treated like an urban legend, which was a pretty normal topic for girls to gossip about.
Now that she had a location, the next issue was funding. All of Freya's savings added up to only three thousand Ducats, which was definitely not enough. So, how could she get money quickly?
Most people's first instinct might be to rob a bank. But as an underage girl, Freya couldn't possibly pull that off. Therefore, the fastest way to get cash was actually to take out a high-interest loan.
She wouldn't have to pay it back anyway. Once the simulation ended, the debt would simply vanish. Wasn't that basically free money?
No sooner said than done. Freya took a sip of water to soothe her dry throat, changed her shoes, and headed out. She didn't even need to look hard. Not long after leaving her building, she spotted two blond punks walking down the street with their arms around each other's shoulders.
Due to her financial situation, the original owner naturally couldn't afford to live in a nice neighborhood. Remote, run-down areas were bound to have plenty of "punks" like these. These two guys were lackeys of a local gang boss.
However, these guys didn't collect protection money. Their main business was money lending. The original Freya had been approached several times before to see if she wanted a loan, but she had always refused. After all, anyone with a normal IQ knew that was a path of no return, let alone a top student with excellent grades like her.
But now, Freya quietly lowered her head and walked toward the two blond punks of her own accord.
......
Rate on N.U.
