The scream ripped through the darkness like a blade.
"Ahhhhhh—!"
Astha's consciousness surfaced slowly beneath the noise.
A furious male voice thundered nearby.
"How dare you bring me here?! Where is this place?!"
His head throbbed faintly as he opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was a large yellow-haired man gripping another person by the collar and shaking him violently. The victim looked dizzy and terrified, barely able to stand upright.
Around them stood a group of strangers.
Some looked confused. Some looked pale with fear. Three young women had already broken down crying, their sobs echoing weakly through the silent night.
Astha blinked once and slowly sat up.
Cold dirt pressed against his palms.
A strange village stretched before him beneath a dim, lifeless sky. Narrow paths twisted between old crooked houses made of dark wood and cracked stone. Faded lanterns swayed gently outside the buildings, though there was no wind at all.
The entire place felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Too still.
As if the village itself were holding its breath while watching them.
"…Interesting."
The word left Astha's lips softly.
Before tonight, Astha had lived in Koya City.
At twenty-six years old, he was already considered one of the brightest researchers in the academy. Professors praised him endlessly. Colleagues admired him. Students called him a genius behind his back.
He solved problems others could not even understand.
Logic came naturally to him.
Human emotions did not.
There were many things ordinary people seemed to grasp instinctively that Astha found oddly difficult. Fear. Grief. Attachment. Even social interaction often felt more like observation than participation.
But there were also things that frightened most people—
things Astha found deeply fascinating.
Today had been his birthday.
Originally, he had planned to return home after work, eat instant noodles, and sleep.
Unfortunately, his coworkers refused to let him escape so easily.
They dragged him to a restaurant, forced drinks into his hands, and celebrated loudly enough to embarrass half the street.
On the way back home, rain had begun to fall.
Then—
a child ran into the road.
Headlights flashed violently across the darkness.
Someone screamed.
Brakes shrieked.
Astha moved before he could think.
He shoved the child away.
Then came the impact.
Pain exploded through his body like shattered glass.
Someone shouted his name.
And after that—
nothing.
Until now.
Astha lowered his gaze toward his hands.
And froze.
Slender fingers.
Smooth skin.
Small palms.
These were not his hands.
For the first time since waking up, genuine surprise flickered across his face.
Slowly, he turned his hands over. Then he touched his own cheek.
Long black hair slid over his shoulder.
Astha paused.
"…I appear to be a woman."
His voice remained calm.
There was no panic.
Only curiosity.
He looked down at himself.
A loose white T-shirt.
Ripped jeans.
Black sneakers.
This body clearly belonged to someone else.
Not his face.
Not his life.
Not even his gender.
The situation was completely absurd.
Which made it—
interesting.
A broken sob suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
"I want to go home…"
A short-haired girl had collapsed onto the dirt road, trembling violently.
"Mom… Dad…"
The burly yellow-haired man immediately snapped at her.
"Shut up already!"
He grabbed her by the hair roughly, forcing out another cry.
Before anyone could react, a figure moved.
Bang!
A fist slammed directly into the burly man's face.
The impact forced him backward several steps.
"Stop acting like a pig," a cold voice said.
The speaker was a tall man wearing a brown jacket. His expression remained calm, but his eyes were sharp and dangerous.
The burly man touched his bleeding lip in disbelief.
"You hit me?!"
His face twisted with rage.
"Who the hell are you?!"
The man stared at him coldly.
"Someone trying not to die."
The atmosphere instantly changed.
The crying stopped.
Even the terrified whispers faded.
Everyone looked toward him.
The man slowly glanced around the group before speaking again.
"This is a game."
Someone's breathing trembled.
"What…?"
The man's voice remained steady.
"We're already dead."
Silence.
Heavy and suffocating.
The lanterns continued swaying soundlessly in the darkness.
"If we fail…"
The man turned his eyes toward the village ahead.
"…we die again."
A girl screamed.
Another covered her mouth and began praying desperately under her breath.
The burly man cursed loudly.
Others started panicking all at once.
"No, this has to be fake!"
"What kind of prank is this?!"
"I don't want to die!"
Astha simply observed them quietly.
A death game.
An unknown system.
Possibly some form of post-mortem psychological trial.
His heartbeat remained unusually calm.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Then—
Clack.
The sound echoed sharply across the road.
Everyone turned instantly.
An old man stood beneath the lantern light.
No one had seen him arrive.
One moment the road had been empty.
The next—
he was simply there.
He was tall and unnaturally thin, dressed in an old kurta and pagdi. A heavy mustache covered most of his face, but it could not hide the horrifying curve of his smile.
It was too wide.
Too stiff.
Too unnatural to belong to a human being.
A strange chill crept beneath Astha's skin for the first time since arriving.
The old man slowly spread his arms.
"Welcome…"
His voice echoed strangely through the silent village, as though countless unseen mouths were repeating the word alongside him.
The lantern light flickered.
Somewhere deep within the darkness between the houses—
something laughed softly.
The old man's smile widened further.
"…to Darshan Village."
What's the game? And how does Astha get out of this?