Beep. Beep. Beep.
The rhythmic, highly annoying sound of a heart monitor echoed in Rick's ears.
As he slowly opened his eyes, a sterile white ceiling with harsh fluorescent lights stared back at him.
"Ughh!" He groaned as the bright light stung his retinas.
He lay completely still for a moment, wanting to settle his eyes, as he remembered the massive black truck.
He was hit. It was a bone-shattering impact, and he remembered the sickening crunch of his own ribs caving in, and the taste of metallic blood pooling in the back of his throat.
But why was he not feeling anything? No dizziness. No pain. Not even a dull ache.
Rick pushed the thin white blanket off his chest and sat up in the bed, as he looked down at his body. He was wearing a faded blue gown.
He pulled the collar down to check his chest. There were no bruises, no bandages, and definitely no protruding ribs. His skin was completely smooth and unharmed.
He flexed his fingers. He wiggled his toes. Everything worked perfectly.
'Was that accident a dream? That whole 'God of Mischief' thing... it must have been a hallucination right before my brain shut down,' Rick thought, letting out a cynical snort.
But when he looked around the empty, sterile white room, it wasn't his apartment, these were not his clothes.
So the accident did happen?! And if that's the case, there was no way he survived taking a ten-tonne heavy-duty truck straight to the spine without a single scratch.
Then there is only one possible explanation. This pristine room was the afterlife waiting room. It was the place where the dead were checked and processed before going to their final judgment.
'I got my hopes up for no reason,' Rick shrugged.
Well, either way, he didn't really care.
He was dead, and he felt great.
The heavy, depressing weight of his old life: The rigged job market, his pathetic streaming channel, and above everything else, Emily's drunken whining, he had left everything behind.
'Maybe I will get reborn into some rich family and won't have to grind my ass off again.'
Rick was already hoping to get lucky in his next life, but just then the handle of the heavy wooden door clicked.
Rick turned his head as the door pushed open. A woman walked into the room, holding a plastic clipboard.
Rick's eyes instantly locked onto her. If this was the afterlife welcome committee, Yama has some excellent taste.
She was young, though she could have been easily five or six centuries old, she looked no older than twenty-twenty five, with large, brown eyes and dark hair pulled up into a messy bun.
But it was her body that demanded total attention. She was wearing standard blue medical scrubs, but the uniform was doing a terrible job of hiding her figure.
The V-neck top was stretched tight over a pair of heavy, plump breasts, hinting at a deep, inviting cleavage. The scrub trousers clung tightly to a wide flare of hips and a distinctly thick, perky ass.
"Oh! You are already awake!" she gasped, her wide eyes locking onto Rick. She pressed the clipboard to her heavy chest, looking genuinely relieved, "This... this is a miracle."
Rick didn't reply immediately. He just stared openly at her chest, not bothering to hide his lecherous gaze. Usually, he would have nervously looked away, terrified of being labelled a creep. He would have stuttered out a polite greeting.
But this was the afterlife. Why the fuck should he pretend to be a polite simp anymore?
"Are you my personal angel?" Rick asked, his voice rough and completely devoid of his usual anxiety.
The woman blinked, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. She smiled warmly and walked closer to the bed, "Ummm... In a way you can say that."
"As long as you are here, I will take care of you."
"God, I couldn't have asked for anything better," Rick said, leaning back against the pillows and crossing his arms. "So, how does this work? Do I go straight to the fiery pits, or is there a scale where you weigh my sins first?"
She giggled, clearly assuming he was just a concussed patient using dark humour to cope with his trauma. "Oh, you won't be going anywhere for a while. You had a very rough trip getting here."
"Yeah, taking a heavy-duty truck to the spine will do that," Rick stated flatly, "Glad it's over, honestly. The real world was a rigged shithole. Being here is already feeling like a massive upgrade."
"Well, you are safe now," she said smoothly, as she checked the IV line connected to his hand, "We just need to monitor your vitals and make sure your system is stable after the shock."
She leaned over him to adjust the blood pressure cuff on the monitor.
As she leaned forward, the loose V-neck of her scrubs gaped open. Rick got a clear, unobstructed view down her top.
She was wearing a white lace bra that was struggling to contain her heavy, pale breasts. He could see the soft swell of her cleavage and the faint outline of her nipples pressing against the lace.
Rick's mouth went dry. His body reacted instantly, a heavy rush of blood rushing straight to his groin.
'This... Are they trying to make me commit to a sin?' Rick thought, as his heart began to pound harder.
She was so close to him that he could smell her perfume. It felt like a sweet mix of vanilla and strawberries.
'Bit do the sins committed here even count? Surely not, right? I am already dead, what's the worse can happen?" Rick thought to himself.
And he suddenly had a bold idea.
Just as the lady reached up to adjust the monitor, Rick moved without hesitation as he reached out with his right hand, and placed his hand on her firm ass.
And before the girl could even react to what was happening, without any hesitation, Rick squeezed the soft flesh hard through the thin fabric of her blue scrubs, kneading it ruthlessly.
"Ah!" the girl let out a sharp, high-pitched yelp.
The clipboard dropped from her hands, and it clattered loudly onto the floor. Full with surprise, she jumped back as if she had just been electrocuted, slapping her hands over her backside. Her face instantly flushed a furious, bright crimson red.
"What the hell are you doing?!" she shrieked, her eyes wide with absolute shock and rising anger.
On the other hand, Rick stared at his right hand.
The physical sensation had been electric. The firm resistance of her flesh, the heat radiating through the fabric, the sharp, ringing sound of her yelp.
Instinctively, Rick moved his hand towards his nose, wanting to smell the lingering warmth and fragrance on his palms.
But as the girl watched Rick do it, her jaw dropped in absolute shock, "Stop.... Don't you dare do it."
"What?!" Rick frowned, as he stopped mid way and looked back up at her, "Do angels feel pain?"
"Angels?!" she yelled, her face burning bright red, "I am your nurse, Maya! You are in the intensive care unit at St. Jude's Hospital!"
Rick's eyes widened, "Hospital? Bullshit. I know I am already dead."
"You are very much alive!" Maya shot back, grabbing her clipboard from the floor and holding it like a shield over her chest.
"The paramedics brought you in last night! Your clothes were shredded and you were found covered in blood on the pavement! But somehow, your bones are completely fine! You just have a severe concussion,"
"It is hard to believe, but it explains why you are acting like a complete pervert!"
Nurse Maya shot back at Rick, As her breathing got faster and deeper.
"So you mean to say..."
"I am..."
"Not dead?!"
** ** ** ** **
[A/N: For every 50 Power stones, I will release a bonus chapter the next day! Keep supporting the story.]