Vol. 1 - Ch. 1 - The Ghost of Theater Returns Home
I'm Not The Drama GodThis chapter is broken. Please report this on discord.
Notes
TL: Lolol. He actually ate the water jug!! Holy shit!
This chapter is broken. Please report this on discord.
TL: Lolol. He actually ate the water jug!! Holy shit!
"Who... am I?"
Boom—
Pale lightning streaked through ink-like clouds, casting an eerie glow on the tumultuous scene below. Rain cascaded in sheets, as if a godly thunderstorm had decided to drench the muddy earth. Amidst the chaos, a shattered silhouette in vermilion hues could be seen reflected in the ripples of water puddles.
A young man, draped in a vibrant red theatrical robe, staggered through the mire as if intoxicated. His wide sleeves twirled in the fierce wind, while the rain cleansed the mud from the robe's surface, revealing a blood-like crimson against the backdrop of the dark night.
"Stop shouting... Stop it!"
"Shut up!"
"I'm about to remember... soon... I'm about to remember..."
"I have a name... a name that belongs to me!"
The young man's wet, black hair draped down to his eyebrows, and his bewildered eyes revealed a sense of confusion. Grappling with elusive memories, he struggled to advance, clutching his head in desperation.
His shout reverberated through the deserted street, but its reach was stifled by the endless curtain of rain, dissipating into the stormy night unheard.
Splash—
In the dimness, his body tripped over a protruding stone, crashing heavily to the ground!
A strand of crimson blood trickled down from the young man's forehead as he slumped to the ground with a dull thud. Suddenly, as if recalling something, a faint glimmer lit up in his cloudy eyes.
"Chen Ling..."
A name flashed through his mind.
As he spoke those two words, a snippet of his memory emerged from the overwhelming whispers in his head, blending with his frail form.
"What is this... a transmigration?"
Chen Ling furrowed his brow, his mind grappling with the continuous influx of memories from this unfamiliar body. His brain throbbed as if being torn apart.
At 28 years old, Chen Ling was an intern director at a theater in the capital city. Following a performance, he found himself alone on the stage, planning actors' movements, when a violent earthquake struck. A sharp pain in his head led to complete unconsciousness.
Reflecting on it now, he speculated that he might have been killed by a falling spotlight...
Simultaneously, Chen Ling found himself slowly assimilating the memories of this body. What surprised him was the revelation that the previous owner of this body also bore the name Chen Ling.
However, their fundamental understanding of the world was drastically different, and the fragmented memories seemed to collide within Chen Ling’s mind, making him feel like his mind was about to explode.
Taking deep breaths, he struggled to rise from the ground. The theatrical robe, now adorned with patches of black and red, had made him look extremely disheveled.
For some reason, his body felt extremely heavy, as if he had been drained after several consecutive nights of staying up late to write scripts. It was the kind of exhaustion that left one feeling utterly depleted.
"Let's go home first..."
His exhausted body and fragmented thoughts made it nearly impossible for him to think.
He had no choice but to rely on the instincts of this body, moving in the direction of what he assumed was "home."
Although the circumstances leading him here were unclear, the previous owner of this body held memories of this place. Daily, he used to traverse this path after attending to his brother at the clinic—a journey that typically took two or three minutes.
However, for him at this moment, this distance felt unusually long. The rain, accompanied by a biting cold, soaked Chen Ling's body, and uncontrollable shivers racked his frame.
Enduring the cold and fatigue, he trudged through the rain for ten minutes until the familiar door from his memories came into view.
As he fumbled in his pocket, Chen Ling realized he didn't have the keys. Skillfully, he found a spare key at the bottom of the newspaper box near the door and unlocked it.
Creak—
Warm light spilled from inside the house, illuminating a glow on a corner of the dark rainy night and highlighting Chen Ling's pale face.
Upon seeing this light, Chen Ling felt his tense nerves naturally unwind, and the cold and fatigue seemed to lift a bit under the soothing glow of the lamp.
Entering the house, he spotted two figures seated on opposite sides of the dining table, their eyes reddened as if they had just been crying.
At the sound of the door opening, both of them initially froze, then turned their heads simultaneously.
"Dad... Mom... I'm back."
With a heavy head, Chen Ling instinctively moved to change shoes at the entrance but soon realized he was already barefoot. His soles and toes were almost entirely caked with mud, imprinting two large black footprints on the floor.
At the dining table, the two figures, seeing the red-clothed Chen Ling entering, had their pupils contract dramatically in response.
"You... you..."
The man's Adam's apple bobbed, and his mouth opened wide, wearing an expression as if he had just witnessed a ghost.
"Mom... Is there water at home? I'm so thirsty." Upon returning home, Chen Ling completely relaxed, his consciousness teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Murmuring to himself, he shuffled into the kitchen, grabbed the water pitcher from the dispenser, and began to drink.
Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle...
In the kitchen, the red-clad figure, resembling a wild beast, greedily gulped down the water.
The water trickling from the corner of his mouth dripped onto the floor, forming puddles that reflected the terrified and pale faces in the living room.
"Ah... Ah Ling?" The woman mustered courage, trembling as she spoke, "How did you... How did you come back?"
Chen Ling, engrossed in gulping down water, paid no attention to the woman's words. Seemingly impatient with the slow pace of drinking, he forcefully shoved the fist-sized water jug head into his mouth, biting it to pieces!
The sound of chewing on synthetic plastic filled the air as the rushing water poured into his mouth, bringing satisfaction and refreshment.
"I walked back."
A voice came from behind Chen Ling.
Yes... from behind.
At this moment, while Chen Ling continued to drink water with intense focus, his voice distinctly reached the ears of the two people.
As if in the invisible void behind him, there stood another red-clothed Chen Ling, hands open, responding nonchalantly.
"The rain was quite heavy, and I seemed to have lost my way."
"Looks like I fell a few times on the way, and my shoes are nowhere to be found..."
"Mom, I've made the floor dirty. If it's not urgent, just wait for me to clean it up tomorrow... I'm too tired now."
Watching this eerie scene in front of them, the man and woman in the living room felt a chilling sensation on the back of their necks.
The kerosene lamp in the glass lampshade swayed as if an invisible hand was playfully toying with the wick.
Their faces turned pale, but they stood in place rigidly, too afraid to move.
Finally, the water jug was fully emptied.
Wiping his mouth, Chen Ling set down the water jug, turned around, and with each unsteady step, left black footprints on the floor. He staggered towards his bedroom.
"Dad, Mom... You should go to sleep early too. Good night."
Mumbling unclearly, he closed the bedroom door behind him, accompanied by the muffled sound of a heavy object falling onto the bed.
The living room plunged into silence.
After who knows how long, the two figures, seemingly still like sculptures, stiffly turned their heads to face each other. The swaying wick regained stability, and the eerie kerosene lamp barely illuminated the dim living room.
They trembled as they sat in their chairs, their faces devoid of any trace of color.
"He... has come back." The man's hoarse voice uttered, "How is this possible..."
"If he really is Ah Ling..."
"Then who did we kill last night?"