In the never-ending fall and melody, he murmured something under his breath, but even he couldn’t make out the words.

Vaguely, a voice like an illusion appeared—a gentle sound as if drifting down from the clouds, yet it rang right beside his ear.

“William Carter, do you wish to die here?”

In that instant, everything froze. The endless fall and the wailing melody came to an abrupt halt.

In the stillness, William Carter felt the pain and despair accumulated in his chest ignite, transforming into indistinct roars and howls in response to that illusory voice.

“No, never!”

Then, the burning pain in his chest erupted completely, making William Carter feel the terrifying agony of his body shattering inch by inch.

At that moment, William Carter’s eyes closed, and a proclamation, almost divine, sounded in his ear:

“Then, I grant you new life!”

The abruptly halted wailing melody resumed its endless performance, this time as an unprecedentedly grand symphony.

Invisible hands tugged at his soul, pulling him back from the boundary between life and death to where he once was.

Frozen time and the still world shattered, and he once again returned to the fall that lasted but a snap of the fingers.

The dull sound of impact had not yet faded when William Carter’s body spun in midair. Under the glare of blinding headlights, his eyes snapped open!

No longer the pure black of before, now his pupils were surrounded by a vast, deep blue, as boundless as the sky.

And so, in an instant, he saw a new world.

Even in the darkness of night, it was as bright as day; even the distant starry sky now seemed within reach.

The path of falling snow, the ripples stirred by the cold wind, the direction of spinning stars—all were reflected in those blue eyes, and in that moment, the true nature of all things was revealed.

The blue pupils seemed to tremble violently, taking in everything before them.

Instinct told William Carter that in about half a second, he would fall into the snow, right in front of the oncoming truck.

When that happened, the falling bicycle would be crushed and twisted under the heavy wheels, snapping in two and buying him about one second.

One second later, the speeding truck would run over his body.

A conservative estimate of the injuries: spinal fracture, most internal organs shattered, six broken ribs—instant death.

The probability was about seventy percent; the remaining thirty percent meant spending the next life as a disabled person in a wheelchair.

Both outcomes were terrible, and the latter was even worse.

So, in the howling cold wind, William Carter endured the pain of the impact and stretched out his right hand, the skin splitting open.

In the next instant, he crashed into the snow, and the sharp sound of the bicycle being crushed rang out. That old ‘Flying Pigeon’ bike, at least as old as William Carter himself, was crushed by the heavy tires behind him, twisted into a bizarre shape, finally reaching its limit and collapsing completely!

Shattered parts flew everywhere, and the truck’s direction shifted by a slight angle, then...

“Now!”

A muffled roar burst from William Carter’s chest, though to others it sounded like a high-pitched, brief scream.

With a growl, his arm slammed onto the frozen road, and the sudden burst of strength left his palm bloody and raw from the friction. The bones in his arm seemed to wail under the strain, cracks appearing.

Yet his body, propelled by this explosive force, shot to the right, rolling past the speeding wheels and landing in the snow.

The truck sped by, leaving a long skid mark on the frozen road before finally coming to a stop.

The panicked driver pushed open the door, trembling as he glanced back, but the night was pitch black—he couldn’t see a thing, and could only shakily climb down.

When he saw the two broken halves of the bicycle, the middle-aged, overweight man’s face twisted as if he were about to cry. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the icy ground in fright.

At that moment, he heard ragged breathing coming from the darkness.

A blurry figure slowly crawled out of the snow, moving toward him like a vengeful ghost.

Soaked in blood and wracked with pain, William Carter staggered forward, finally stepping into the hazy glow of the taillights, his face twisted in anger as he glared at the middle-aged, overweight driver.

“Watch it when you’re driving at night!”

A hoarse, furious growl burst out, and William Carter’s blood-stained face looked especially menacing, making the man on the ground scream.

“G-ghost! Aaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!”

With unbelievable lung power, his scream shot up to an ear-piercing pitch. The middle-aged man scrambled to his feet, rolling and crawling, and dove back into the truck, still screaming.

The engine roared to life, the truck sped away, leaving only a dazed William Carter behind.

It was a long time before he looked at his battered body and muttered in confusion, “Ghost, my ass...”