This is a Warcraft Dota alternate world novel. The original title of this book was "Dota World".

The Underworld Reincarnation Management Bureau, William Carter queued up at the reception desk.

“What’s going on?” the female ghost at the front desk asked.

“I bought a ball in the game shop and got transported.”

“Fill out a volunteer form so I can assign you,” the female ghost handed over a form.

Name, age, gender, measurements, marital status, reason for transmigration, first choice, second choice... William Carter filled them all in.

“Why did you leave the ‘special skills’ section blank?”

“Huh?”

“Special skills! Do you have any family martial arts manuals? Do you know how to make guns and cannons? Can you smelt steel or blow glass? Are you a business elite? Know anything about the military? Ever been an official? Being a doctor works too, geez! You’ve studied history at least, right? Damn! What exactly do you do? What? You only know how to play Dota? Why don’t you just die!”

Volume One: Frostmourne

Chapter One: Transmigration

Maybe there are very few people left in this world who transmigrate and still don’t know what’s going on.

At most, they just find it hard to believe.

William Carter stood up, rubbing his slightly swollen head, and looked around. He was in a forest.

The light filtering through the dense leaves was like a tangled fishing net, the cool breeze played a dark green bamboo flute, and bamboo leaves, like blue barracudas, spun and fell like flowers into the web of light.

If you added a cup of fragrant tea, picked up a brush to paint a beauty, and watched the painting board fill with melodious orioles, this scene would be the epitome of earthly beauty.

Unfortunately, William Carter was a thoroughly ordinary man. He stared blankly at the sun in the sky, which was much larger than before, rubbed his eyes, pinched himself, confirmed that this was not the world he knew, and that he wasn’t dreaming. Then, recalling the abnormal flash of light while he was sitting in front of his computer, he finally let out a loud yell, threw himself to the ground, ignored the musty smell of fallen leaves, and began kissing the earth beneath his feet.

He was too excited.

He jumped and shouted out weird, pervy noises.

Maybe successful people can’t understand how someone like William Carter feels at this moment—a down-and-out young man, living at the bottom of society, worn down by pressure and hardship, long since tired of his own world. So after transmigrating, instead of feeling depressed, he was filled with hope for life.

These days, whether you graduate from a top university, a second-rate college, a vocational high school, or even elementary school, the pressure of finding a job is about the same.

When he first graduated, William Carter thought society was simple. He went to Shenzhen alone, thinking that after three or four years, he’d easily make a million or so and return home in glory.

Salary didn’t matter; what mattered was the future of the job. That’s what William Carter told the HR at the company he was applying to—though, of course, he didn’t use the word “bro.”

The HR always wore a friendly smile, but his eyes were hidden behind tinted glasses. “Young people should have ambition. Go home and wait for our call. We’ll notify you as soon as possible.”

Then, nothing. Later, William Carter realized that he’d been too arrogant back then, and the worldly-wise HR had seen his restlessness at a glance. The company wanted solid, reliable workers, not “talent” with their head in the clouds like him.

Half a year after graduation, William Carter’s girlfriend broke up with him. She couldn’t wait any longer.

So William Carter became a true urban drifter. In two years, he traveled all over the country, changed jobs seven or eight times, and was too lazy to carry bedding. Every time he moved, he bought new bedding he couldn’t really afford, so he just made do.

A bare bed covered with newspapers, a pair of jeans for a blanket, and a roll of toilet paper for a pillow.

To sum up William Carter’s adaptability in one sentence: “Bro has achieved enlightenment.”

Now, William Carter was working in sales at a company. Usually dressed in a suit and tie, plus his decent looks, he actually looked like somebody. But in reality, William Carter’s salary was no higher than a migrant worker’s, and his expenses were even greater.

Many times, William Carter fantasized about whether his two bills could mate and produce a bunch of money babies.

Over the years, William Carter had tasted all the hardships of life and knew the pressure of living. Whenever he had a little spare cash, he’d squander it on indulgence.

He was no longer the naive, pure boy he was when he first fell in love. In William Carter’s words, “When a man has money, he should turn bad, because if a man has no money, a woman will lose interest.”

Why the hell should I make money for you to spend? Damn it, when I was using toilet paper as a pillow, which rich guy’s arms were you in?

William Carter resented beautiful women, especially those who loved money—a classic case of sour grapes. He’d think, “One day, when I’m rich, I’ll go to a car show dressed in rags. When some car model looks down on me and tells me to get lost, I’ll buy all the cars on display, have the manager fire that snobbish model, and watch her come begging to me with nowhere else to go. Damn!”

What? You ask how I’d drive so many cars? I’d just buy a tow truck to haul them.

William Carter also had a serious grudge against the rich, especially corrupt officials. But if he ever got to that position himself, whether he’d stay clean is anyone’s guess.