Shane opened his eyes to concrete and sky.

  Wrong. He was supposed to be in bed, nursing a hangover, not flat on his back in… this. Staring at the graffiti-covered side of a dumpster, he tried to sit up, but his body just slid off a mountain of black trash bags.

  Pain jolted through his muscles as he brought a shaky hand to his forehead.

  What the hell?

  He was in an alley, surrounded by piles of trash.

  His breathing quickened when he saw where he was—looming above the alley were the still-standing buildings of virtual New York.

  Why did he log into a game he quit five years ago?

  Sunlight ricocheted between buildings, stabbing at his eyes, forcing him to cover them with the back of his hand.

  The unmistakable stench of old garbage made him wrinkle his nose. Since when did his VR rig have olfactory output? Did he leave a window open?

  Great, the coincidence was making this way more fucking immersive.

  A sharp heat stung his cheek.

  “Jesus!” a voice muttered.

  Shane narrowed his eyes in the alleyway.

  A man in a suit, holding a briefcase, was staring at him from a few feet away. Shane coughed. The air was suddenly thick with the bitter taste of… was this a filter? He reached a shaky hand to his collar and dug out a still-smoking cigarette.

  Did that bastard just flick a stub at him?

  The guy looked like he wanted to shout, but flinched when he met Shane’s glare.

  “D-didn’t see you there,” the man mumbled. He gave a stiff nod, which was more like a shudder, and hurried away, his dress shoes clattering obnoxiously on the pavement.

  Shane let the stub drop from his trembling fingers and wiped the ash from his hand onto his already-filthy coat.

  His drunken brain finally pieced together the memories of last night.

  It was the anniversary of his…

  He flinched as her name tried to form in his mind. Just thinking her name felt like swallowing glass. No. That right wasn’t his anymore.

  It was the anniversary of his… friend’s death.

  What the hell was he thinking? Downing a whole bottle of whiskey by himself. It’d already been five years since she passed away.

  He swiped a drop of sweat from his chin.

  “I’m never drinking again…”

  He got to his feet as he rubbed his parched throat, his other palm scraping against the gritty asphalt. Wincing, he looked at the tiny pebbles embedded in his skin. Shit. They didn’t have to upgrade the haptic feedback engine this much.

  He started wandering with the crowd of pedestrians to find a cleaner place. Like the library, where he could clear his thoughts.

  His head pounded with every step.

  Did the hangover usually carry over to the game? Because what was the point of simulating a headache so accurately?

  Going to work tomorrow was going to be hell.

  Not that that would be anything new. He was always dead-tired, just like all the other cogs working for the government. Shane had student loans to pay off and a mortgage to think of, so it wasn’t likely he’d escape the rat race anytime soon.

  He stifled a yawn before freezing at the reflection staring back at him from a storefront window.

  “Shit.”

  A shoulder slammed into him.

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  “Watch it, asshole! You drunk at 9AM?” a Non-Player Character shouted as the New York foot traffic flowed around him.

  Ignoring the NPC, Shane covered his face and took a deep breath. Hell, no. Just how drunk had he gotten last night?

  He reluctantly looked again. Not one, but two vermillion eyes inspected him. A familiar face—the one he used to have before he burned the left side.

  Apparently, he’d been drunk enough to forget who he was now.

  There was a reason he left the ugly scar and refused to have it removed with surgery all these years. He couldn’t believe he’d given himself a normal eye the second he could, even if it was just in-game.

  He already wanted to log out. But he knew the game wouldn’t let him, at least, not until he finished the tutorial.

  [Tutorial Quest]

  New! Step 1: Obtain a weapon

  He sighed. He needed a drink.

  “Let’s just get this over with.”

  His hand clicked on a blinking notification in his peripheral.

  [Transmigration complete.]

  [Welcome to your new reality.]

  Shane flicked the pop-up away. Apparently, they were giving the game a dramatic intro now. Another pop-up appeared.

  [Welcome, Predator of the Seraphim.]

  Predator of the Seraphim?

  Why the hell did he pick that backstory? He’d always hated it.

  Apparently, Shane was now a lone wolf out for revenge after aliens posing as angels had killed his family.

  [Title: Predator of the Seraphim]

  Your oath to avenge your family gives strength that transcends your limits. All skill ranks will rise two tiers when fighting a Celestial-class monster. Celestial-class monsters of the Third Sphere will cower in your presence, unless they are under the direct command of a nearby superior.

  There were three spheres of Celestial-class monsters, with the third being the weakest. The title was basically a buff—a pretty broken buff, if you asked Shane—since all the major bosses in the game were Celestial-class monsters.

  He fingered his coat collar. Not that it mattered. He’d be logging out the moment he finished the damn tutorial.

  A pinprick of cold struck his eye.

  He flinched and his hand immediately flew up to his face. It was wet.

  Rain? No. Snow in spring? Just his luck.

  He looked down, finally processing his starter gear. A coat, simple jeans, and a pair of sneakers. At least his friend had spared him the default new-character humiliation of starting out half-naked in heart-patterned white boxers.

  Along with the starter mana potions and cash in his inventory, he was off to a good start.

  A sudden noise jolted him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the sidwealk he was standing on. A dozen different engines all roared to life at the same time; the traffic light had changed.

  Right. The tutorial. He needed to hurry up and finish things to get out of here.

  He stepped off the curb and started to cut across traffic, and the street instantly filled with the symphony of screeching tires.

  The first note was a yellow cab’s blare. A red sedan behind it slammed on its brakes, which forced a massive delivery van to swerve hard, its own horn blasting furiously against the windows of the nearby shops.

  “Get outta the damn road!” a driver screamed, his face purple with rage as he leaned out the window of a pickup.

  Shane just jogged by with his hands in his coat pocket, ignoring the background noise.

  He casually made it across and cut through a small plaza, and slowed to a stop when he spotted a giant object in the center.

  A Christmas tree?

  This game always started in spring. Unless… Shane opened the menu again and checked the difficulty.

  [Honor Mode]

  The highest difficulty, where one death ends the game.

  Honor Mode started almost a year after the main plot began, which gave players much less time to grind.

  Even worse, it meant he’d be freezing his tail off. He glanced down at his coat again. Okay, so this was definitely done on purpose.

  His friend had once made him swear he’d see the ending with her in [Honor Mode] someday. Had this been her plan all along? She had been unusually hyped the day he finally agreed to play.

  His jaw clenched at the memory, feeling like his head was about to split from the stress of this whole situation.

  As if the pain shocked his brain awake, a memory from last night hit him. He pressed his hand against his temple as the blood drained from his face.

  He’d found a scheduled email from his friend while clearing out his inbox. That was why he’d logged in. Or had it been a dream? No, scheduling an email to hit his inbox five years after her death was exactly the kind of thing she would do.

  The words scrolled through his mind again.

  If you’re reading this, I guess I’m dead. Don’t miss me too much, alright?

  I snuck in a little surprise for you in the game, so you check it out when you have time.

  You’ll find my last message if you can beat the game.

  I’m counting on you.

  Oh, and don’t forget, you need to say my secret password to get started on the right path. Have fun!

  There was a hidden message in the game for him? Her last words, maybe.

  All he had to do was speak the keyword to start the run.

  Shane blinked slowly. Memories of his childhood friend flooded him as he tried to push away the guilt he’d thought he had buried. Apparently, the grave he’d dug was too shallow.

  Well, if this was what she wanted, then he owed her, especially after everything they went through together.

  Shane cleared his throat before saying the keyword under his breath.

  “…Glitchy llama.”

  He waited. Nothing happened. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

  Of course she was still trolling him, even after she was—

  [Status change detected.]