In an area surrounded by trees swaying their crowns in the wind—and a little farther away a stream flowed, producing a beautiful sound of nature—there was a wooden cabin built in a small open space.
Inside it, a young man lay on a bed with a grimy mattress, stained with blood. The red liquid poured out of his pores, which were completely open—not just tiny holes used to sweat, but nearly one-centimeter gaps from which blood flowed incessantly.
"What's happening? Did I die?"
The young man woke up murmuring words that didn't match his current situation. Opening his eyes, he looked at the ceiling in confusion. Then he wrinkled his nose, sensing the strong odor of blood. Lowering his gaze, he saw his bare upper body—his skin completely crimson.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaa!"
He screamed immediately, trying to move his arms—but they were utterly immobile, which sent him into even greater panic. His eyeballs trembled uncontrollably.
"Doctor! Please! I don't want to die!"
Cries for help echoed from his mouth, but unfortunately… that lonely place would do him no good.
After screaming for several minutes, his voice gave out. His saliva had completely dried up, and his vocal cords no longer worked.
'Why am I so unlucky?'
The young man, named Yu Yun, began to shed tears, feeling utterly wronged.
An hour earlier, to celebrate his coming of age, he had gone out drinking with a few friends. It was his first time tasting alcohol.
After feeling the liquid burn down his throat and its bitter, slightly sweet taste, he got dizzy. His brain felt unstable, and his vision began to blur.
He was drunk. He vaguely remembered continuing to drink. When he left the bar, the last thing he saw was a tall headlight and something hitting his body—turning it into a paste of flesh instantly.
After that, he opened his eyes in that unfamiliar place.
'Damn bad luck! Damn truck! Or whatever was completely out of control! I curse that driver to live a life worse than death!'
Yu Yun was sure he had been on the sidewalk and hadn't stepped onto the road. The blame lay entirely on the driver, who lost control of the wheel and ran him over.
'But where am I really? And why am I covered in blood? Is there any way I can survive?'
[Chance: 10%]
[Success Rates System activated]
[Calculate all the success rates you have in your life]
'Huh?' Yu Yun blinked when golden floating letters appeared above his eyes, hovering in the air. He tried to grab them, but couldn't—his nerves wouldn't move.
'Is this a dream?' he wondered, but immediately dismissed the thought. He could feel pain.
It was impossible for a brain to simulate something so real—or at least, as far as he knew, he had never heard of it.
'Calculating probabilities? So if this is real, I have a ten percent chance of living… but how? I can't even move!'
He complained in thought and looked again at the floating letters.
'What's the chance of me being able to walk?'
[50%]
Seeing that high percentage, Yu Yun's heart raced with excitement. Overjoyed, he immediately thought, 'How?' But no answer came. The system wasn't intelligent at all—he had to figure things out by himself.
'Damn it!' he cursed, completely clueless. 'If I use all my willpower, can I get up?'
[75%]
That was enough to calm Yu Yun, who gathered all his mental strength and forced himself to rise.
The instant he moved even a centimeter, the pain worsened—as if thousands of ants were boring into his skin. It was excruciating, almost making him give up. But remembering the rate that gave him hope, he didn't stop and, like a madman, straightened his back.
"I did it! I stood up!" Yu Yun smiled faintly, but the joy didn't last. The agony grew worse each second, and he began to wonder if his chance of survival had increased.
[20%]
The answer came instantly.
Yu Yun, who now had ten percent more survival rate, didn't stay on the bed waiting for death. He placed his feet on the floor and focused all his physical strength on the soles. With several cracking sounds, he stood up.
'If I walk, accelerating my blood loss, what's the chance I'll die in thirty minutes?'
[100%]
'Ten minutes?'
[75%]
'Five minutes?'
[50%]
That estimate darkened Yu Yun's expression. His chances of survival were incredibly low. Almost impossible. But there was still a small possibility—those twenty percent.
'There's still a way! I just haven't found it yet.'
He was certain of it, though he had no idea where to start looking—and being in an unknown place didn't help.
'System, what's the chance there's something in this cabin useful for my survival?'
[80%]
"That's so high!" he exclaimed, eyes widening. Like an eagle, he scanned the entire cabin but found nothing except a basin of water and some old clothes—nothing useful. 'Under the bed?'
That was a good option; if someone wanted to hide something, that'd be a perfect place.
Bending down with every muscle fiber twisting in pain, he placed his palm on the rough floor. Looking ahead, he saw, behind the bed's legs, a blue box.
'Is this thing useful for my survival?'
[100%]
"Finally, something good today!" Yu Yun's eyes lit up. Without wasting time—thirty seconds had already passed—he stretched out his arm, grabbed the box, and pulled it toward him.
Holding it with both hands, he sat back on the mattress. With an anxious expression, he opened the box. Inside was a crumpled jar containing a green paste that looked like ointment.
'This is my chance to live? This?' He rolled his eyes. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Rub it on my body and hope it heals me?!"
He was sarcastic and looked at the floating letters. "What's the chance this will work?"
[80%]
'Really? So this is a special ointment? Come to think of it… there's something I've been ignoring! This isn't Earth, is it? This place looks ancient! I transmigrated! What's the chance of that?'
[100%]
"What the hell! Transmigration is real? So I really did die on Earth, huh?" He felt a storm of emotions, the strongest being fury. He gritted his teeth at whoever was responsible for his premature death but decided to save it for later.
'One minute has passed! I'll die in four minutes at most, two at least.'
Yu Yun hadn't forgotten his condition. With a deep sigh, he unscrewed the jar and stuck his finger into the opening, scooping out some of the green substance.
Letting out another heavy breath, he spread the paste between his hands and began rubbing it all over his body. When the green vanished, he repeated the process. A minute later, as his vision began to blur, he poured the entire jar over himself, letting the green liquid run down his skin.
"I hope the rate doesn't lie… and that this ointment really heals me…" He stopped abruptly.