The sound of a new-order notification popped up on his phone screen like a death knell, unusually shrill on that terrible, stormy night.
"Ding dong! You've received a new delivery request. Please process it as soon as possible."
Arthur shivered, unsure whether from the cold or irritation.
It was half past midnight in London. Outside, the pounding rain seemed intent on drowning the entire city. Heavy droplets crashed into the puddles along the roadside, creating muddy bursts of water.
He huddled under the narrow awning of a 24-hour convenience store, his faded blue delivery uniform already soaked through. He unscrewed his thermos and took a sip of hot water, feeling slightly more alive.
"Bloody hell… who orders takeaway in weather like this…" he muttered, but opened the app anyway with a resigned expression.
It was a large order, and the comment section had been filled out meticulously.
"One spicy hot pot, two cold grilled noodles, five grilled squid skewers, one iced cola… Address: Riverside Garden Complex, Building 18. Notes: Must arrive within 30 minutes! If the soup spills: bad review! If the noodles are soggy: bad review! If the squid is cold: bad review! If the cola isn't ice-cold: bad review! One minute late and I'll demand a refund!!!"
Arthur rubbed his temples in frustration.
What he feared most in the delivery business were these "gods of bad reviews." They didn't care whether he froze, slipped, or drowned in the rain — their cola had to be ice-cold.
But the amount listed at the bottom made him swallow the curse he was about to spit out.
Delivery fee: £3.50Platform bonus: £1.50Bad weather supplement: £3.00
A total of £8 — nearly four times the profit of his usual orders.
"I'll do it," Arthur decided.
Money was the only courage he had. For eight pounds, he would appease any "review god."
He climbed onto his second-hand e-bike, which rattled everywhere except the horn, hooked his phone to the holder, tightened his helmet, and plunged into the rain.
Cold water immediately coated his visor. The tiny wiper had long since broken, so he had to squint, relying on streetlamps and car headlights to navigate the flooded road.
The wheels splashed through puddles, spraying icy water up his legs. A sharp chill crawled up his soaked trousers.
Arthur was twenty-two. Not tall, not especially handsome, and juggling law school with part-time delivery work. Exhausting and undignified as it was, it paid rent faster than any student job he'd found.
At least it let him send a bit of money home to his parents back in a small village in Devon.
"Son, don't overwork yourself," they always said.
But how could he not? Rent, utilities, textbooks, food, the occasional break — what didn't cost money? He refused to live a life of nothing but struggle. He dreamed of finishing his degree, passing the exams, becoming a solicitor, changing his future.
"Once I graduate… things will be different," he often told himself.
The rain thickened, blown sideways by a fierce wind that sent the trees swaying like wild dancers.
His navigation showed only two traffic lights left.
He calculated quickly: eleven minutes. Tight. He pushed the throttle, and the old e-bike groaned in protest.
The light turned green. Arthur shot forward.
But as he reached the centre of the intersection, something happened — suddenly, impossibly.
A small girl in a yellow raincoat — where she'd come from, he couldn't imagine — slipped right into the middle of the road, clutching a drenched kitten. The kitten panicked and bolted away.
"Meow!"
Panicking, the girl tried to chase it, completely unaware of the lorry roaring toward her from another direction, headlights blinding in the rain.
A blaring horn split the night.
"BEEEEEP—!!!"
The driver saw her too late. He swerved, but the slick road betrayed him. The massive vehicle skidded sideways, an iron beast out of control.
It was sliding straight toward the girl.
Everything happened in a fraction of a second.
Arthur's pupils shrank.
Run?
From where he was, with just a little acceleration, he could make it across the intersection and survive. The girl meant nothing to him. Was it worth risking his life?
No, a voice screamed inside his mind.
If he died, what would his parents do? What about his degree? His future? The life he'd barely begun to build?
But then… he saw the girl's face. That look of pure terror and helplessness.
It pierced him like a needle.
Bloody hell…
Arthur had never been a hero. He was just a tired student doing deliveries to stay afloat. But something in him snapped.
"MOVE!!"
He roared — he didn't even know he could yell that loudly — and jerked the handlebars, throwing all his strength into steering toward the girl.
Not to hit her — but to push her out of the way.
BANG!
His e-bike slammed into her side, launching her tumbling onto the wet pavement, safely away from the lorry's path. Aside from a few scrapes, she was unharmed.
But Arthur had lost his only chance to escape.
The lorry plowed into him and the bike.
"BOOOOM—!!!"
The impact was catastrophic.
He felt himself flung into the air, weightless and broken. He heard the snapping of bones, the gasps of horrified passersby, the distant wail of an approaching ambulance.
Everything grew cold. Heavy. Faint.
Blood trickled from his nose and mouth as the rain blurred the city lights before him.
His thoughts flickered.
"Damn… the order will be late…"
"That review maniac… will demand a refund… What a waste…"
"Mum… Dad… your son… hasn't been good to you… I'll repay you… next life…"
"My degree… my future… none of it… even started yet…"
His consciousness dimmed, swallowed by the growing darkness.
He didn't see the little girl he had saved, clinging to her mother, pointing at him as she cried her heart out.
And he never knew that his final delivery… was never completed.