Kazuki Ren was not supposed to survive.
If anyone had been asked to calculate his chances at exactly 8:42 PM that night, the answer would have been simple, clean, and merciless.
Zero.
The rain had been falling for hours by then not the gentle kind that soothed the streets, but the heavy, relentless downpour that turned highways into mirrors and tires into liabilities.
Most passengers on the late-night bus were half-asleep.
Some scrolling their phones.
Some listening to music.
Some simply trying to get home.
Ren was calculating.
He always was.
His dark eyes lifted slowly from the window the moment the bus began to feel… wrong.
It was subtle.
So subtle that no one else reacted.
A faint tremor beneath the wheels.
A slight delay in the vehicle's response to the road.
But Ren noticed.
He always noticed.
Outside the rain-slick glass, the streetlights began to stretch into thin golden lines a visual distortion most people would ignore.
Ren's pupils sharpened.
Hydroplaning.
His brain shifted gears instantly.
Not panic.
Never panic.
Only numbers.
Current speed: approximately 68 km/h
Road friction: critically reduced
Driver reaction window: less than 2 seconds
Still recoverable.
If the driver stayed calm.
If the driver corrected smoothly.
If the driver didn't do what humans always did under pressure.
Ren leaned back slightly in his seat, already adjusting his breathing.
Because deep down…
He knew.
Right on schedule, someone near the front gasped.
The steering wheel jerked violently.
Ren exhaled slowly.
There it is.
The bus fishtailed.
Once.
Twice.
The rear end began to slide sideways across the flooded highway like a blade skimming over ice.
Now the panic started.
A woman screamed.
Someone dropped their phone.
The driver cursed loudly.
Too late.
By the time fear becomes audible, survival odds are already collapsing.
Ren's heartbeat remained perfectly steady.
Not because he was fearless.
Because he was calculating.
His eyes moved rapidly around the interior.
Seat spacing.
Passenger density.
Distance to emergency exits.
Angle of the vehicle's current drift.
Variables assembled in his mind with machine-like clarity.
Survival probability if seated: 12%
Too low.
Ren's fingers moved calmly to his seatbelt.
Click.
Unbuckled.
The small sound vanished beneath the growing chaos.
People were standing now.
Shouting.
Praying.
Making the situation worse.
Ren stood smoothly, already moving forward through the aisle as the bus swerved again, tires screaming against the soaked asphalt.
Someone grabbed his sleeve in blind panic.
"Don't leave me—!"
Bad variable.
Ren's eyes flicked down instantly.
Grip strength: weak.
Time loss if resisted: unacceptable.
With precise efficiency, he rotated his wrist and slipped free without even breaking stride.
No hesitation.
No apology.
Because hesitation kills.
The emergency window was three steps away.
The bus slammed into the guardrail.
Metal shrieked like it was being torn apart by invisible claws.
The entire vehicle lifted slightly.
Balance lost.
Time compressing.
Ren planted his foot.
And kicked.
The reinforced glass cracked but held.
Not enough.
The bus began to roll.
Screams filled the air.
Loud.
Desperate.
Useless.
Ren kicked again.
Harder.
The emergency window exploded outward just as gravity shifted violently sideways.
Cold rain and night air rushed in.
Escape window: less than 2 seconds.
Ren didn't hesitate.
He launched himself through the shattered frame.
For one brief, fragile moment—
He thought he had solved it.
His body hit the wet asphalt shoulder-first, rolling with controlled momentum to disperse the impact exactly as planned.
Pain flared.
Manageable.
He began to push himself up—
Then the world turned white.
Headlights.
Too close.
Too fast.
Ren's pupils contracted sharply.
His mind calculated instantly.
Truck speed: extreme
Distance: insufficient
Evasion probability: 0.3%
…Ah.
For the first time that night—
Kazuki Ren smiled.
Small.
Calm.
Almost amused.
So even perfect play doesn't guarantee survival.
Impact came like judgment.
And the world went dark.
— Somewhere Beyond Death —
[Foreign Soul Detected]
[System Initialization Attempt…]
[ERROR]
Something had gone very, very wrong.