How NOT to Die in Style

Morning came way too soon.
Or maybe I just spent the whole night overthinking what I should do…
Great. I can’t even sleep without my life choices haunting me.

Sleeping in a chair was just as horrible as it sounds.
Actually, I think the prison bed in Norwenthia was comfier.
And we shared that one with rats. With names.

My neck cracked like a cheap kung-fu movie just as Evelyn stretched with a smile.
Her. Calm. Rested. With a conscience as clean as her total lack of shame.

“Ren, aren’t you going to make me breakfast?”

A vein popped on my temple.
“What do you think this is, your house!?”

“Well… I figured since we’re a couple now, we’d share a house. And a bed.”

She said it in a sweet, teasing tone she’d definitely practiced just to piss me off.
A couple!? Since when is this a bargain-bin shoujo manga!?

“LIKE HELL WE ARE!”

I stormed off to the kitchen, fired up with a mission.
“Tch… Who does she think she is? Wants breakfast? I’ll show her what a real breakfast looks like.”

I tied on my apron with the solemnity of a warrior donning his armor.
It was time to prove that true cooking didn’t need horns—just pride.
Yesterday’s "breakfast" didn’t count.
What Evelyn had made wasn’t food… it was a culinary war crime.

After a flurry of pans, butter, spoon clashing and sheer focus...

“EVELYN!” I yelled from the kitchen. “Didn’t you want breakfast?!”

Like a hungry puppy, she peeked her head through the door, sniffing the air.
She walked over curiously… and froze.

“Whoa! You made all this yourself?”

“Who else do you think made it? The neighbor?”

On the table sat my masterpiece: perfectly stacked pancakes, golden with honey and crowned by a strawberry redder than my recovered pride.

Evelyn sat down, inspected the plate like a food critic, then started devouring it without hesitation.

“Ren! This is amazing!” she said, eyes sparkling.

“Of course it is,” I said, puffing up my chest like I’d just saved the world with a spatula.

After years of living alone, I’d picked up decent cooking skills.
Though to be fair… laziness often won, and I defaulted to microwave stuff.

While Evelyn enjoyed her meal, I sat down in front of her.

“Hey, Evelyn…”

She kept eating, but I could tell her ears were locked in.
Multitasking: goddess-tier.

“I’ve been thinking and… I want to go back to Khaelym.”

Yeah. I said it. Out loud.
And this time, it wasn’t just emotional impulse.
Even though I wasn’t there long, it was enough to make me want to return.
Well… not all of it.
The Princess part? Yeah, we’re not bringing that back, thanks.

Evelyn paused. She looked at me. Intently.

“Alright,” she said with a smile.
And for the first time, it didn’t feel like one of her teasing grins.
It felt… genuine. Or at least seemed genuine.

I smiled back. I was starting to understand her. A little.

Then she activated turbo mode and demolished the rest of the pancakes like she hadn’t eaten in centuries.
Once not a crumb was left, she jumped to her feet.

“Let’s go, then! I’m ready.”

“What do I have to do?”

“I told you… you have to die.”

“…What? Can’t you just take me? Or have Cynthia snap her fingers again?”

Evelyn shook her head.

“Could I at least have one of those energy drinks again? Like last time…”

“Cynthia was clear. It has to be your will. I can’t interfere.”

...

So what am I supposed to do? Jump out a window? Shove a fork in an outlet and pray?

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this… Are you guys seriously asking me to kill myself?”

“Not necessarily,” Evelyn said like she was about to give me a cookie recipe.
“You could just… not be careful doing certain things.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“It is,” she said with a smirk.

Easy for an immortal goddess. Dying, reviving—whatever they do when they bite it.

“Ren, let’s go outside. You’re too safe in here.”

Before I could object, she grabbed my hand and dragged me out.

We walked for a while.
Too long, if you ask me.

“Where are we going, Evelyn?”

“We’re almost there,” she answered with a mysterious smile.
Which, by the way, did not help.

We ended up at a construction site.
Giant cranes defied gravity lifting heavy stuff.
Scaffolding, cement bags, rusty beams…
A huge sign at the entrance read:
HELMETS MANDATORY

No way…

“Come on, Ren! Let’s go in!” she said cheerfully.

I entered. Hesitant, but I entered.
The place was a mess of moving machines and overworked men.
Crates, beams swinging over our heads, forklifts, drills…

Every step felt like death was looming over me, ready to strike in the form of a tragic accident.

But we crossed the whole site… and nothing happened.

“Boo…” Evelyn muttered, clearly bummed her plan had flopped.

“Hey, Evelyn, don’t be sad. I’m sure we’ll find some way to get me killed.”

…Did I just say that out loud?
I’m comforting a goddess about how I’ll die.
This is seriously messed up.

Still, my words seemed to cheer her up.
Her face lit up like she’d just leveled up in a JRPG.

Then a ball rolled gently into my foot.
I looked up. A group of kids stood across the road, eyes sparkling.

“Mister! Can you pass the ball back?”

Perfect moment to show off.
Impressionable kids + hot demon girl = perfect combo.

I started juggling the ball like I had soccer in my DNA.
A few tricks. A spin. A cool dribble.

And now… my signature move.

“Here it comes!” I shouted, going for the most stylish kick in modern history.

What I didn’t count on… was physics.
And bad luck.
And a cursed curb.

I slipped.
Fell backwards.
CRACK!

My head hit the pavement like a watermelon at a medieval fair.

And just like that, in the most pathetic way possible…

...

I was back in the Limbo.

THAT WAS EMBARRASSING.

Evelyn stood beside me, back in her demon form—horns, wings, tail—and barely holding back the biggest laugh in Limbo’s history.

“Evelyn… this stays between us, got it?” I muttered, rubbing my head.

“Sure, Soccer Wizard,” she snorted, already tearing up from laughing.

Yup. I’m never living this down.

But something felt off.
This wasn’t the usual tea room for dead people.
No. Now it was… a gym?

Yes. With treadmills, floating dumbbells, and the most disturbing part:
Cynthia, on an elliptical, dressed in workout gear that should be illegal.

Hair tied up in a messy bun, with two strands framing her face like some fanservice trap card.
Her zipper was halfway down—not on purpose, just… the outfit couldn’t handle the situation.

“Hey, Cynthia,” I greeted with as much fake calm as I could muster.

“Oh, it’s you, Ren. Finally decided to come back?” she asked mid-exercise, panting a bit.

“Let’s say… yes.”

“I’m glad, Ren. I knew you would,” she said, slowing down, wiping her sweat with a towel, and delivering a waifu calendar-worthy scene in the process.

Cynthia stepped down from the machine with divine grace, her expression turning serious.

“While you were in your world, time kept moving in Khaelym. The Demon King’s been more active. He’s attacked several villages.”

Great. Can’t even die in peace without the villain leveling up.

“I trust you’ll be able to stop that idiot,” she added firmly.

Yeah… sure. No pressure, right?

“Cynthia… if I die again in Khaelym… do I come back here or do I get the full VIP pass to the afterlife?”

“That depends. Planning to die like a walking meme again?”

…Not a plan, but can’t rule it out.

“Just try doing it better next time,” she said, clearly questioning her life choices.

“YOU THINK I WANTED TO DIE THAT HORRIBLY!?”

“If only you’d been more suspicious about that mission reward…” Cynthia muttered, arms crossed.

I shrugged, defeated.

“Alright, alright. I get it…”

“Let’s go, sis! We’ve got stuff to do!” Evelyn chimed in, pumped like this was some beach vacation.

Cynthia sighed and snapped her fingers.

“WAIT! Send us somewhere peaceful this time!” I shouted, remembering our last arrival.

No answer.
Just a smile…

One of those smiles.

The magic circle lit up around us.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH—!”

...

Wait.
I’m not falling.
Why am I screaming?

There it was.
The guild.
But not my room.

Nope. That’d be too convenient.

I was standing in the middle of the guild’s main hall.
Surrounded by adventurers eating breakfast, drinking…
And now… staring at me.

All of them.

But not like I was some legendary hero.

No.

They stared like they’d just watched a man scream like a schoolgirl because of a flying cockroach.

...

I slowly stood up, cleared my throat with fake dignity…

And prayed for the floor to swallow me whole.

“Good morning… uh… weird weather today, huh?”