Viktorian knew he was dead. In fact, he knew he had been dead for a very long time. He had died in the most ridiculous way possible. He always knew his apartment was haunted; they warned him. The agent warned him, his family warned him, his neighbors warned him. He had even seen the warning signs.

  Even the doors slamming and lights turning off suspiciously were warnings. But he paid no attention to them.

  Ghosts? What are those? A figment of your imagination.

  He had done a long binge-watching session and settled in for a night of relaxation. Then he booted up a new role-playing game that had just dropped on the market. How was he supposed to know he would choke on noodles? Make no mistake, they were the tastiest instant noodles he had in a while.

  In the midst of scarfing down endless amounts of noodles, he ate too fast. He ran into the kitchen to find something in the fridge to drink. But along the way, he tripped over a pile of laundry that had been left on the floor.

  Then he crashed headfirst into the sink—his face completely planted into the sink he forgot to drain. Noodles dangled out of his mouth like some kind of eldritch horror. The worst part of all? His leg had awkwardly stuck in the stray laundry basket that wasn't supposed to be there. One of his long socks was pinning him down, keeping him in place. And to top it all off, there was a weight on his arms, pinning him down.

  The last thing he saw was a creepy-looking woman, smiling down at him. Giggling. Her hair was pale as snow, and her skin was as blue as the moon on a Monday.

  "You'll be stuck here with me forever," the phantom said.

  It would have stopped there, had he not struggled to break free. His hand knocked over his electric kettle, still plugged in. It flipped, and the lower contraption sent a lower circuit into the water, then electrified him while he was drowning.

  He gurgled, twitched, then suffocated while his nerves burned under the voltage.

  Everything went dark.

  He didn't know if he was dreaming, or if consciousness after death was all there was to living, but he had been drifting in this maddening void for some time now. He had been able to play pretend with imaginary characters for at least a few days, but now, he was stuck here.

  "Oh, brave gamer of MMOs and consumer of junk foods, do you wish to live again? Do you wish to try again?"

  Who was that? That voice—a figment of his imagination?

  "What? What the fuck! Who's there? Are you the ghost, the one that murdered me?"

  The voice hissed. "This is a goddess you're speaking to. You filthy mortal. Mind your language."

  Goddess? What nonsense. He supposed this was it? He was going to become mad.

  "Answer my question, or be consigned to oblivion... or the 24 trillion waiting list. That could take 3.5 years to be free."

  "24 trillion waiting list?" What did that mean? Would he wait in line for heaven, hell, or even reincarnation? Would it hurt to play along with the voice? He didn't think so. "Uh… I mean yes, I want to be reincarnated as an isekai hero, maybe a demon king with ultimate power, and I want all the cheat skills—"

  "Shut up!"

  Oops.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Then, suddenly, he was in a brightly lit room, painted and coated in shining bits of white light. Everything was white here—the furniture, the bed, even the goddess that stood in front of him.

  His body was his again. And he could move around and touch his skin.

  Viktorian's eyes widened. She was otherworldly in presence, with an aura that demanded reverence. Her flowing garments shimmered like the morning sky. He swallowed, feeling a sense of overwhelming awe. He dropped to his knees, unsure of what else to do.

  She stared down at him with contentment. Her feet were less than a meter away from him. He inched closer in reverence—only for her to kick him in the face, sending him flying against the walls of the chamber.

  "Did you just try to—"

  "No!" he shut her down before she could finish. "I wouldn’t… without permission."

  She sneered at him, then relaxed. "How pathetic."

  "Viktorian, for a plebeian as unremarkable as you, one like you doesn't often have enough karma points to choose where you will reincarnate, how you will reincarnate, and what you will reincarnate as."

  "Eh, karma points?"

  A screen flashed in his face.

  Karma: +42 Points

  Life Performance: Mediocre

  Your actions have neither greatly harmed nor significantly benefited the world. While you have left a mark, it is one of passing consequence.

  "Huh, that's gotta count for something, right?"

  The goddess shook her head. "Unfortunately, it counts for nothing around here. Maybe waiting in the waiting list will net you some extra karma."

  "Yeah, no, I'm not going to drift for three point five years."

  Suddenly, she grabbed him and threw him onto a bed. He landed with a bounce, blinking up at her in confusion. Before he could react, he instinctively grabbed a pillow, hugging it like a lifeline.

  "See, here's the thing: I am not really good at this goddess of reincarnation thing. I'm kinda new. And my bosses expect me to send at least one reincarnator today. The multiverse is huge, and I'm kinda lazy. To look for perfect candidates. So~"

  He didn’t need to think twice about it. This was it—his shot at another life.

  "Yes, I agree. Send me right away."

  "I haven't even laid out all the details, but if you're sure…"

  She chuckled, tilting her head.

  "Absolutely," he nodded. "You said I wouldn't get any cheat skills and stuff, so I guess just having a second chance will be alright."

  "Fufufu, if you are absolutely sure." She sat down on the bed beside him, an amused smirk on her lips. Viktorian tensed, not knowing what to expect.

  "Then come here," she said, beckoning.

  He reached forward without thinking.

  Just as he did, she placed a hand on his face and snapped her fingers.

  SPLIT.

  Reality cracked open, and in the last moment before everything blurred, he saw her smirking as space twisted around him.

  Then—wham. He was gone.

  The last words he heard from her sent chills down his spine.

  "You goddamn fool, you were so easy."

  He stirred. His body felt sluggish. He couldn't move properly. Was he still in the womb? No. There were other things stirring next to him—soft, shifting, jelly-like forms. A wet, squelching noise filled the air as he felt himself press against something slimy.

  His vision returned, and panic set in. Around him was a sea of slimes, clumping together like a living, pulsing mass. Then, a screen bombarded his vision.

  [System Notification]

  Name: Slime Baby (Level 1)

  Race: Slime

  Class: None

  HP: 20/20

  MP: 10/10

  Stamina: 15/15

  Strength: 2

  Dexterity: 4

  Constitution: 2

  Intelligence: 1

  Wisdom: 1

  Charisma: 2

  Skills:

  Adaptive Form – The slime can change shape slightly, making it harder to pin down or trap.

  Effect: +2 Dexterity when evading environmental hazards (such as being squashed or trapped).

  "Nooooo! I reincarnated as a slime. Not a human, not even a damn demon. That goddess… she tricked me."

  To be fair, he hadn't exactly listened to her. He'd been too caught up in the excitement of reincarnation.

  Now, regret settled in. He had been murdered by a ghost, then duped by a goddess, and now… this? In his past life, he had accomplished nothing of real worth. Now, he was stuck as a lowly monster. All those hours spent gaming, chasing short bursts of entertainment, and ignoring reality—none of it helped him now.

  "Shit!" he squelched.

  Hundreds of tiny slimes turned toward him, their round, glistening bodies shifting as they locked onto him.

  "Shiiiiiii~" they echoed in eerie unison.

  Oh no.

  Then they all started moving toward him.

  Great. He gets reincarnated, and the first thing he encounters is a smug goddess who dupes him. Now, his newfound slime brethren want to eat him.

  Why does life have to be like this?