Chapter 1

I find myself standing at the same intersection again after I die in a car accident.

I assume that I've been given a second chance at life. However, when I notice the number "4" on my arm, I realize that things aren't as simple as they seem.

I die for the first time when Dad is rushing me to go home. I'm swallowed by the shadow of a truck amid the screeching sounds of a brake.

In the next second, my phone rings again. Dad's familiar voice echoes from the receiver, "When are you coming back to do the chores, Luke? I'm old and weak, while Miles is too young. Do you think that we can do the chores?"

My mind goes blank just as the truck barrels toward me again. I instinctively roll forward and barely avoid getting run over by the wheels of the truck, feeling relieved that I have escaped death this time.

However, after I return home, Dad kicks me out of the house because I get into an argument with my brother, Miles Dover.

Unfortunately, I bump into a killer in the stairwell. My blood splatters all across the scene.

When I jolt awake once more, I see the familiar truck again. The number on my arm has gone down from "4" to "3".

A chill runs down my spine. It turns out that I haven't been given a second chance at life. Instead, I'm stuck in a cycle!

If I'm unable to break out of the cycle, I'll never wake up again once the number on my arm reaches zero.

Chapter 1

I hadn't hung up on Dad yet and could hear him shouting on the other end of the line.

"I'm giving you three minutes to get back home, Luke Dover!"

My eyes widened as I threw myself to the left, acting on pure muscle memory.

The truck rammed into the barricade with a loud bang. The driver was unconscious, though I couldn't be sure if he had passed out from the alcohol or from the impact of the crash.

I left him alone as my heart hammered rapidly against my chest. The pain from being stabbed to death by the killer during the last cycle hadn't faded yet. I hesitated, wondering if I should go home.

Just then, my phone rang again.

"Do you have a death wish, Luke? It's been three minutes. Why are you just standing in a daze on the street?"

I looked up and saw Dad standing across the street. His phone was raised to his ear as he continued to berate me. "Get over here right now! Why didn't that truck crash into you and kill you? He's just dragging things out."

My chest tightened. He had watched me nearly get run over by the truck. My voice was shaking when I asked, "Why aren't you worried, Dad?"

"Why aren't you worried about me getting into an accident? Why aren't you worried about me dying?" I asked him in my mind.

Dad seemed to immediately understand the underlying meaning behind my question. An eerie smile stretched across his lips as he said, "I'm worried. I'm worried that no one will earn money for me after you're dead. There won't be anyone to take care of your brother either."

I felt as if something had shattered within me.

In my daze, an immense pain lanced through my ear. Dad had crossed the street when I was distracted and was now standing next to me. He twisted my ear with all his might, dragging me along as he continued to berate me.

"If you ask me, you studied too much. That's why you're always thinking about nonsensical things and acting like a lunatic. No one has cleaned the house or given us money. You rarely get a day off. You should have used your time wisely to take care of us.

"Did you do any odd jobs this month? Give your money to me now. I don't even have enough money for my card games."

Dad didn't ask me about what happened or why I was afraid to go home. Instead, he just forcefully dragged me along.

My body traitorously trailed after him. I couldn't be sure if there was something wrong with my mind or my body, but I didn't even think about retaliating.

…

I slumped bonelessly on the couch after cleaning every nook and cranny in the apartment. I felt extremely tense as I stared at the clock on the wall.

It was 11:49 pm. There was only a minute left before I would get kicked out of the house for playing with my brother Miles Dover's tablet and run into the killer.

I stared unblinkingly at the tablet in Miles' hand and only sighed in relief when he locked it and stashed it in the drawer after he got bored of it.

I didn't take his favorite thing, so he wouldn't burst into tears like last time. Thus, Dad also wouldn't kick me out of the house while I was only wearing a pair of pajama bottoms.

However, in the next second, the burning red tip of a cigarette was pressed into the crown of my head. There was a sizzling sound as the cigarette burned my skin, causing a scorched scent to waft from my head.

I gritted my teeth in pain. "Why did you do that, Dad?" I demanded.

Dad stood there with a fierce expression. He was still holding the cigarette. "You kept staring at Miles when he was playing with his tablet. Why did you want to play it so much? Were you an animal in your last life? You're always like this. You just love to steal Miles' favorite things!"

He got more and more emotional as he berated me. He then shoved me to the floor and began dragging me toward the door.

Miles clapped and cheered on the side. "Bad Luke! You just love stealing my things. How shameless."

However, I had never stolen any of his belongings. On the contrary, Miles constantly bullied me without fear of retribution because he knew that Dad favored him.

The clock would strike midnight soon. The killer was about to reach our floor. I had no choice but to plead with Dad.

"I didn't do it, Dad. Don't kick me out. There's a killer out there. He's going to stab me to death."

Dad's face turned a ruddy red as he continued to scold me, "Maybe he should stab you to death, you damned jinx! Get out of my house."

I caught a glimpse of a man with a hunchback and a knife exiting the stairwell during our scuffle. It was him—the man who killed me during the last cycle.

Chapter 2

I didn't have any weapons that I could defend myself with. I wasn't even wearing a shirt. I didn't care about convincing Dad that I didn't do anything wrong anymore as I clutched his sleeve and frantically pleaded with him.

"I've learned my lesson, Dad! It's all my fault. Please don't kick me out. I haven't finished doing the chores yet! Let me in now. The killer's here!"

Dad wanted to take advantage of the situation and demand that I get on my knees and apologize. However, when he looked up, he saw the killer rushing in our direction with his knife raised.

He forgot to close the door in his panic. He grabbed Miles and rushed into the bedroom, locking the door behind him. "Run, Miles! There's a crazy killer!"

The man was nearly upon me by the time I scrambled up from the floor. He was mentally ill, getting the urge to kill anyone he laid eyes on. I shoved him away with all my might and tried to slam the door shut.

A hand shot into the gap between the door and the doorframe. A few seconds later, a tremendous force collided against the door.

I was weaker than him no matter how I struggled. The killer pressed his face into the gap. He let out an eerie giggle before saying, "I love it when they struggle. You can't escape."

He managed to force his way through the gap the moment the words left his lips.

I frantically backed away, trying to find something that I could use as a temporary weapon. However, there was no such thing in sight. Only then did I recall that Dad had hidden all the sharp objects in the house because he was worried that Miles might accidentally hurt himself with them.

With no other option left to me, I snatched up the ashtray and smashed it against the killer's head. However, the manic glint in his eyes seemed to intensify after being attacked. He let out a sinister laugh as he licked the blood on his face, saying, "Delicious. But it'll taste even better with your blood mixed in."

The killer lunged at me, forcing me to back up against the bedroom door.

Dad and Miles were inside. I desperately wished that they would open the door for me. I banged against the door with all my might and shouted at the top of my lungs, "I'm begging you, Dad! Please open the door! There's a baseball bat in the room. You can just give it to me.

"I'm really going to die. What are you going to do if that happens?"

The killer sliced a huge gash on my arm, causing blood to spurt out in an endless stream. He was standing right before me.

I hissed in pain and began shouting even more frantically. "Please save me, Dad! I'm begging you! I'm your son too. He just cut me. It hurts so much."

However, there was only silence on the other side of the door, as if the people inside were terrified that the killer would know that they were there.

The killer sliced me over and over again, leaving 108 cuts on me. He only left with a satisfied expression after reducing me to a bloody pulp.

The tightly closed door finally creaked open just as my consciousness was about to fade.

Dad hugged Miles as they looked at my corpse. He repeatedly patted Miles' shoulder as he said in a relieved tone, "Thank goodness we didn't open the door. We would have ended up like your brother if we did.

"Don't blame me for being cruel, Luke. I would make the same decision if I was put in the same situation again. You died because we didn't open the door, but all three of us would have died if we did open the door.

"Both you and Miles are my sons—my flesh and blood. How could I have wanted you to die? Rest in peace. I'll arrange your funeral for you."

Truth be told, Dad was right. Humans would choose the option that benefited themselves the most in the face of danger. But I had still hoped that they would open the door for me. After all, being stabbed to death was so painful.

Chapter 3

I was once again standing at the intersection with my phone pressed against my ear when I regained consciousness. The number on my arm had gone down to "2".

I still had a chance. I would live as long as I managed to escape the cycle of death. I tried my best to calm my breathing as I smoothly dodged out of the way of the drunk driver. I then hung up on Dad.

I wouldn't go home this time. I wouldn't run into the killer as long as I didn't go home. Worried that Dad would suddenly appear again, I hastily changed directions and sprinted toward my rented apartment.

I didn't know how long I ran for. I bonelessly slumped down on the floor and heaved for breath when I finally stepped into my familiar apartment.

It was 11:00 pm. There was no danger here.

Just then, my phone rang again. Instead of rejecting it, I picked up the call this time.

As expected, Dad's furious shouts came from the other end of the line.

"Where the hell are you, Luke?" he demanded. "You said you were going to come home to do the chores! Don't you dare hang up on me again. I'll take Miles with me and look for you at your company if you do!"

I believed him. He was truly capable of such a thing. To avoid any unnecessary trouble, I had no choice but to lie to him that I was sick.

"I suddenly felt really weak right after leaving the apartment. I'm at the hospital now. Oh, that's right, Dad. I don't have enough money to pay the medical fee. Can you drop by the hospital and settle it for me?"

I had intentionally told him that to scare him. He loved money more than anything else. Ever since I graduated, they used my money as if it belonged to them while never giving me a single cent.

As expected, Dad's fury swiftly dissipated on the other end of the line. "About that… Miles is hungry. I need to prepare some food for him. You're a grown man who earns his own paycheck every month. How shameless do you have to be to ask me for money?

"You should ask your colleagues instead if you want to borrow money. I don't have a single cent on me. Don't forget to give some to me if you managed to convince someone to lend you some money. I need it for my card games."

I only kept 1,000 dollars from my monthly salary for myself, giving the rest to him. It was blatantly obvious that he just didn't want to part with the money.

Dad was just about to hang up when I couldn't help myself and blurted out, "Don't leave the house after midnight. I heard that there's a killer roaming around in that area."

I had no idea if the killer was going to show up there this time. However, if he did appear, and I wasn't there to protect them, Miles and Dad could be in danger.

"Fine. Get well as soon as possible. You can only earn money when you're not sick. I'm hanging up now."

A wave of exhaustion washed over me after I hung up. I lay on the bed, wanting nothing more than to have a good night's rest.

I didn't know how much time had passed. I was sound asleep when a burst of pain suddenly lanced up my leg. A chill ran down my spine when I peeled my eyes open.

The killer was standing at the end of my bed. The door that I had locked earlier was open.

Pain shot up my leg again when I was still in a daze. The killer had stabbed another hole into my leg.

"Die!" I screamed.

Pain and fury made my adrenaline surge. I leaped up from my bed and grabbed the nearby barbell that I used when I worked out, swinging it at the killer's lower half. The barbell smashed against his knee, causing him to crumple to the floor.

Seizing the opportunity, I smashed the barbell against the top of his head with all my might several times until he was completely unconscious.

My strength fled me after the danger had passed. The barbell clattered to the floor. My bleeding leg gave out, unable to support my weight anymore, sending me staggering to the floor.

However, the killer was still right next to me. I didn't dare let my guard down as I crawled to my bed and grabbed my phone to call the police.

The call rang for a short moment before it connected.

"Hello. This is the police station."

"Hello, I'm calling from Harrington Street in Cloudvale. Unit number 39 on the fourth floor. There's a—"

I let out a loud shriek before I could finish my sentence. The killer had regained consciousness and sliced my throat open in one swift movement.

"Hello, sir? Are you still there?"

Blood gurgled in my throat when I tried to answer. I only lost consciousness after the excruciating pain faded away. The time on my phone was 12:00 am. I had failed to escape death again.

But why did the killer appear in my apartment? Wasn't he supposed to be in Dad's area? Could it be that he would always appear wherever I went?

"You're still not back yet, Luke—"

Chapter 4

I hung up on Dad without hesitation when I heard his nagging again. I glanced at my arm. The number had gone down to "1".

I would only have one last chance if I died again this time. I had to find out why I died during the last cycle. Could it be that I was the one who triggered the killer's appearance?

To test out my theory, I dropped by the store and bought a stun gun to defend myself. I then hid in the ceiling of my apartment. I rejected the call when my phone rang again, switching it to silent mode. This time, I felt like a professional hunter as I lay in wait for my prey.

The lock turned at 11:30 pm. I was shocked that whoever it was wasn't breaking into the apartment. Instead, they were unlocking the door with a key. The only person who had a key to my apartment was Dad.

As expected, Dad was the one who stepped across the threshold. He kept muttering under his breath as his eyes darted around the apartment.

"Where is he? I thought he said he was sick. I would have fallen for his lie if Keith didn't tell me that he saw him running back to his apartment. He probably wants to slack off. That's why he lied and came back to the apartment—to get away from chores for us."

Dad failed to find me even after searching every nook and cranny in the apartment. But he didn't leave immediately. Instead, he padded over to where I left my bags.

"He must be fooling around somewhere. He didn't give me any money even though it's been ten days. How dare he leave Miles and me to suffer while he's enjoying himself outside?"

He started rummaging through all my bags, turning all of them inside out. After pilfering all my money, he strode over to the walk-in closet and stole the gold necklace that my ex-girlfriend bought for me.

"How dare he keep such a treasure for himself instead of giving it to me to show his gratitude? He wouldn't know how to appreciate it anyway."

He gave himself a onceover before leaving the apartment with a pleased expression. However, he didn't close the door behind him.

So, that was how the killer entered my apartment last time. Dad had left the door wide open.

It was 11:40 pm, but the killer hadn't appeared yet. Just then, I heard Dad's scream coming from the stairwell.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Don't kill me! I don't have any money!"

He probably ran into the killer in the stairwell.

Dad's screaming disrupted my plans. I climbed down from the ceiling and carefully inched toward the stairwell.

The masked killer had Dad pinned under him. He raised his knife, looking as if he was going to stab him in the next second.

I sprinted down the stairs, swiftly closing the distance. After aiming the stun gun at the killer's body, I took my shot.

The killer went limp as the electrical current surged through his body. His knife also clattered to the floor.

"Hurry and pick up the knife, Dad!" I shouted.

I urged him to follow my orders as I continued aiming the stun gun at the killer nervously. I didn't dare let my guard down just yet.

However, Dad seemed to forget all about how there was a killer right next to him when he spotted me and immediately began berating me.

"You brat! I searched your apartment for so long, but I couldn't find you. Were you intentionally hiding from me? Why did you only show yourself after I was nearly killed? Where's your conscience?"

He kicked the knife that was lying next to his feet. Instead of picking it up, he lunged at me and snatched the stun gun out of my hands.

"I'll hold on to this. You pick up the knife!"

Dad clutched the stun gun in a death grip. I couldn't pry it out of his hands, so I had no choice but to head downstairs to pick up the knife.

Unfortunately, Dad had kicked the knife right next to the killer's hand. I held my breath as I bent down to pick it up. However, a powerful force suddenly wrapped itself around my wrist.

The killer had regained consciousness, and he had managed to retrieve his knife. I turned to look at Dad, who looked scared out of his mind, just as the killer was about to stab me.

"Shoot him now!" I screamed.

The killer looked at Dad too. Dad's eyes flashed for a split second before he hastily ran away while still holding the gun.

"Don't kill me!" he shouted. "I wasn't the one who stunned you! I'm not the one you're after. I still have a son to raise!"

I died again when the knife plunged into my chest. The last thing I saw was Dad's back as he frantically ran away.

Once… Twice… Thrice…

I had figured out the secret of the cycle of death.