In a dimly lit room, a young man crouched beneath a table, breath shallow, hands clenched tightly around his knees as he fought to stay calm. Just a few feet away, a delivery man stood unnaturally still, vacant eyes flicking around as if tracking something invisible. His body twitched with stiff, jerky movements—almost puppet-like.
Suddenly, a phone rang in another room. The shrill sound shattered the tense silence.
The delivery man's head snapped toward the noise. Without hesitation, he bolted after it.
Seizing the moment, the young man sprang from his hiding place. In one fluid motion, he yanked a bedsheet from the nearby couch, flung it over the delivery man's head, and tackled him to the ground. The figure thrashed violently, but the young man gritted his teeth, pinning him down until the body finally went limp.
After securing the man with whatever he could find—an extension cord, shoelaces, duct tape—he slumped against the wall, exhaling a long, dramatic sigh.
"Finally. Finally, something happened," he muttered, eyes wild with a blend of panic and bizarre excitement. "Two freaking years since I transmigrated into this world—and now, finally, something weird happens! I thought I landed in a fantasy world, like those web novels I used to binge... but no. Just plain, boring reality. No magic. No dungeons. No system. No hot elves. Not even a cursed spoon. Just... mundane slice-of-life hell."
He rubbed his face with both hands. "And don't even get me started on the rich dad and two sisters. Dad's always abroad—probably too busy hoarding money—and the sisters? Cold as frozen yogurt. I'm pretty sure they'd throw a party if I tripped down the stairs. Adoption bonus: emotional baggage, free of charge."
Scoffing, he threw his head back against the wall. "At first, it was hype city. New body? Check. Mysterious death? Check. Pale as a ghost and a ritual circle on my left hand? Double check. But of course, the cool magic stuff had to vanish before I could even sneeze."
He gestured vaguely at the unconscious figure. A slow, wicked grin tugged at his lips.
"But now? Now, things are finally getting interesting."
As he drifted into thought, his phone rang again. He glanced at the screen—Lin Feng, his old gaming buddy.
"Zhao Rui! Where the hell are you? You won't believe what I just saw. Zombies, man! Real zombies! They're everywhere!"
"I know," Zhao Rui said dryly, glancing at the unconscious body. "One just attacked me. Knocked it out."
Silence crackled over the line. Then Lin Feng's voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible.
"Holy crap... you're serious? I thought I was losing it. My neighbor smashed through his window and started biting people. I ran like hell."
Zhao Rui stood up slowly, wiping his palms on his jeans. "Yeah. It's real. And if there's one here and one near you... it's spreading fast."
"Dude," Lin Feng gasped. "What do we do?! This isn't a game—no respawns, no inventory, no safe zone—"
Zhao Rui's gaze dropped to his left hand, squinting. The faint lines of the ritual circle shimmered, ever so slightly, like a half-forgotten dream.
"Maybe... not yet," he murmured.
"I'm heading to the university's underground parking lot," Lin Feng said, voice shaking. "It's got cameras, heavy doors... safer than my place. You coming?"
Zhao Rui didn't answer immediately. His eyes were locked on his palm, where the mark glowed faintly under the skin.
"I'll head there soon," he said finally. "Keep your head down. Don't trust anyone acting even slightly weird."
"Got it. And Zhao...?" Lin Feng hesitated. "You think this is it? Like... end of the world?"
Zhao Rui moved to the window. In the distance, smoke coiled into the twilight sky. Sirens screamed. Somewhere nearby, an inhuman wail ripped through the streets.
"Yeah," he said softly. "Feels like the tutorial justended."
He hung up.
The low, guttural growl from behind him froze him mid-motion.
The delivery man—no, the zombie—was back on his feet.
This time, his eyes weren't confused. They were filled with pure, mindless hunger.
The body jerked unnaturally as the zombie fought against the restraints. Zhao Rui hadn't tied him securely enough—the delivery man's stiff limbs cracked with a disturbing sound as the cords snapped. With a violent, desperate twist of his torso, the zombie broke free of the makeshift bindings, his hands clawing at the air like a predator.
The growl built into a snarl. Zhao Rui spun just in time to see the creature lurch toward him, teeth snapping.
"Oh, come on!" Zhao Rui yelped, grabbing the nearest weapon he could find—his prized, limited-edition gaming chair. With a grunt, he hurled it like a professional wrestler throwing a folding chair.
It smashed into the zombie with a hollow thunk... and promptly shattered into pieces.
Zhao Rui stared in horror. Only one lonely chair leg rolled across the floor toward him.
"Fantastic," he muttered, snatching up the leg like a sword and backing toward the door. The zombie stumbled after him, relentless.
"Nope, nope, nope!"
Zhao Rui bolted from the room, pounding down the stairs. The snarling creature chased after him, close enough that he could practically taste its rancid breath.
He hit the lower floor and skidded into the kitchen, frantically scanning for a better weapon.
Knife? Too small. Skillet? Too slow. Frying pan—
His eyes locked onto a cast-iron frying pan hanging from a hook.
"Perfect."
He ripped it down just as the zombie crashed through the doorway. With a battle cry that sounded suspiciously like a scream, Zhao Rui swung the pan.
CLANG!
The zombie reeled but stayed upright.
"Are you serious?!" Zhao Rui bellowed, swinging again.
CLANG! CLANG!
On the third strike, the pan connected squarely with its temple. The zombie twitched—and collapsed with a satisfying thud.
Panting, Zhao Rui dropped the pan onto the counter, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Then—
Ding!
A soft chime echoed in his head.
Zhao Rui straightened, heart pounding. "Finally! System! Cheat powers! Plot armor! Let's gooo—"
Nothing happened.
He blinked. Looked around. Patted himself down.
Still nothing.
"...Huh?"
Minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen.
Just when he was about to call it a false alarm, a faint shimmer opened inside his vision—like a translucent app flickering into existence.
A floating screen appeared before him.
Empty. No words. No icons. No stats.
Just blank transparency.
Zhao Rui stared at it.
"You've got to be kidding me."
(A/N : Thanks for checking out Chapter 1 of Transmigrated with a useles System
I'm still new to writing and chapters may come out a bit slowly-but I'm committed to telling my story at my own pace. If you enjoyed the ride so far, feel free to stick around.
Things are just getting started.)