Chapter 1

On New Year's Eve, I came across a high-stakes delivery order boasting a massive tip of nearly three thousand dollars.

Blinded by the incredible payout, I took the order without a second thought.

However, the moment I arrived at the destination, I was dragged into a horrific murder scene.

Panicked, I immediately dialed 911, but as the police investigation unfolded, every single piece of evidence pointed directly at me as the killer.

Surveillance footage showed that I was the only person who had entered the victim's room that night.

To make matters worse, tech experts confirmed that the footage showed zero signs of tampering, leaving me with no way to prove my innocence.

In the ensuing chaos, the victim's grief-stricken family stabbed me to death right there and then.

Even as my life faded away, I couldn't comprehend how a simple food delivery trip had turned me into a convicted murderer.

When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn back to the exact night I accepted that sky-high delivery order.

Chapter 1

"What are you standing around for? This is a huge payout. Hurry up and go!"

The cheap cigarette's smoke choked me, making me gag uncontrollably as my blurred vision gradually cleared up.

In front of me was a desk with peeling paint, overflowing with delivery receipts and ashtrays. Sitting behind it was a grease-slicked, heavy-set Dominic Flint, my dispatch manager, blowing clouds of smoke right at me.

In that split second, my heart seized violently, as if hit full force by a sledgehammer.

I wasn't dead?

My last memory was still stuck on that freezing New Year's Eve, being stabbed to death on the spot by the victim's family.

I hurriedly checked my phone for the time: December 31st, 2023, 9:30 p.m.

I was reborn! I had returned two and a half hours before the crime took place!

"Hurry up and change your clothes! Or do you not want to work here anymore?!"

Dominic’s impatient voice snapped me back to reality. He grabbed a pile of clothes next to him and threw them into my arms like trash.

The fabric felt cold and slick. It wasn't my familiar bright delivery windbreaker, but a midnight-black hoodie and cargo pants combo. The material was thick and radiated an indescribably creepy vibe.

"This customer had special instructions, super high-maintenance," Dominic exhaled a plume of smoke, tapping his nicotine-stained yellow finger against the order receipt on the desk.

"The courier has to wear this exact outfit. No company gear allowed. Said it was for… some ritual. And..."

He paused, his eyes narrowing. "You must knock on the door and deliver it at midnight sharp. Not a minute early, not a minute late. Got it?"

Those words hit me like a bolt of lightning, shattering my freshly reassembled consciousness.

It was identical.

Even Dominic's tone and the way he hurled those clothes were the same as in my past.

In my previous life, all because I chased that massive delivery fee, I foolishly threw on those black clothes and knocked on that door from hell right at midnight.

The door was unlocked and slightly ajar. The moment I pushed it open, the warm stench of rust and metallic blood hit my face. I reflexively peeked inside, only to see a woman in a red dress brutally murdered on the bed.

Panicked, I called 911, but I ended up taking the fall as the killer instead.

The interrogation, the jail cell, the sheer hopelessness that followed spun wildly through my head like a nightmare on loop.

Before I even had a chance to explain, the victim's family stabbed me to death right then and there.

Overcome by sheer terror, my hands instinctively shook, and I tossed the dark outfit right back onto the desk like a hot iron.

"I'm not taking it!"

My voice trembled, raspy and strained from peak tension. "This order is twisted! I'm not going! Find someone else!"

Dominic froze for a second before his face instantly darkened. He slammed his hand on the desk so hard that the cigarette butts jumped in the ashtray.

"Elliot, what the hell are you losing your mind over?!"

He stood up and pointed a finger right at my nose, roaring, "It’s New Year's Eve! Most couriers are home with their families, and there's only you and Jackson left at the station.

"Jackson just broke his leg and went to the ER, so who else is gonna deliver it if not you?!"

"The customer wrote in the notes that if we cancel or are late, we owe a hundred-thousand-dollar penalty fee! A hundred grand! I couldn't even sell you for that much!"

I gritted my teeth tightly and took a step back. "The penalty is your problem, but I'm not going! There's something wrong with this order!"

Chapter 2

Seeing my firm stance, Dominic’s eyes darted back and forth as he realized hard tactics wouldn't work. Taking a deep breath, he switched to a warm, well-meaning expression, lit a fresh cigarette, and offered it to me.

"Elliot, look, I get that this request is weird. But rich folks nowadays all have their bizarre quirks. Maybe they're into cosplay or whatever."

He lowered his voice, sweetening the deal. "But the money is real. The customer already transferred a grand as a tip. I'll throw in another thousand out of my pocket, plus there's a two-grand balance on delivery. That's four grand total for one trip!

"That's more than you make in days of regular shifts, so what else could you possibly want?"

Four thousand dollars to me, right now, was a massive fortune.

However, I knew all too well that this four grand was blood money to buy my life!

"I'm not—"

Just as I was about to refuse completely, quit on the spot, and walk out, the phone in my pocket vibrated frantically.

The name "Harper" flashed across the screen.

My heart skipped a beat. Harper was my girlfriend, and the person I had fought with everything to protect in my past life.

The moment I answered, Harper's terrified, tear-choked voice came through the speaker. "Elliot... Elliot, where are you? Sob..."

"What's wrong? Don't cry, tell me what happened," my chest tightened instantly.

"Those loan sharks are back... They're right outside the door, smashing it with an axe! They said... they said if we don't hand over that fifty grand tonight, they're going to spray paint the walls and drag me away to settle the debt...

"I'm so scared, the door is about to break... Elliot, when are you coming back?"

Over the line came the violent bang of heavy blows against the door, accompanied by a man's crude shouting.

"Pay your debts! Open the damn door, or I'll end you both!"

The horror of my past life collided with the immediate threat of the present, tightening around my neck like a noose.

In order to help Harper pay off this high-interest loan she had co-signed for her brother, I took on orders like crazy, which ultimately led me to accept that fatal delivery in my previous life.

If I didn't go, Harper might be in grave danger tonight. But if I did, I would step right back into that meticulously planned trap.

Watching the visible struggle on my face, Dominic seized on my hesitation and pressed harder.

"Elliot, a real man steps up when it counts. Isn't your girlfriend desperately in need of cash? This single trip pays four grand. Sure, it won't cover the big debt, but at least you can buy some time to appease those thugs, right?

"If you refuse to go, I'll have to deduct that hundred-thousand-dollar penalty directly from your earnings. You won't see a single cent of your year-end bonus or the last few months of your paycheck!"

It was a blatant threat.

My knuckles turned white as I clutched the phone, my fingernails digging so deep into my palms that the sharp pain kept me tethered to reality.

For the money, and for Harper, it seemed I truly had no choice.

Taking a deep breath, I hung up the phone and gritted my teeth as I picked the black outfit back up.

"Fine. I'll deliver it."

I raised my head, a cold, ruthless glint in my eyes that Dominic couldn't quite comprehend. "Transfer the money to me right now. I need to send it to Harper for the emergency."

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Dominic beamed with satisfaction, instantly pulling out his phone to process the transfer. "Young man, never turn your back on cash."

The moment the money hit my account, I forwarded it straight to Harper without a second thought, telling her to find a safe place to hide first.

Just as I finished changing into the black hoodie, pulling the hood low to cover most of my face, an unknown caller ID popped up on my screen.

When I picked up, a cold, voice-altered voice that sounded like a venomous snake rasped through the speaker. "Why haven't you left yet?"

It was impossible to tell if the voice belonged to a man or a woman, but it radiated a bone-chilling coldness.

I glanced at the wall clock. It was only 10 p.m.

The delivery address was at the Sunshine Resort, located in the suburbs. It was the most high-end yet isolated resort area in the city, and reaching it on my bike would take an hour at most.

That left a one-hour gap in between. If the absolute rule was to deliver at midnight sharp, why was this caller so anxious to rush me out the door right now?

What did they want me to do during that time? Or were they afraid I'd change my mind?

"What's the rush?" I replied coldly. "I'll definitely be there before midnight."

Hanging up the call, I grabbed the heavy delivery bag and stepped out into the vast darkness of the night.

Chapter 3

The streets were deserted and bleak, lit only by the dim yellow glow of streetlights. Inside my head, thoughts spun in utter chaos.

The freezing wind poured down my collar like sharp knives. Even though the black hoodie was thick, it did nothing to block the chilling dread creeping through my chest.

I sped along on my electric bike, tearing down the road toward the suburbs as fast as the engine would take me.

There were still nearly two hours left until midnight.

That creepy, strict time requirement kept circling endlessly in my head.

In my past life, I had arrived right at midnight. Back then, the victim was already dead, though her blood was still warm.

If the customer insisted on a midnight delivery, did that mean the actual time of death was supposed to happen somewhere between 11 p.m. and midnight?

The killer needed that specific window to commit the crime, so that I, the perfect scapegoat, could show up right on the dot at midnight to become the ideal eyewitness and prime suspect.

What if I arrived early, then?

If I got there by 11 p.m., could I disrupt the murderer's schedule, catch them in the act, or even stop this whole tragedy from happening?

The moment the thought crossed my mind, I slammed on the brakes. The tires let out an ear-splitting screech against the asphalt.

I couldn't let history repeat itself.

I had to take control of the situation.

Pulling out my phone, my fingers trembled violently as I dialed 911.

"Hello, 911? I need to report a crime! Someone is about to commit a murder in Room 206 at the Sunshine Resort! Please get there fast! I'm... I'm just a passerby, but I overheard someone planning it on a phone call, saying they were gonna kill that woman!"

My voice sounded slightly warped from sheer panic, but that only ended up making it sound all the more believable.

Hanging up the phone, I steeled my resolve, twisted the throttle all the way down, and pushed the speed to its absolute limit.

The electric bike shot down the silent highway, engine whining at full blast.

Just five minutes past eleven, I pulled up to the main entrance of Sunshine Resort.

Sunshine Resort stood isolated halfway up the hillside, brightly lit yet enveloped in an eerie, dead silence.

I parked the bike, grabbed the delivery bag, took a deep breath, and stepped straight into the lobby.

However, I didn't dare go straight upstairs.

My past life had taught me that Room 206 was nothing but a fatal trap. The second I set foot in there, that murder charge was going to stick to me, no matter whether the victim was dead or alive.

The lobby was dead quiet, with only the front desk illuminated.

A skinny desk clerk in a black uniform and face mask was leaning down, scrolling through his phone. Hearing my footsteps, he raised his head, revealing a pale, gaunt face.

He wore a dark-framed mask, and his eyes held a gloomy look. Seeing my all-black attire, he seemed to freeze for a moment.

In a flash of inspiration, I strode over, pulled a fresh hundred-dollar bill out of my pocket, and placed it on the counter right alongside the takeout bag.

"Hey man, I need a quick favor."

I lowered my voice, trying my best to act natural, though letting a bit of panic slip through.

"This is a delivery for Room 206. I have an urgent emergency and need to run, so could you please take it up for me?

"Just tell them the delivery guy handed it off to you. Here's a hundred bucks for the trouble. We're both out here grinding on New Year's Eve while everyone else is out partying, right?"

We're both just trying to make a living tonight.

The clerk stared at the hundred-dollar bill for a solid two seconds, then looked back up at me.

"Room 206?" his voice was quiet and raspy.

"Yeah, 206," I confirmed with a nod.

Without asking any further questions, he picked up the cash, shoved it into his pocket, grabbed the takeout bag, walked around the counter, and headed straight for the elevator.

His silhouette was extremely thin, and his footsteps made no sound as he walked, moving almost like a ghost.

Watching the floor indicator jump from "1" to "2" and finally stop, I let out a massive sigh of relief.

As long as I didn't show up in front of that door and step foot inside the crime scene, that trap could never catch me.

Quickly pulling out my phone, I tapped "Delivered".

Yet, the exact instant I hit confirm, that cold customer number called me again.

This time, the voice-altered voice was no longer calm and icy. It erupted into a roaring, violent fury, "Are you trying to get yourself killed?! Who told you to mark it as delivered? It's only 11:10 p.m.!"

Chapter 4

I recoiled in shock, but forced myself to stay calm. "I already dropped it off at the front desk. The clerk is bringing it up to you right now."

"Bullsh*t!"

The voice on the line sounded ready to explode. "I haven't received a damn thing! And you didn't even follow the rules by wearing that black outfit and coming up here yourself!

"I'm filing a complaint against you right now! Just wait until you get stuck paying that hundred-thousand-dollar penalty fee, you scammer!"

"Beep... beep…" The call cut off.

I stood frozen in the center of the lobby, completely dumbfounded, as an ice-cold panic shot straight from my feet up to my spine.

The front desk guy had literally just gone upstairs, and the elevator had stopped on the second floor. How could they not have received it?

And more importantly... how did the caller know I hadn't gone up myself?

Did they have a security camera on the door? Or was the customer watching me from inside the lobby?

Instinctively, I scanned my surroundings. The vast lobby was completely empty, with no one else in sight except for me.

That feeling of being watched made my skin crawl, as if countless ants were marching up my spine.

Having learned my painful lesson in my previous life, I didn't dare go upstairs to check, even under the threat of that massive fine.

That hundred grand penalty was a nightmare, sure, but it was still a hell of a lot better than dying.

Right on cue, Dominic's phone call slammed in like a death warrant.

"Elliot! What the hell are you doing?! The customer is blowing up the station's phone lines! They filed a direct complaint to corporate, claiming you did a fake delivery and had a terrible attitude!

"Get your ass back up there and fix this right now! You're paying that fine, no matter what!"

I faked a vague response. "Dominic, something isn't right here. I called 911, and the cops are coming."

"You called the cops?! Why the hell would you call the cops? Have you lost your damn mind?!" Dominic screamed in a frenzy on the other end.

I hung up on him immediately because the wail of sirens was already echoing in the distance.

Flashing lights sliced through the darkness as three police cruisers pulled up, rapidly surrounding the resort entrance.

Several fully armed officers rushed inside, led by a sharp-eyed, middle-aged detective.

"Who called 911?"

"I did!" I raised my hand and hurried forward. "Officer, I reported a potential murder happening in Room 206!"

The detective sized me up from head to toe, frowning slightly at my bizarre, all-black clothing. Still, he didn't question it further and just waved his hand. "Lead the way! Let's go check it out!"

A few officers escorted me straight up to the second floor.

When the elevator doors slid open, the carpeted hallway greeted us with a suffocating silence that made my pulse spike.

We arrived right in front of Room 206.

I held my breath, my heart hammering viciously against my ribs. In my past life, this exact spot was the gateway to hell.

The lead detective knocked firmly on the door. "Police! Open up!"

Inside, it went silent for a few seconds before a man's impatient voice called out, "Who is it? It's the middle of the night!"

The door swung open.

A heavyset, middle-aged guy in a bathrobe glared at us, his face twisted in annoyance. The room behind him was brightly lit, clean, and organized, with a TV broadcasting a live New Year's countdown special.

There was no blood, nor was there a corpse.

Seeing a group of police officers standing at his door, the man blinked in confusion. "What's going on here? Is this some kind of raid?"

I stood completely frozen on the spot, my mind buzzing with deafening static.

How was this even possible?

In my past life, it was without a doubt right here that a woman in a red dress had been brutally murdered!