Chapter 1: Waking in Another World

Omo, as all of us waka from death land, nobody fit talk. We just dey look each other with mouth wide open like people wey see masquerade for afternoon.

System prompt:

[The male lead’s first love get beauty mark for back of her neck.]

The class beauty just dey shine with pride. She flash her white teeth, chin up like say dem dey judge am for Most Beautiful Girl in Nigeria. Her eyes dey sparkle, face dey glow, as if she don already win jackpot. She even shift her gele with style, the kind Lagos big girls sabi.

That day, she sneak enter big men’s lounge, shock everybody with her dance, then bend her neck gently for the male lead to see the beauty mark.

For the lounge, the smell of suya dey everywhere, calabash cups dey clink, elders dey hail am with ‘E kaabo’ and ‘Ina kwana’. She no send, she just lower her neck for the young chief’s son, make sure say the beauty mark show well-well, like say she dey present hot jollof to visitor.

The young chief’s son happy, clap hand, carry her straight to the chief’s residence that night. His laughter loud like festival drumbeat. People for lounge dey look dem with respect. "Ah, Oga Chief no dey slack!" some whisper. Before we fit talk, he don wave hand, she waka follow am disappear into the chief compound.

All of us dey look, envy dey show for face. "Now the raid bonus go the class beauty," person yan. One boy, eyes red with jealousy, mutter, "Wetin person dey find again? Na she get am now. Na so better dey carry people wey fine." Some girls squeeze face like ugwu leaf.

Another girl hug herself, sigh, "Wuwu, I also wan fall in love with fine, powerful man from olden days." She hug herself like cold dey catch am. "Na only for film all this romance dey happen for us. Omo, I wan try too na! Make dem see say I sabi run package."

But the next day, the class beauty die violent death. E shock everybody like thunder wey strike for dry season. All her boasting, all the pride – phew! – e vanish for air. That kind sudden bad news, na only village people fit explain.

Yet, for chief’s residence, dem place lifelike beauty vase. Word spread fast, like fire for harmattan. Palace people dey gossip in low voice, "Ehn? That new fine girl, you hear wetin happen?" The beauty vase dey shine with sad glory, nobody wan near am.

Inside the vase, her arms and legs chopped off, blood and tears run down her face, and the beauty mark for her neck don gouge out. Flies dey buzz, her face dey look people with eyes wide, spirit no rest. Blood mark remain for ground, the beauty mark na just ugly scar. E pain reach bone.

At the same time, the system’s prompt sound:

[All strategy players, life countdown don begin. Please start your raid as soon as possible.]

Everybody stiff. Even people wey think say dem strong, mouth dry like garri wey no see water.