Quick Transmigration: Let Me Tell You, I'm a Social Anxiety Person

In the year 4065 of the Star Calendar, late autumn.

With a loud bang, the crimson mech on the arena collapsed.

The outcome was already decided. The contestant piloting the mecha looked grim and slowly looked up. The tall mecha still stood in the center of the arena, its metal frame reflecting a cold luster under the light.

The contestant gripped the control stick tightly, trying to get the battered mech back to its feet.

The audience was filled with sighs and murmurs.

"What's the point of continuing the competition? Let's just get off here!"

"Everyone knows that ARES's new contestant has been undefeated since his debut. There are always a few cannon fodder who don't believe in this, waving the banner of challenge, but in the end, they just add icing on the cake for others."

"That makes it 39 consecutive wins, right? Just who is that player? Judging from his mech, it seems to be just a regular model provided by the arena..."

Amidst the uproar, the mech opposite seemed unaffected, standing quietly in place.

Just like the pilot of that mecha, all you can see through the cockpit is a pair of calm, expressionless eyes.

There seemed to be no emotion in those eyes, no contempt, no pity, only a waiting for time to pass.

The countdown to the match has not yet ended.

The contestant took a deep breath, piloted his mech, and charged towards the other side once again.

The results are obvious.

He lost, even though his opponent had shown mercy, allowing him to escape from the nearly shattered mech and avoid being crushed into a pulp. However, he accepted his defeat wholeheartedly.

The match ended, and the crowd dispersed.

The contestant approached the head of ARES to inquire about the mysterious opponent, but to his surprise, the opponent was extremely tight-lipped and refused to reveal a single word, no matter how much he used his connections or offered money as bribes.

He struggled to get the only thing out of the person in charge: "WEN is a loner and doesn't like to be disturbed."

The person in charge spoke with an accent, and the contestant misunderstood. He thought to himself, "No wonder he's invincible if he names himself WIN." Before leaving, he asked again, "Well then, I'd like to ask him to help me repair my mech. It's not a bother, is it? Name your price, money is no problem."

The person in charge finally agreed with a smile.

On the other side, in the lounge.

ARES, an previously unknown underground arena, has only gradually gained fame in the past year. They have already bought a new venue, but haven't moved out yet, and the lounge is still cramped and narrow.

The space, less than 30 square meters, contained a metal bunk bed, a small wardrobe, and a bathroom simply separated by a shower curtain. There wasn't much room left, not to mention the floor was piled high with parts and tools of all sizes.

The person in charge knocked and came in, almost unable to find a place to step. However, the person who opened the door clearly did not intend to invite him inside. He had not yet put down the pliers he was holding and cast a detached glance at him.

He still has the face of a young man, but he is already very tall. He has a pair of captivating eyes, but because he rarely shows any extra emotions, he appears very imposing.

"what's up?"

The person in charge snapped out of his heartbreak at having to let such a cash cow live in a place like this, and relayed the contestant's words to him, adding at the end: "I'm sorry to have troubled you to stay here for a while, WEN. I've already sent people to make arrangements for Mangxing. We'll move the base there in a week, and then we'll arrange the biggest and most luxurious room for you."

"Hmm." The response remained indifferent.

He shut down both questions with a single word, and the aloof and unapproachable contestant closed the door again.

The person in charge was already used to it, shook his head helplessly, and left.

The door closed, the curtains were drawn, and all was quiet.

One hand pressed the remote control on the wall, and the old-fashioned television on the wardrobe began to broadcast interstellar news.

"...The damaged statues within the Temple of the Eternal Nova have not yet been fully repaired..."

The shower curtain was drawn, and the sound of water washing over the scarred body filled the air.

Most of the scars were old, while some were very new, grotesquely etched on the back and abdomen, with several even on the throat and chest, one of which pierced through the heart. The murder weapon lay amidst the mess outside.

Even so, he is still alive.

The person beneath the flowing water had their eyes lowered, and intermittent voices came from outside.

"To this end, the new head of the Thuringian family contributed precious soil that his family had treasured for hundreds of years to fill the missing heart part of the statue..."

He turned off the shower, and water droplets slid down his chin, landing on the pendant around his neck. It was a ring-shaped pendant, which should have been silver, but now it was so dim that it seemed unable to emit even a glimmer of light.

He looked away, picked up a towel and hastily dried himself, then put on his clothes and went outside.

"...However, the cause of the damage to the statue is still under investigation, and it is believed that it will be resolved soon..."

Click, the remote control was pressed, and the announcer's voice stopped abruptly.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he casually reassembled the guns on the table. A mirror hung on the opposite wall, reflecting a still somewhat immature but extremely calm face. Their dark eyes met, and he felt no emotion as he pulled the trigger.

The bullet pierced the flesh with a faint sound, and blood flowed from the wound, only to begin to congeal within seconds.

He put down his gun, as if he knew the scene inside and out, took out tools from the cabinet, and skillfully removed the bullets from himself.

It was all in vain.

No matter what method is used, all that can be obtained is temporary pain. It's as if he has been deprived of the right to die, experiencing a long slumber, and then waking up unharmed.

He didn't know why he had woken up.

With the same appearance as when he last awoke, he suddenly opened his eyes again in a temple.

The difference is that the person who should have been by his side is nowhere to be seen.

Stepping out of the temple, a strange light source pierced his pupils, and the planet that greeted him was not that blue star either.

At first, he didn't understand his situation. Thinking back to the time he lived with Wen Ying and how his younger siblings would discuss online novels at the dinner table, he guessed that he might have transmigrated.

So, before figuring out if a time machine existed that could take people back to their homeland, he began trying the simplest and quickest methods, but all to no avail.

He cannot die.

The fate that had once imprisoned him has returned to him, as if it were a joke.

After numerous unsuccessful attempts, he could only force himself to integrate into this universe. In reality, this universe was not as empty and desolate as he had imagined. Countless humans also lived here, living together and adapting very well.

But only humans accompanied them; all other creatures seemed to have disappeared.

He struggled to adapt without her.

He can't handle many things well either.