Crossover anime/manga, immediately transmigrated after death

No, on the sidewalk?

This was his last complete thought.

boom!

Sound, sight, consciousness—all were crushed in an instant.

There's nothing left.

When Zhang Yang opened his eyes again, he found himself in a space.

There is no up or down, no left or right, no color.

Is this the legendary afterlife?

Then a piece of information appeared in my mind.

Post-mortem settlement mechanism.

Each death opens a new door.

Each door corresponds to a world.

It is possible to travel through time.

The cooldown period is seven days; you can only travel through the area after seven days.

Upon death, an additional door will automatically open, and a passage will be automatically initiated.

Two somewhat rustic wooden doors stood side by side.

On each door, there was a piece of paper, like a calligraphy copybook, with yellowed pages covered with densely written characters.

He approached the first door, where the calligraphy scroll described the world he had just experienced.

From birth to death, every moment of "exuberance in this world" is written on it. Like an extremely detailed biographical resume.

He reached out and touched it, and a message immediately popped into his mind.

He peeled back the calligraphy scroll, tallied his life story, and discovered his talent.

Talent levels: white, purple, gold, and rainbow.

"So that's how it is. You don't have talent while you're alive, but it's only after you die that your talent is recognized."

He now has two choices.

Settle the life story in various anime and manga worlds, or don't.

If he doesn't settle the score or remove the calligraphy scroll, he can travel back to his original world.

Cooldown period is seven days.

That means going back and facing that truck head-on...

I'm taking a dump truck?

real or fake?

If he goes back and dies in the crossover anime world for some reason, and the cooldown period hasn't passed, then he's really dead.

"Isn't this a dead file?"

Zhang Yang looked up at the two doors.

A door leads to the world he has already lived through; going back means facing the truck that could come crashing down at any moment.

Zhang Yang made a decision and reached out to peel off the scroll on door number one.

The paper, as it left the door, transformed into a beam of white light and flowed towards the body.

[Settlement in progress...]

[World: World One]

Survival time: eight hours

[Important Events: Transferred to Shuchiin University, confirmed worldview, died in a truck accident]

[Overall assessment: An unremarkable life, a disgrace to time travelers]

[Talent generation in progress...]

Then, he felt something solidify in his mind.

[Talent: Inconspicuous]

[Grade: White]

[Effect: Reduced presence. Less likely to be noticed in a crowd.]

Forget it.

White is fine, it's free anyway.

With this thought in mind, Zhang Yang looked at Gate Number Two, where a piece of white paper was pasted, displaying his identity.

Name: Zhang Yang

Place of origin: Ming Dynasty

[Family Background: A wealthy local family, owning a hundred acres of small farmland, several mules and horses, and more than ten servants.]

[Experience: Last year, a plague raged, the entire clan was infected, both parents died, servants fled, and only one person survived.]

[Current situation: He has sold his property, obtaining over three hundred taels of silver. He is carrying a bundle and intends to travel to Yanjing to seek refuge with his aunt.]

Assets: 320 taels of silver, two bags of clothes, and some dry food.

"It's alright, acceptable, but the art style changed a bit too quickly. No, I should say there was no choice."

Zhang Yang immediately pushed open the door.

Chapter Two: She's obsessed with looks, and I just happen to have...

A dry, hot wind hit my face, carrying the smell of sand.

When Zhang Yang opened his eyes, he was almost blinded by the sun.

A huge sun was hanging directly overhead, baking the ground until it was steaming.

The road beneath our feet was a dirt track, and on both sides were barren mountains. Not a single decent tree could be seen. In front of us was an endless expanse of Gobi Desert, with sand swirling and rolling in the wind.

"There's another person there!"

Zhang Yang suddenly turned his head and saw a group of burly men on horseback, carrying knives, attacking an overturned carriage on the earthen slope in front of him.

The coachman lay in a pool of blood.

The carriage was split open, and the goods inside were scattered all over the ground.

Several merchants dressed in cloth knelt on the ground and kept kowtowing.

These bandits numbered about a hundred and moved with great efficiency, unlike bandits at all; they seemed more like border troops.

Although in feudal times, government troops and bandits were not much different, but...

Snapped!

The middle-aged man at the head of the group struck out with his palm, and the entire carriage instantly disintegrated. The tall horse didn't even have time to scream before it was forcibly split in two by his true energy.

Wow, this is a martial arts world!

Zhang Yang turned and ran, using all the running strength he had accumulated in his entire life. Afterwards, he sincerely thanked that the clothes he was wearing were those of a wanderer, rather than some complicated young master's attire.

He only carried some loose silver coins, and the bottom of his body was covered with silver notes.

Of course, it's not the Ming Dynasty's precious paper money.

The mounted bandits were looking around where he had just been standing. One of them reined in his horse, frowned, and said, "Where is he? I saw him just now."

"Are you seeing things?"

"Impossible, I clearly saw a figure."

"Alright, alright, one caravan is enough to keep us busy enough, let's pack up quickly!"

Zhang Yang crouched behind a large rock two hundred meters away. Given the bandits' ability to search with their horses, they could probably find him if they wanted to, but the bandits seemed to completely ignore him.

A nobody.

White Talent.

Their presence has diminished.

"Good heavens..."

Leaning against a rock, Zhang Yang's heart pounded like a drum. Taking advantage of the moment when the bandits were busy moving goods, he crouched down and slipped away down the embankment.

After running for about two miles and making sure there were no pursuers behind him, he dared to straighten up.

"...If it weren't for this white talent, I'm afraid I would have been killed as soon as I stepped out the door."

He wiped the sweat from his face and began to recall what he had just heard.

What did that group of people call themselves again?

Jinsha Gang.

The bald, burly man seemed to be their leader, nicknamed Eagle. Their chants and methods of operation, especially the feel of their movements, were somewhat reminiscent of military formations seen in videos…

Could it be that they were actually bandits who were originally soldiers?

Why couldn't the Ming Empire just honestly pay its taxes to the emperor?

"It's all a conspiracy by the civil service!"

Zhang Yang didn't know who to blame, but he decided to hold the civil service group accountable. After all, they were already scapegoats, so taking another blame wouldn't hurt.

Zhang Yang pondered as he walked.

The world's art style, Ming Dynasty setting, silver currency, and desert bandits—a standard traditional martial arts beginning.

I just don't know if they have martial arts skills, like internal energy cultivation or lightness skills...

Just then, a desert appeared ahead.

The yellow sand stretches as far as the eye can see.

He looked back at the dirt road behind him, then at the desert ahead.

and many more.

He just came from over there?

Three hours later, Zhang Yang had to admit: "I'm lost..."

However, it's not a big problem. He's a high school student. You know, the time when a person accumulates the most knowledge in their life is during high school. He'll definitely be able to find a way to leave the desert with his modern knowledge!

Three days later, the provisions and water for the luggage were almost gone.

"I'm doomed. I was only a high school student for one day, and I was already past my prime before I transmigrated..."

Zhang Yang sat on a weathered rock, looking at his chapped lips, and pondered a very serious question with a blank expression.

Which is more dignified: dying of thirst in the desert or being hacked to death by bandits in a martial arts world?

The answer is, neither is respectable.

"At least give me an oasis..."

No one answered him, and just when Zhang Yang thought he was really going to die here—

A sound came from afar.

rustle……

The light footsteps sounded like someone walking on the sand.

Zhang Yang barely managed to lift his head.

In the sandstorm, a figure could be vaguely seen.

Her long brown hair was tied into pigtails, with a striking blue inner side of the braids, and tied with an apricot-yellow ribbon.

She wore a deep purple shawl over her shoulders, and an apricot-yellow coat wrapped around her neck and waist, which was cinched at the waist with a black leather belt.

She wore black tight shorts and matching black boots.